Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
http://books.google.com/books?id=xK8BAAAAQAAJ&dq
(Oxford University)
2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].

THE

OLD DOMINION.

By

G. P. R. JAMES

LONDON.
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS LIMITED.
MDCCCCIII.

The Introduction is written by Laurie Magnus, M.A.; the Title-page is designed by Ivor I. J. Symes.

The Old Dominion

or

A Tale of Virginia

CONTENTS

[INTRODUCTION.]

George Payne Rainsford James, Historiographer Royal to King William IV., was born in London in the first year of the nineteenth century, and died at Venice in 1860. His comparatively short life was exceptionally full and active. He was historian, politician and traveller, the reputed author of upwards of a hundred novels, the compiler and editor of nearly half as many volumes of letters, memoirs, and biographies, a poet and a pamphleteer, and, during the last ten years of his life, British Consul successively in Massachusetts, Norfolk (Virginia), and Venice. He was on terms of friendship with most of the eminent men of his day. Scott, on whose style he founded his own, encouraged him to persevere in his career as a novelist; Washington Irving admired him, and Walter Savage Landor composed an epitaph to his memory. He achieved the distinction of being twice burlesqued by Thackeray, and two columns are devoted to an account of him in the new "Dictionary of National Biography." Each generation follows its own gods, and G. P. R. James was, perhaps, too prolific an author to maintain the popularity which made him "in some ways the most successful novelist of his time." But his work bears selection and revival. It possesses the qualities of seriousness and interest; his best historical novels are faithful in setting and free in movement. His narrative is clear, his history conscientious, and his plots are well-conceived. English learning and literature are enriched by the work of this writer, who made vivid every epoch in the world's history by the charm of his romance.

Picking up a novel by the historical novelist G. P. R. James, with Virginia as subject and "The Old Dominion" for title, one inevitably expects a romance about Elizabethan adventures and noble savages, something after the manner of Fenimore Cooper, with an air of greater antiquity. What, then, is our surprise to find that the veteran romancer has given us a novel of recent history, with facetious sketches of Yankee oddities, a plot based on a legal imbroglio, and a painstaking study of that perennial problem, the negro question. "The Old Dominion" is, in fact, James's "American Notes" and "Martin Chuzzlewit," though the portraiture is altogether kindly, and the satire of the mildest kind. He has observed the life and manners of the country where he resided as British Consul with the same minute care as that which he lavishes on his historical studies. Without Dickens's virulent and entertaining comedy, the picture of life in Virginia in the thirties is probably far truer because of this scrupulous accuracy, and because of the moderation and patient endeavour to decide justly upon disputed points. Years before "Uncle Tom's Cabin," James gave the English public this thoughtful picture of slavery. He is not one-sided. He rather discloses at once the evils of slavery and the difficulties of emancipation in a purely imaginative way without pleading strongly for a remedy. He shows powerfully what a terrible retribution has been brought upon the land by those who introduced slavery. The negro's insane ferocity when freed from control, and the peril of a small white population at the mercy of a host of revolted slaves, are brought out in the history of the negro insurrection, which is traced from its origin in the preaching of McGrubber and the misguided brooding of Nat Turner, down to its repression. The hero and heroine and the love romance, with its profusion of obstacles to happiness, are the familiar ones, with a modern instead of a medi[ae]val environment. But the vivacity of the style is quite unusual. Mr. Byles is epigrammatic with his three distinctions between the North and the South. "In the South they fight duels whenever they can, have slaves for their servants, and grow tobacco and corn. In New England they never fight if they can help it, are slaves to their own servants, and make wooden clocks and wooden nutmegs." And our serious romancer even ventures on a broad joke quite frequently.

THE OLD DOMINION.

[CHAPTER I.]

I wrote to you, my dear sister, from the pretty little town of Baltimore; and I hope you have received my letter. Although this so speedily follows it, my only motives for writing are, to occupy idle time, and to relieve your mind from apprehension regarding my safety during my passage through all the terrors of Chesapeake Bay: "that long and dreadful inlet," as you call it, "in which uncle Richard was shipwrecked twenty or thirty years ago." Believe me, all these dangers are imaginary. This Chesapeake Bay is a very calm, pleasant sheet of water, which may have its storms sometimes; but, sheltered from the full force of the ocean by what is called the eastern shore, has no terrors after passing the Atlantic. I have not even a single adventure to tell. Everything passed with provoking tranquillity; and I must needs eke out my letter by any little observations, borrowed from my journal, which I fancy may amuse you. I think I told you that I had engaged a passage to Norfolk in the schooner Mary Anne. I believe half the ships in the world are called "Mary Anne;" and, doubtless, it is a very safe sort of name. There is nothing to be said against it; and, indeed, my skipper assured me that he had never known a vessel of that name to be lost. However, if odours produce sympathies, the Mary Anne would soon find her way down amongst the fishes; for a more potent smell of herring never assailed my nose than when I entered the said vessel. I had not been on board previous to the hour of sailing, having taken my passage through our agent; and, certainly, I was somewhat disappointed at the accommodation presented, which had been previously depicted in very glowing colours, but proved somewhat cramped, and in no degree savoury. Always take a steam-boat when you can, my dear sister--for a short life and a merry one, is a good axiom at sea; and although steamers may rattle, and smoke, and shake, they generally carry you to your destination sooner, more pleasantly, and more safely too, than a sailing vessel. Well--we started from our wharf about half-past two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon; and I remained upon deck to take a last look at Baltimore, which I quitted with some regret. It is a smaller city than New York, but cleaner, neater, and, I should think, more healthy. Besides, I had met some very pleasant and kind people there; and civilities which would not affect one much in one's own country, touch one in a foreign land. When ties and old affections are left behind, courtesies and civilities are the best substitutes. The wind was quite favourable, the master assured me; and there was just enough of it to ripple the water, and make the ship go quietly on, without producing any rebellion of stomach or refractoriness of legs. I remained upon deck till it was quite dark, and more than one little star looked out with eager, twinkling eyes, as if it feared it should not have time enough to behold its own image in the waters before the sun rose and sent it to bed again. I then went below, and found the little cabin, round which our berths were placed, already tenanted by two gentlemen, who had never appeared upon the deck since I first reached it, and who were consuming time and brandy and water very nearly in silence. Whether they had been thus employed for the preceding six or seven hours, I know not; and how much of the spirit they had drunk it was impossible to discover, for they certainly were not tipsy, and the brandy itself was entombed in a vast bottle, called here a demijohn, so curiously concealed in wickerwork, that it is impossible for the keenest eyes to discover whether it is full or empty. Both were well dressed men, but very different in appearance from each other. I must venture upon some description, my dear sister, as our ideas of the Yankee race in England are very unlike the realities which we see before us in this country. I remember hearing a wealthy, respectable, foolish, ignorant woman, of a class such as frequently forces its way into society with us at home, deliberately ask an American, whom she knew to be such, whether all the natives of America were salmon-coloured. She had, doubtless, heard of red Indians; and, I suppose, with that brilliant confusion of ideas which trouble the brains of some ladies, had confounded our brethren on this side of the Atlantic, with the aborigines of the country. However, my two companions on the present occasion, though one was not of American or Anglo-Saxon race, had nothing of the Indian about them. One was a thin, spare, but well-formed man, about three and thirty years of age, who, from dress or appearance altogether, no one would have distinguished from an Englishman, had it not been for a certain jaunty, well satisfied, self-reliant air not altogether consistent with our staid and more sober character of thought. His face was by no means handsome, God knows. His eyes were somewhat protuberant, round, and sparkling; his nose was short, thickish, and a little tinged with red, which might have some affinity with the contents of the demijohn I have just mentioned. His upper lip was shaded by a thick, Austrian-cut moustache; his chin was prominent and decided; but his forehead was bold, high, and towering, and by far the finest feature of his face. The other seemed rather overdressed--certainly over dressed for a sea-voyage; but his face was actually much handsomer than that of his companion, and presented the peculiar character which marks, in almost every instance, Jewish descent; for he had large, almond shaped, dark eyes, an aquiline nose, a delicate mouth and chin, and a profusion of glossy black hair, floating in small, light curls about his head. His complexion was warm, but delicate; and, altogether, he was a very handsome man. But he wanted that air of Oriental calmness and dignity which you and I have often remarked in many members of his race. This I attribute greatly to the profession which I afterwards found he followed; the debasing tendencies of which I can conceive no man's spirit resisting. He had three diamond rings on one finger, and a large brilliant in the frill of his shirt; and, indeed, it seemed to me there was no part of his person on which he could stick such an ornament, that was not garnished by some precious stone. It was quite clear that no great cordiality existed between these two tenants of the cabin, although they were drinking out of the same demijohn, if not out of the same cup. As soon as I entered, the last-mentioned passenger asked me, in Virginian parlance, "to take a drink." I have learnt the habits of the country sufficiently to know that it is discourteous to refuse; and I was immediately provided with a tumbler and cold water, to which I added some of the brandy. When I had sipped a small quantity of the mixture, the first passenger I have mentioned broke out in a short, quick, merry laugh, and observed, in a quaint tone, that the skipper had failed to provide us with mint--a usual accessory to brandy and water in this country. With him I soon got into conversation, and found him a well read, liberally educated man of the world, with very free notions upon a great number of subjects, a taste for the arts, and a tolerable store of Greek and Latin. The other was more difficult to engage, and indeed the task seemed hopeless for some time; till, at length, the master of the vessel joined us, and then I found out that our friend with the diamond rings had points upon which he was accessible also. After helping himself pretty liberally to the brandy and water, the captain looked with a shrewd, good-humoured smile in the face of the over-dressed gentleman, saying--

"Well, Mr. Lewis, do you hope to do a good business this summer?"

"I don't know, captain," answered the other. "I want you to tell me a little bit of what's going on." Then, dropping his voice, he said in a sort of whisper which prevented my hearing the close of the sentence, "I hear they are going to sell up Mr.----"

"So they say," replied the captain, rather gravely, and with a sort of sigh. "I am very sorry for him, poor fellow. He was quite a gentleman; only too fond of those cursed cards. However, he has got a pretty stock in hand, and I guess they'll go high."

"Do you know what they are?" asked the other.

"I don't know them all," replied the master; "but there's some fifty of them; and five or six of them--Bill especially, and Anthony, are as good hands as ever worked in these parts."

"Well the market is not very high in Orleens," replied Mr. Lewis; "it's quite glutted, I hear; and fifty are hardly worth buying. Are there no more to be had about?"

"Why I hear Mr. Thornton wants to sell, up in Southampton county, not far from Jerusalem," was the captain's answer. "I can't tell what he's been about. He neither drinks nor gambles, nor fights cocks, nor anything; and yet he has contrived to muddle away all his money, and his plantation is mortgaged as high as it will go." The other paused upon this, and seemed to consider it with much satisfaction. In the meantime I had arrived at the conclusion that good Mr. Lewis was neither more nor less than a slave-dealer; and, taking but little interest in the subjects discussed, I walked up the companion-ladder to the deck again, to spend an hour or so beneath the stars, before I went to bed. The cabin was oppressively warm; the night sultry beyond description; and I felt sure that I could not sleep without inhaling some fresh air before I lay down. I was inclined to meditate upon many things with which it is no use troubling you, my dear sister, as they arose out of the conversation I had just heard, which deserved more calm consideration than I have yet had time to give them. I had hardly reached the deck, however, when I was joined by the first-mentioned of my fellow travellers, who, fixing at once, as usual, upon the most obvious topic, observed that it was a beautiful night. I agreed with him simply, and he then went on to say--

"It is much pleasanter up here than down below. The cabin is very hot, and that brute of a slave-dealer makes it still hotter."

"I have heard," I replied, "that you Virginian gentlemen hold these slave-dealers in great horror and contempt."

"First, let me tell you I am not a Virginian," responded he; "but I can answer as well as if I were. The slave-dealer is looked upon here, and all through the South, as a necessary nuisance. He is tolerated, and that is all; but there are very few cases in which that toleration is carried so far as to sit in the same room with him. At an ordinary, on board a ship, or in a stage coach, men are obliged to do it; and sometimes--for 'misery makes us acquainted with strange bed-fellows'--when a gentleman owes one of them a good round sum of money which he can't pay, he will not only put his legs under the mahogany with him, but drink with him across the table. Hic et ubique--it is the same thing. I have seen men drink with a money-lender in your country--which I presume is England--and I am quite certain that if a rattlesnake had a side pocket, and we could get in debt to him, and we should pull off our hats and be as civil to the reptile as possible." He ended with one of his sharp, short laughs; and, taking a cigar case out of his pocket, offered me a very delicious Havanah. The conversation went on much in the same style for some time; and at length the captain came up and joined us, telling us that Mr. Lewis had turned in.

"Well, that's satisfactory," replied my fellow passenger; "for though one must sometimes be in close companionship with a snake, one does not always like to hear him hissing. As soon as I am sure he's asleep, I'll go down and turn in too." By this time we had got so far into the bay that those beautiful sea anemonies, as they are called, or medus[ae], were flashing past the ship in every direction, looking like the lamps which the Hindoo women are said to send floating on the Ganges. I made some observation upon them to my companion, and he replied somewhat in the words of Sir Henry Wotton:

"As if the heaven let fall
Its lesser stars upon the earth."

"But I think the wind is going to change, captain," resumed he. "Don't you see that haze over there?"

"I shouldn't wonder, Mr. Wheatley," answered the master of the vessel; "and if it does, it will blow pretty stiff." These hints determined me to go down once more to the cabin, and take possession of my berth, although the scene from the deck was very beautiful: the stars shining, still, bright, and clear above; the faint outline of the Virginian coast upon our right; the waters of the bay heaving gently under us, gemmed with phosphorescent light, and innumerable white sails gliding along in the same direction with ourselves, some near and some far off, but all, like the beautiful phantoms that pass by us on the wide sea of human life, deriving much of their charm from imagination and indistinctness. But the horror of sea-sickness--that most unimaginative and unpoetical of all maladies--made me anxious to get to sleep before it fixed its fangs upon me. Accordingly, I was soon in the little den allotted to me, which was certainly less comfortable, and not much more spacious, than a coffin. Some fatigue, however, and the late hour to which I had sat up at Mr. E----'s, on the preceding night, brought slumber to my eyes before the wind changed or the gale began to blow. I suspect we were tossed pretty well during the night; but nothing awoke me till day had long dawned. By this time the sea was tolerably calm again, but the breeze not quite so favourable as it had been before; and it was not till yesterday afternoon that we rounded Cape Charles, and entered what is called Hampton Roads. Thenceforward the wind was very fair, and we had no difficulty in making our way to this place. I cannot say that the scenery we passed was very beautiful; yet I do not think I was ever more charmed or struck by anything affecting merely the sight, than I was with the glorious sunset of that evening, as we sailed up the Elizabeth River. In the morning, some clouds had been in the sky; about midday they had thickened and grown darker; and the weatherwise predicted a storm. But, just as those who pretend to the most philosophical knowledge of human nature are generally the most ignorant of men, so the weatherwise, I have remarked, are the most ignorant of the weather. Before three o'clock every cloud had vanished; floating vapour might be here and there, but it was so thin that the eye could not even discern its shadow on the blue, and it was not till the sun nearly touched the horizon that a thin, golden line, brighter than the rest, showed that there was something to catch and reflect the rays. On the right hand and the left, were piney points, with deep bays and indentations between, but with hardly a house visible; though now and then some blue smoke curled up from amongst the trees, near narrow creeks or little rivers opening their mouths into the wider stream, on which hardly a sail was seen to float, and where merely a canoe with a black man quietly dangling his line over the side, gave human vitality to the aspect of the waters. Beyond, towered up dense and lofty forests, massed in the shades of evening, with a sort of light haze resting upon them, and thus leaving a sort of mysterious flatness over the surface. You could see that they were green, yet the tint was curiously indefinite, approaching black in some places, and showing brighter colours in others; but beyond all, to the west, rose up the most gorgeous sky I ever beheld, of a burning fiery yellow towards the horizon, a broad orange glow above, and thence passing gradually into pink and purple, as the rays of the setting sun reached his zenith. To us, indeed, the sun was already set; for he was hidden by the trees and the gentle slopes of the land to the westward; but that he was not yet below the verge of earth, could be plainly perceived; for every here and there along the shores, where a deep creek or cove wandered up into the woods, his rays could be seen, as it were a path of light, reflected from the surface of the waters. At the mouth of two of these creeks, standing long-legged in the midst of the blaze, I perceived a party of storks or cranes, finding their evening meal on some shoal of the river. But the absence of all traces of civilized man; the glorious sunset; the dim woods; the calm, dull, unexpectant attitude of the storks; the width of the river; the sea-like motion of the waves; the solitary negro fishing from his canoe--all gave a strange, solemn, sublime aspect to the scene, and I could not help figuring to myself that such must have been the appearance of the country as it presented itself to the eyes of the first settlers here, who were amongst the earliest of those who visited the North American continent, when first their venturous barques approached these shores. What bold and hardy fellows they must have been! How unimpressible and resolute! I declare the sight of that sunset made me feel a kind of awe; and I do believe that, had I been amongst them, the solitude and the grandeur would have had a sort of sacredness in it to my mind, which would have induced me to turn the prow homeward, and leave the holiness of nature unprofaned. They were not such tempers, however; and some of the results of their persevering and dauntless spirit of adventure were soon visible in the houses and wharves of Norfolk, looking black and ragged upon the sky, with masts, and sails, and columns of smoke, and boats flitting across and across the river, and the steamboat which I had disdained, lying puffing out her hot breath, and singing no very melodious song. I must say that the external view of the city is much more pleasant than the internal. From the water, on whose bosom it seems to rest, the very ruggedness and irregularity of the outline--especially in the magnifying atmosphere of twilight--give it a picturesqueness, and even a grandeur, which the interior wofully belies. The streets are narrow, irregular, ill kept, and full of the most unpleasant odours. At every crossing you stumble over a dead dog or cat. The air, too, is redolent of stale and salted fish and tobacco; and the part of the town nearest to the river seems a happy compound of Wapping and Billingsgate, while the ear is regaled with violent peels of Negro laughter, mingled occasionally with all the riches of the Irish brogue.

"Negro laughter!" you may exclaim. Yes, my dear sister! Whatever you may think, these poor, unhappy people, as we are taught to believe them, laugh all day long with such merry and joyous peals, that it is impossible to believe that the iron of which we are told, is pressing very deeply into their souls. At all events, I am quite sure it does not affect their diaphragms. I think I shall establish it as a good comparison to say, "as merry as a negro slave." Even in their solitary moments, too, there seems to be no brooding discontent about them. They are talking continually to themselves, and their soliloquies seem full of fun--at least, if we may believe the merry laughs excited by what they themselves are saying. This morning, I followed down to the very extreme end of the town an old negro, who, though he was somewhat lame in one leg, seemed very agile and vigorous. There was something about the man that caught my fancy; for though he was very plainly dressed, in a sort of frieze jacket and a pair of blue linen trousers, he was very clean: his white wool looked respectable, and his black skin shone like ebony. His occupation, at the time, was the humble one of carrying a large dead pig upon his back. These people are a curious study to me, having seen so little of them, and having received but a one-sided view of their character and of their treatment. So I watched him along the way, keeping a little behind, and on one side of him. Some distance down the street, at a house with a little garden before it, a huge monkey, with a face horridly human, was sitting, chained to a tree, eating what seemed to me a potato. The negro stopped, with the pig still upon his back, and gazed thoughtfully at the monkey for a moment or two. The brute grinned and chattered at the man, and held up his doubled fist in rather a pugilistic attitude. The negro grinned, and said aloud--"Ah, massa Jacko, you damn like old folks!" And on he marched upon his way. I must explain to you that "old folks," in negro parlance, means, generally, the mother and father of the speaker. At the further part of the town, where a rough paling encircled a piece of ground intended to be built upon, my black friend stopped, and deliberately unshouldered his pig, setting him up on his hind feet against the boards. But he could not be without his joke, even at his mute companion. Indeed, this race seems to have a poetical way of animating everything. "Ah, massa piggy." he said, "I carried you long way; you look mighty stiff. I damn tired too. So we both rest ourselves." As we were now at the outskirts of the town, and as I was afraid of losing myself if I went further, I turned back to my inn, which is tolerably comfortable, although a poor looking place enough. It is called the Exchange Hotel; and there you had better write to me, as when I go onward, I shall request my very civil landlady to forward all letters to me by the speediest conveyance. You may ask why I do not go onward at once, and get through my business in the interior without delay; but the fact is I am waiting for letters from Mr. Griffith of New York, who, having seen me in England, can identify me here. He only can prove that I am the veritable Simon Pure, and make clear my title to the property which our good aunt has left me. I expected these letters in Baltimore; but, in regard to some of the institutions, I wanted to see and examine, especially that of slavery, Baltimore is neither fish, flesh, nor red herring. It is in a slaveholding State; but so close to the free States, that slavery there is little more than a name. It presented itself to my mind there in no other way than to make me wonder that the gentlemen and ladies of such a nice town were so fond of black servants, which you know is not generally the case in England. I therefore came on to Virginia, where the slave system is in full force, and directed the letters to follow me. As soon as they arrive, I shall proceed into Southampton County; and if it be possible to remain incog. in this most inquisitive of all countries, I shall quietly inspect Aunt Bab's lands and tenements, and make every necessary inquiry before I disclose who I am. What I shall do with the property, I do not know. It is not necessary to me. I have enough without; and may perhaps abandon it altogether. I hear you exclaim, my dear Kate, "You will of course emancipate the slaves!" And you will be horrified when I reply, "I do not know." But be assured I will do what, on mature reflection and personal observation, I judge to be the best for them. No motive of sordid interest will have any effect upon me, or could ever induce me to keep my fellow man in bondage. But I confess my preconceived opinions have been very much shaken by what I myself have seen, even during my short stay here, and by the comparisons which my mind has unconsciously instituted between the condition of the negro in the free states and in the slave-holding communities. In the former, he is decidedly a sad, gloomy, ay, an ill-treated man, subject to more of the painful restrictions of caste than I could have conceived possible. Here, he appears to be a cheerful, light-hearted, guileless, childlike creature, treated with perfect familiarity, and as far as I have seen, with kindness. Whether this be a reality or merely a semblance, I shall know hereafter; but, depend upon it, I will not act till I do know. I must close my letter, for my fellow passenger, Mr. Wheatley, has just come to call upon me, and I have surely written enough for one day. Write soon if you would have your letter reach me, as there is nothing more uncertain than the length or shortness of the stay of

Your affectionate Brother.

P.S.--This Mr. Wheatley, who has just left me, is certainly a very amusing man. I cannot tell much about his principles; and he seems to vent his scoffs and jests at everything. But he has a good deal of originality of thought, no bad conceit of himself, and some very strong and fixed opinions, springing rather, I suspect, from the suggestions of his own mind than from anything which has been instilled into him by others. He always seems to set out from the beginning of things; and then flies along his chain of deductions like an electric current, skipping a few links here and there, I doubt not, and getting on to another chain which leads him far away. But with men whom I may never meet again, I have got into a way of amusing myself with their characters, rather than combating their arguments. I was never born for an apostle; and I do not think, if I had the power of depriving men of their opinions or even of their prejudices, I should do much good to myself, or them, or society. Indeed, I have come to the conclusion, that the great bulk of men's prejudices is part of their property, which we have no right to take from them. We may tax them to a certain extent for the benefit of society, but we must prove that benefit before we make it our plea; and the rest we have no right to meddle with at all. The self-conceited desire to do so, is the origin of all fanaticism and of the host of evils to which it gives rise.

P.S. No. 2.--Eleven o'clock Friday night.--I have just made a funny sort of acquaintance with my friend the negro pig-carrier. In going out about two hours ago, I heard a loud dispute at the foot of the stairs, and found another fellow as black as himself abusing no other person than Mr. Zedekiah Jones; for such is his euphonious name. I did not stop to listen; but one vituperative epithet was applied to him by his opponent, which I never should have expected to hear addressed by one negro to another. "You're a damn'd black free nigger!" cried the little scrubby fellow who was contending with him.

"You're black as I am," retorted Zedekiah, "and nigger too. I could'nt help being free. Ole massa 'mancipate me whether I like or no." The accusation and excuse were strangely characteristic; and a few minutes ago old Zedekiah came up to my room to ask if I had any boots or shoes to clean. It seems he is a sort of supernumerary shoeblack, or porter of the house. I shall get something of his history from him to-morrow, for he appears to be a good kind of merry creature; but, it being late to-night, I satisfied myself with obtaining his name. No letter has come yet, so I shall have to stay here another day.

[CHAPTER II.]

Another letter, my dear sister, and still from Norfolk. It was useless to set out without the expected epistles to identify me, in case of need; and they only arrived this morning. Then came the great and important question of how, and by what manner, I was to proceed to my journey's end. It was one which I gave no heed to till this morning--an old habit of mine, by the way; for I fear my mind is somewhat discursive, and rambles about important points, to amuse itself on the outskirts of the question. No stage was to be had to the point which I wished to reach--no steam-boat, because it is far inland--no blessed post-horses, for those much enduring animals are unknown in this country; and there were only two resources: what they call here a buggy--that is to say, a rumbling, generally ill conditioned vehicle, with either one or two half-starved nags, for the hire of which one is charged the most extortionate price--or the old-fashioned mode of locomotion on a horse's back. I determined upon the latter resource; but upon going to a livery stable in the neighbourhood of the inn, I saw a collection of animals so miserable and forlorn, that I doubted much whether any one of them would reach the end of the journey without falling to pieces. Moreover, my good friend, the proprietor, made considerable difficulty as to hiring them out for so long a journey, and gave me clearly to understand that he should consider he was doing me a great favour if he acceded at all. Not wishing to lay myself under an obligation to this very independent gentleman, I walked away, determined to fall back upon the buggy, and to get my new friend Mr. Wheatley, to undertake the negotiation for me; for I somewhat feared that my temper, though I believe a tolerably good one, might break down under similar discussions. On going back to the inn, in order to send him a note, and finding my worthy acquaintance, Zedekiah Jones, standing at the door, I inquired of him, casually, if there were no other place than the one to which I had been directed where I could hire a horse. He grinned, and shook his head; but remarked, that I could buy plenty of very good horses if I wanted one to purchase. He knew of two, he said, which had come into town two days before, fresh and well-conditioned, and a capital match.

"But I only want one, my good friend," I replied.

"What horse carry your baggage, den, massa?" asked the man, with his usual grin. This was a new view of the case, which I had not thought of.

"But if I buy, or hire, two horses," I said, "who is to ride the other, Master Zedekiah?"

"Old Zed ride t'other," answered the negro, chuckling as if he were going into convulsions; "best groom you ever have. All my life with horses till I break my leg, when that damn horse came down with me at Richmond races. My gorry! I'd be glad to get upon a horse's back again. Old Zed ride t'other, massa, and take care of both--and you too." And he exploded again right joyfully. To shorten my story, there was something so amusing in the man's merriment, and so straightforward and good-humoured in his way, that if I had ever had any starch or stiffness in my nature, it would have been all relaxed and melted out. Putting aside all question of oddity, or absurdity, I said to myself--

"I will buy the horses, and I'll hire old Zed, if the landlady is willing to part with him. Sterne hired La Fleur much after the same fashion, and for the same qualities. We'll march off together seeking adventures. I'll be Don Quixote, and he shall be Sancho Panza. Not a windmill have I seen in the country as yet; but, doubtless, we shall find something that will do quite as well." The whole business was soon settled. The landlady was charitably glad that old Zed had got a good place, for she said she employed the poor creature more from charity than anything else; and, after ordering him a decent suit of apparel, and buying two pairs of capacious saddle bags, we proceeded to the stable where the horses were to be seen. They were very handsome beasts, and seemed sound wind and limb; and though the price was very high, I concluded the bargain for them rapidly, which I imagine produced greater respect for my purse than for my person; and thus, my dear girl, I shall set out to-morrow, mounted and squired, though I have not yet got my lance or shield, nor the helmet of Mambrino. On my return to the inn, I found Mr. Wheatley waiting for me, and told him what I had done.

"Bravo!" he said; "true Virginian style. But have you got a large pair of plated spurs? otherwise you won't pass current. Never mind; I'll supply you. I bought half a dozen pair when I first came to this state, and they have served as my introduction to the best society ever since. But let me give you a hint or two before you go. There are a thousand chances to one that you may miss your way, unless your friend Zed has a very general knowledge of the country. Do not, however, let that trouble you. Wherever you see a house, and it is convenient to stop, pull down the fence, and ride straight at it. You will find a hearty welcome. The Virginians are the most hospitable people upon earth, and their houses have the faculty of stretching to an inconceivable extent. As for food, you will always find, if nothing else, good ham, fried chickens, eggs, and butter; often a capital bottle of wine; and though, in the towns, men may think they are conferring a favour upon you by selling you the merest trifle in which it is their business to deal, at an exorbitant price--in the country they will think you are conferring a favour by taking whatever they have to give for nothing. The fact is, this exaggerated tone of indifference and independence in the store-keepers is only assumed as a balm to their vanity, a little wounded at having to sell anything. Every man of them fancies himself to be a member of the first families in Virginia, and would fain have his horses and hounds, and his score or two of negroes. Not having them, he is anxious to make himself believe, and to persuade others, that he only buys and sells for his own amusement, and does not care ninepence whether people take his wares or not." I believe there is a great deal of truth in this view of the subject. Whether Mr. Wheatley has given me as correct a picture of the Virginian country gentlemen or not, remains to be proved; at all events his advice, in many respects, may be valuable, and he has added to it three or four letters which I think may be found of service.

"The squire, the parson, the lawyer, and the inn-keeper," he said, "are great people in their way. I know them all in the direction in which you tell me you are bending your steps."

"But, perhaps," said I---- Before I could conclude, he interrupted me with his peculiar, short, quick laugh--always broken off suddenly, as if it were cut through in the middle, saying--

"I understand; you may not wish to have any trumpets blown before you. You may like to go quietly about whatever business you have to do. I saw that your carpet bag had no name on it, and therefore, of course, I asked the captain who you were, whence you came, whither you were going, and everything about you, in the true Yankee spirit. My dear sir, there is no such thing as secresy in this country. Every man knows everybody else's business much better than his own. It is a great deal worse in the East, that is true; and I have known one of my fellow-countrymen pursue a silent and reserved traveller through two long days' journey--quite out of his way too--simply because he knew he should never have a moment's peace for the rest of his life if he did not find out all about him. At last, the unfortunate traveller was obliged to open out and tell him the whole story--true or false I do not know--merely to be quit of him. However, I will write the letters for you, and you can deliver them or not, as you like; but mind, I tell you fairly, you can't conceal yourself. In this part of the country, the negroes do all the work in the way of inquisitiveness, which we Yankees do with our own tongues. There is nothing ever hidden from a negro; and the moment he or she knows it, every person of the same colour knows it throughout the whole town, and from them it gets to the masters and mistresses. If ever a young gentleman kisses a young lady behind the door, you may be quite sure there is a black eye looking through a chink; and then it is, 'Lors a marcy, Miss Jemima! what do you tink? Massa John kiss Miss Jane behind de door.' Then Miss Jemima runs to Aunty Sal, and exclaims, 'Lors a marcy!' too, and Aunty Sal tells it to Mammy Kate, and Mammy Kate tells it to her dearly-beloved nursling, Miss Betty, who sends it round through all the kith and kin of the parties concerned. Do you see that black man walking along, who has just been talking to your friend Zed? He knows all about you at this present moment.

"Yes, I see him," answered I, "the man carrying the sucking pig, you mean?"

"Pardon me; that is not a sucking pig," answered Mr. Wheatley; "that is helotice, a possum--anglice, an opossum; no bad dish let me tell you, and one of which the negroes are very fond. But this is not the season for them. After the persimons are ripe, they get exceedingly fat and tender."

"And what are persimons?" I asked.

"A sort of wild fruit," he answered, "in shape somewhat like a plum, and in taste like an apricot, of which the opossum is exceedingly fond. But suffer not yourself to be deceived by the wags up the country; for the Virginians are exceedingly fond of practical jokes. Now the persimon may look perfectly ripe and tempting to the eye; but till it is touched by the frost, soot and vinegar are honey and Falernian to it. Neither, if you have an abhorrence, as I have, of middle-aged pigs, suffer yourself to be tempted to eat an animal they call here a shoat--a name I am convinced they have invented to cover the abomination they are offering you. However, give me pen and ink, and I will write these letters for you. I would give you more good advice, but every one must buy his own experience in some degree, and the best council I can give you, as to all men in a strange country, is, 'keep your eyes open, and do as you see others do.'" I thought this very good advice; for what I might call the technicalities of any society are soon learned, and the pedantries of society are not worth learning. In Russia, every man, from the prince to the peasant, eats with his knife. In England, to do so is almost a social crime; and yet, where in reality is the misdemeanor? Nothing can be really and essentially vulgar that is not disgusting or offensive to others. The best-bred Turk eats with his fingers; but he takes care to wash his hands before he begins and after he has ended. Perhaps he is really more cleanly than the man who eats with a fork when he does not know whether it has been washed or not. However, my friend sat down and wrote the letters for me; and, in the meantime, Master Zed came in already dressed in his new apparel. I had not waited to see his choice of habiliments, but had restricted the shopkeeper--storekeeper, I should have said, God bless the mark! there are no shopkeepers here--to a certain amount; and unquestionably my new man's appearance somewhat startled me. He had got on a plum-coloured frock or tunic coat, with a velvet collar almost red; a pair of Windsor gray--I might almost say light blue pantaloons; a decidedly bright blue cravat; and a shirt-collar so high, so prominent, so extensive in every direction, that I could not but fear that the poor man's round ball of a head would some day disappear in it, white wool and all. He seemed, however, perfectly satisfied with the effect; and I could see him cast sundry glances at a tall looking-glass between the windows, which reflected an image such as is rarely seen upon this globe. True, if he were happy, I had no reason to be discontented; and happy he evidently was, poor man, though I fancy some shirts and stockings had been sacrificed, out of the amount of his equipment, to the splendour of the coat, the cravat, and the pantaloons. Not the least did he presume upon his finery; but, with a most deferential air, inquired what time I should be ready to start on the following morning, humbly suggesting that my horses' fore-feet would be better if shoed and pared, especially at some parts of the road not being of the best, and blacksmiths' shops being few and far between, it would be wise to set out all right, with a nail or two and a hammer in one of the saddlebags. Zed's precautions seemed to be not amiss; and this indication of care and forethought appeared a good augury; so I gave him some money to buy what he wanted, and dismissed him.

"They are good creatures," said Mr. Wheatley, looking up from his letter, "capable of strong affections and strong attachments; but child-like, and requiring constant supervision and care. Now this very man, who has been so thoughtful on a matter in regard to which right notions have been drummed into him by long habit, would make the most egregious, the most absurd, and sometimes the most distressing blunders in regard to things out of his routine. There are two propensities, however, of which the race is rarely ever free--to pilfer and to lie. The pilfering is usually confined to petty articles; and it would really seem as if they reasoned with themselves upon the matter, judging that what they take will please and benefit them more than the loss will pain or injure you. The lie, too, has its bounds and restrictions; it is like the lie of a child, issuing from fear or from the wish of giving pleasure or amusement."

"May not both habits," I said, "be naturally traced to the positions in which they are established? Having no property themselves, not even in themselves, may not their pilfering be a just retribution upon those who are depriving them of all? and may not the lie from fear, or from the purpose of pleasing, be traced to an institution which deprives them of that manly dignity which knows not fear and scorns deception?" Mr. Wheatley's short, quick laugh broke in upon me again. "I think not," he said: "you must see more of them before you can judge. Then perhaps you may be of opinion that the pilfering is a mere proclivity of their vanity or their small appetites. What they take is generally a bright-coloured ribbon, or a bit of lace, or a spoonful out of a pot of sweatmeats, or a glass out of a brandy bottle. You can teach a dog to abstain from taking anything till it is given to him; but you can't teach them, do what you will. There is no race upon the face of the earth who should more frequently repeat the prayer 'Lead us not into temptation;' for there is no race so little capable of withstanding it. Then as to the lying, it is mere childishness. First, they have what your authors call a 'diabetes' of talk. Truth is a great deal too limited for them; they must speak about something. And when the lie proceeds from fear it is nine times out of ten, unreasonable fear: they are afraid of being blamed--of not being thought quick and ready at an answer, and consequently, when any question is asked them, rather than seem ignorant, they fabricate a falsehood. If anything very important were at stake, a thousand to one they would tell the truth. But upon these matters you must satisfy yourself; for of all the rusty, rickety, breakable commodities in this world, second-hand opinions are the worst; and yet nine men out of ten supply themselves at brokers' shops, when they could get them fresh and strong from the manufactory." Thus saving, he set to the letters again; and after they were concluded, gave me a very cordial invitation to his house on my return, and left me, adding, "If you stay long, perhaps we may meet were you are going; for I have some business up there, which should have been attended to a month ago, at the county capital city, which rejoices in the name of Jerusalem, although. Got wot, it is less like Jerusalem than Carthage. Has it never struck you, how magnificently ridiculous the names of our towns are in this country? Mount Ida, about as high as my hand--Rome, descended from its seven hills into the midst of a swamp--Syracuse, a couple of hundred miles from the sea--and Jerusalem in a ham-producing district, with nothing but swine all around it, spite of Moses and all the prophets. In fact, the United States have been like a father with too many children, so hard up for Christian names as to be obliged to give them the most un-Christian names he could get." One more short laugh, and he was gone. And now, my dear sister, to-morrow morning at six, I start upon my journey to the interior; but do not let your timid little imagination conjure up images of danger and difficulty, which, take my word for it, have no foundation but in your fancy. Though of course, as society here is not so regulated as in Great Britain, seeing that a couple of centuries can never do for any country what ten centuries can do, the people are perfectly civilized, I can assure you--quite tame, upon my word. There are no longer any terrible Indians with tomahawks and scalping-knives; nor even ferocious backwoodsmen (at least about this part of the country) whose daily occupation is to gouge, or bore, or shoot down their adversaries. They are, as far as I have seen or heard, a good-humoured, jovial, kind-hearted race, somewhat hot and peppery it is true; but preserving many of those qualities intact which we, in our crowds and thoroughfares, have lost or impaired. In short, they have more character about them: the stamp is not worn off the shilling; but, above all, they are especially hospitable. Doubt not, therefore, that that hospitality will be extended to so engaging and agreeable a young gentleman as your affectionate brother.

[CHAPTER III.]

Richmond, 10th October, 1851.

My Dear Sister,--First let me tell you I am safe and well; which assurance, I trust, will reach you before the news of all that has been taking place here can arrive in England. Some of the scenes I have gone through have been full of danger and horror, and have produced upon my mind, my character, and my fate great and important effects; as, indeed, must always be the case when we are subjected to sudden and unforeseen trials. It is impossible, in the scope of a letter, to give you anything like a clear account of all that has occurred; but whenever I have had an opportunity I have carefully made up my journal, as I promised our friend J----, when I left England, to do for his especial benefit. That journal, of course, contains merely notes and heads; and so many events, and scenes, and conversations remain merely upon memory that I must write it all over again, adding things every here and there which are necessary for a clear comprehension of the whole, which would otherwise in all probability pass away in a few short years. I know you will read them with interest, and so will J----. I shall therefore send the whole story of my last two or three months' adventures to you in detached fragments, and you will forward them to him when you have read them. In the meantime do not put much faith in newspaper accounts; for many of the statements I have seen myself are exaggerated, and many, very many, fall far below the reality. Indeed I do not know that I myself shall be able to bring home to your mind some of the sights that I have witnessed and the scenes through which I have passed; I am sure I could not do so were I to suffer the first impressions to pass away. But, thank God, it is all over; and although several of those whom I highly esteemed have left this world by a tragical and bloody death, those who are dearest to me have escaped almost miraculously. I see you smile, dear sister, at that expression--"those who are dearest to me." Smile away, for I cannot but hope that they will soon be dear to you also. Very likely I shall bring over the last portion of my journal myself, and we may read it together by the old fire-side, with many miles of the dark Atlantic rolling between us and the scenes I have attempted to depict. My faithful Zed will come with me; so have a comfortable room in the hall ready for one to whom I owe my life, and who has suffered many things in the service of your affectionate brother.

The above letter, which, together with the two that preceded it, have been given merely as introductory to the following history, caused a good deal of curiosity and even agitation in the mind of the lady who received it, and in that of the friend who is mentioned under the name of Mr. J----. They were much nearer to each other than the writer imagined when he wrote, and they were never after separated; but each felt a deep interest in the fate of the wanderer over the Atlantic, and looked in the newspapers in vain for the events to which he referred. Englishmen at that time took much less heed of events occurring in the United States of America than they do at present, and English newspapers rarely mentioned matters of merely local interest occurring in any of the several states. At length, however, at the end of about a fortnight or three weeks, came a large package, in the form of a letter; and every arrival of a mail-packet brought one or two more, which were perused with deep feelings by the sister and the sister's husband, and are now given to the public, verbatim et literatim, as they were written.

[CHAPTER IV.]

On the 19th June, 1831,1 set out from the city of Norfolk about seven o'clock in the morning; my departure had been fixed at six: but who ever sets out at the hour at which he has determined? Nobody, certainly, in Virginia, where time and punctuality seem to be, in the opinion of all men, very impracticable abstractions, little worth the attention of reasonable men. First of all, Zed was too late in bringing up the horses, and he had at least a hundred good excuses for the delay. Next, we had forgotten, in buying the saddle-bags, to buy any straps to fix them to the saddles. Then, no stores--or shops, as we call them, were yet open to supply the deficiency. And again, no pack-thread was to be found to supersede the need of straps. Finally, all the gentlemen of the inn with whom I had formed acquaintance, and who happened to be up, must needs shake hands and drink a mint-julep with me before I departed. It seemed the good ancient custom of the stirrup-cup, and I was fain to lump my companions altogether, and take one deep draught to their health ere I rode on. It was a glorious morning; the sun had not yet heated the air, and the wind blew from the north-west. After crossing the river we journeyed very comfortably for between two and three hours. Zed, radiant as Ph[oe]bus, was proud of new clothes, a new master, and a new horse; and to say truth, rode very well, although not very gracefully. Indeed, his broken leg, which had been set somewhat crooked, apparently enabled him to grasp his beast with greater vigour, making a sort of hoop round the animal's body, which would have been very difficult to shake off. We made the best of our way while it was cool; but between nine and ten we began to have indications of what the weather intended to do with us. They may say what they like of Calcutta, Jamaica, and the African coast; but I am sure that Norfolk, in the summer season, is the hottest place upon the surface of the earth. I began to feel the perspiration dropping from under my hat; and the roads seemed full of ruts and irregularities which I had not perceived before. Suddenly, my horse put his feet into a deep gutter, and made an awful stumble, but did not come down.

"Ah, massa," cried Zed, who had been keeping nearly in a line with me, "you hold de middle of de road, or you get into tobacco-ruts."

"Tobacco-ruts!" I exclaimed, "what do you mean by tobacco-ruts? I see no tobacco, Zed." My new groom laughed aloud.

"Don't you know, massa," he cried, "people used to grow tobacco on this road? Take two cart-wheels and an axle, put tobacco between them, or round de axle, wid two coloured gentlemen to roll it on, and push for'ard all de way to Norfolk."

"They don't surely do so now, Zed?"

"Not very long ago," replied he. "I recoleck very well seeing hundreds of tons roll along here. Sometimes dere was a freshet. Den you would see--oh, gorry--a whole heap of wheels and tobacco, and de gentlemen all dancing and playing on de banjo on de bank. Oh, dose was merry times, massa; but dey all become so damn democratic now." I must here remark upon two points of the negro character. First, that they are exceedingly fond of expletives, and not very choice in their selection; and, secondly, that, to a man, as far as I have seen, they are exceedingly conservative, nay, aristocratical in their notions. I will not pause to inquire whether they have any very definite ideas upon the distinction of parties, or whether they attach any significance to the objurgations they use; but certain it is that they have an abhorrence for the name of democrat, and occasionally swear somewhat blasphemously without any special occasion. We were soon obliged to bring our horses to a walk; but we had made good speed over the first twenty miles of our journey. At the end of the next five, we had the happiness of seeing a house on the right-hand side of the road, which promised us rest and shelter from the hot sun till the coolness of evening might be expected. It was a long, low house of two stories--or rather one story and a half, for the second was only half as tall as the first--with a verandah or porch extending all along the front. Beneath the shade of this verandah, in a large arm-chair of plain maple wood, from which he seemed incapable of rising, sat an elderly man with white hair, leaden complexion, and a dull, heavy unprepossessing countenance. In girth he was enormous; and indeed his obesity seemed the effect of disease, for there was an unhealthy heaviness in his whole aspect which was painful to look upon. His dress was negligent; his waistcoat and his shirt were unbuttoned; he had not been shaved for many days; and his hat had fallen, by accident and negligence, into a variety of curious dents and twists, which left no vestige of its original shape. A long tobacco-pipe was in his mouth, from which he continued to inhale puffs of smoke, slowly and leisurely, without paying the slightest apparent attention to anything going on around him. He saw us dismount at the door in the most impassible mood in the world; and as all was still and silent about the house, I should have doubted whether it was a tavern or not, had I not seen a tall bare pole in front, and painted on the frieze of the porch,

Blackwater House. Andrew Gorbel.

By this time I had learned that such symptoms indicated an inn; and while Zed led away the horses, Heaven knows where, I stepped up to the fat smoker, and asked where I could find the landlord.

"I'm the proprietor," answered he. And, without even asking if I wanted anything, continued puffing away at his pipe with the utmost indifference. The fact is, that the people of this country are too thinly scattered for anything like what we call attention and civility. There is no competition amongst them. They feel that other men are more dependent upon them than they upon other men, and they are determined to make those whom they supply with anything feel that it is so. This is a good deal the case in the cities, but ten times more so in remote country places, where the solitary inn has the power of laying every traveller under contribution, or inflicting upon him the penalty of a long and inexpedient ride. I have come to this conclusion from remarking that in spots where commerce is beginning to centre, and two or three taverns have been set up side by side, the landlords, yielding to circumstances, have put on as much civility, if not obsequiousness, as any in the old world. Nothing like competition, my dear friends. It is what bows down most men to the worship of the golden calf, but is very comfortable and convenient for travellers.

"Pray, sir, can I get any dinner here, to-day?"

"I dar say you can." Puff--puff--puff--not a word more.

"What's the dinner hour?"

"One o'clock, if the lads have come back." Puff--puff--puff.

"Can I get anything to drink? I am very thirsty."

"Just in there you'll find the whisky-bottle, on the shelf in the bar. There's water in the pitcher, I think." I was turning away, to satisfy my thirst, when my fat friend hallooed after me--

"Hie! Will you jist hand me that newspaper off the bench." With a smile I could not repress, I did what he required, observing, in somewhat of the country language,--

"You seem somewhat troubled about the limbs, Mr. Gorbel."

"No, not a bit," said he; "my limbs is as strong as ever. It's what's above 'em is the trouble; they have got too much to carry. It's all come on in these cussed last three years, owing to the dry weather and the weevil, I think." I walked away, rather inclined to conclude it was the drought of his own palate, rather than that of the weather, which had brought him into that condition; and, with such an example before my eyes, contented myself with the cold water, without troubling the whisky. About a quarter past one o'clock, till which time I amused myself as best I might, I espied two young men coming up a cross road, or rather lane, through the wood, and another walking leisurely along through a field of Indian corn. On approaching the house, they walked at once into what the old man had called the bar, and rushed at a large tin washbowl. One washed his face and hands, and another did the same. All wiped on the same towel hanging behind the door, and most of them combed their hair with a universal comb which lay on the window-seat. All this was done in profound silence; for in this country, as well as most others, hunger does not tend to loquacity. Before the three first had finished their unfastidious ablutions, another and another had entered, till the bar-room was fuller of human creatures than I had imagined the whole country for twenty miles round could present. As I had come thither, I had seen nothing but forest and swamp, with the exception of a small village here and there, and a scattered house or two near it. A group of negroes, indeed, once or twice was seen looking over a ragged fence; but nothing of white humanity had been visible except in the aforesaid villages. Now, however, there were at least twenty white men about me. In a moment after, a little tinkling hand-bell rang, a door leading out of the bar-room opened, and in rushed the crowd, jostling each other like a pack of hungry hounds, into a large, low dining-hall, where each seized upon a seat, and helped himself to what was before him. It did not seem to matter what it was; to save time was the great object; one man seized upon a dish of cabbage; another snatched some pork and beans; a third thrust his fork into a potato; and a fourth emptied a dish of pickles upon his plate. In the meantime, a black lad of about sixteen, end two mulatto girls, were going round from guest to guest, repeating some mysterious words in a very quick tone, which caused each of the gentlemen to thrust out his plate, loaded as it was, with a single word of reply. When the boy came to me, I discovered that the talismanic words were simply, "roast mutton; corn beef; boiled mutton; roast shoat; roast turkey; chicken pie!" Happily, I had been warned as to the nature of shoat; but out of the rest I contrived to make a very good dinner, which, though it occupied not more than ten minutes to complete, was so slow of accomplishment in comparison with the time the others allowed themselves, that I found myself at the end left alone with the rotund landlord, who had rolled into a chair at the head of the table, and had gone on eating pork and cabbage up to that moment in profound silence. When I first perceived him, he was making a sign with his thumb over his shoulder, to the black boy, who instantly disappeared into the bar-room, and returned with the bottle of whisky in his hand. Mine host nearly filled his tumbler, and then pointed to me, saying, in a husky voice--

"Will you take a drink?--Good old rye--capital stuff--twenty year old, that. Though, may be, you'd like a julep. But I don't go in for juleps--the mint's over-heating, 'specially when one's dined."

"I thought you Virginian gentlemen took all your liquor before dinner," I answered, helping myself to a small portion of the whisky, which was, indeed, excellent.

"Some do, and some don't," he said, rather shily. "For my own part, I only take a glass or two of apple-jack before dinner; but I always have my glass of whisky-and-water after;" and, he added, about a spoonful of water to the tumblerful of spirits. "You see I'm a great sufferer from the dispepsy--indeed, most of us are about here." I thought it was no wonder, if they all ate as I had seen the people at that table. I literally saw one man pile up his plate with the following articles, in the order I put them down:--About a pound of boiled pork; the same quantity of cabbage; two large spoonfuls of a sort of French beans; a whole plateful of raw, undressed cucumber, cut in slices; a quantity of pickles, and a slice of ham. All this was consumed, I recollect, in the space of five minutes. However, my worthy host seemed to become gayer and more communicative upon the strength of his dinner; and in the course of a long chat with him in the porch, I obtained a good deal of information in regard to all the families for many miles around. He told me he had lived there for thirty years; he had built himself two houses, and knew everybody in the neighbourhood--man, woman, and child; white, black, and yellow. Amongst the rest, he had been well acquainted with Aunt Bab; and from some facts he told me, I am inclined to feel glad that I came over here--not, perhaps, to enrich myself, but to spoil a very nefarious scheme for the appropriation of her property by others. Besides much other intelligence, I learned that the spot about which was congregated most of my hitherto unknown relatives, was still at a distance of some twenty-five to thirty miles; and, consequently, as soon as the sun had declined sufficiently to throw some shade upon the road, I looked eagerly about for my friend Zed, and directed him to bring out the horses. Not a little patience is needed all over the world in the minor affairs of life. I do believe they affect us more, and more permanently, than those of greater importance. We cut the diamond with dust, which we cannot even scratch with steel; and I am confident that many a man's spirit is worn away and brought down with petty cares and small annoyances, who would have struggled manfully against great evils. The kind of servitude, too, of this country is peculiarly abundant in such trifling discomforts, proceeding from the character of the different classes of people and their relations to each other. As far as I have seen, there is no order, no system, no regularity;--a total absence of that military discipline and punctuality which makes everything roll smoothly. My friend Zed was full three-quarters of an hour before he had brought out the horses and got everything else ready. First, he had forgotten what they call here the hitching-reins, for tying the horses up to any fence or gate where it may be needful; then he had left in the stable my gun, which I had given him to carry; then he had got one of the girths twisted; and, in short, there were innumerable little things to set right which should never have gone wrong. The day was intensely hot, however--more so than any one out of Virginia can possibly conceive; and, though resolved to cut this sort of thing short at once, I could only speak a few words of remonstrance.

"Beg pardon, massa," said Zed. "Things not got accustomed to me yet; they'll all come right by-and-by." Trusting that it would be so, I rode on. The next five-and-twenty miles seemed the longest journey I had ever made. I will not attempt to describe it, for that is impossible. The air was suffocating. Not a breath of wind moved the trees or came along the road. The long unwatered dust rose up at every footfall of the horses; the poor beasts were in a lather, though going at a very easy trot, and I myself was in that condition which, though it may be healthy enough, is very ungentlemanly in its aspect. What would I not have given for the coldest breeze that ever blew across the Scottish moors!--What would I have given for a good heavy gray cloud!--What for a drenching shower! But none of these things were to be had; and I went on with a sort of desperation, knowing that unless I slept in one of the marshes, where the evening frogs were already beginning to croak, I had no place of refuge for several miles ahead. All this while, Zed looked as cool as a cucumber. It was really quite provoking to see the glossy black shining of his skin, and his crisp, white wool, while I was dropping from every pore, "and larding the lean earth as I rode along." But the good man seemed really to have compassion upon me; and, about half-past five o'clock, he pointed with his hand to the left, saying,

"You look tire, massa Richard. Dere's a house. Better go in and stop dere."

"But whose house is it, Zed?" I asked.

"Don't know, massa," answered Zed. Then, in pity of my ignorance, he added, "Nebber mind dat. They very glad to see you, whoever it be. All gentlemen do de same." I looked in the direction in which he pointed, and clearly enough could see the house of which he spoke. His suggestion came at a very opportune moment, for we had just got out of the forest and come upon a large space of open ground some thousand acres in extent, which seemed rich and well cultivated, and the sun, then declining in the west, threw his full beams upon us, almost blinding me. The house seemed inviting, too. It was a large, red, brick building, somewhat like an old English manor-house, with a number of sheds and stables and outhouses scattered irregularly around it, and a backing of copse, not forest, but apparently consisting of orchards and shrubberies. I could not resist it, and, turning to Zed, asked, "Where is the road?"

"Oh, pull down de fence," answered Zed, "and ride straight ahead." He was off his horse in a moment to perform the office he proposed; but the fence was not high; my horse took it easily, and Zed and his nag scrambled over the best way they could. The house was about half a mile from the road; and, not liking to ride over the grain, I had to thread my way through a somewhat narrow path, which made the distance greater. This path, however, led into a road, and that road to the bank of a very pretty stream, over which was a bridge of rather primitive construction. A gentle slope led from the little river to the front of the house, covered, if not exactly with turf, with green grass, shaded by fruit trees. The whole reminded me of Old England--dear, never-to=be-forgotten Old England! There was so much of a home-look about it that I felt sure of a welcome, and, throwing the reins to Zed, sprung off my horse and mounted the old stone steps to the door. I had no occasion to ring any bells--my coming had been espied. The door was open before I could stretch out my hand, and, besides the nice-looking negro who opened it, I could see two black girls going up a large oak staircase and looking over their shoulders.

"Walk in, sir," said the man; "massa very glad to see you." And, without more ceremony or inquiry, he opened a large door to the right of the hall. My only hope was now that I should find the master of the house alone, for I began to feel all the awkwardness of the proceeding. It was not to be so, however. The scene presented, as I entered the room, was very pleasant in the abstract, but not altogether so in the circumstances then existing. I had evidently come upon a little party of gentlemen just after dinner. The room was a fine, old-fashioned room, large and lofty, with the windows all open and the blinds all shut. In the centre was a mahogany table, large enough to seat ten or twelve people, though only four now surrounded it, and on that table were some dishes of preserves and early fruits, glasses and decanters, and some curious old articles of silver ware. The gentleman at the head of the table was a tall, dignified, hale-looking man, with hair nearly white, an aquiline nose, and rather heavy eyebrows. His dress was somewhat between morning and evening costume. He wore a narrow black handkerchief around his neck, and a snowy white shirt, with a collar cut a good deal back from the chin, and a small, neatly-plaited frill in front. His coat was black and swallow-tailed, but he had on leather breeches and top-boots. The upper part, with its white waistcoat, might have graced a lady's evening drawing-room; the lower part was quite fit for cover-side. On the right of him was a gentleman in black, with a very thick white neck-cloth, hair like spun silver, and a mild, benevolent face. On the other hand was a gentleman of rather odd attire and appearance, with his hair combed flat and far down upon his forehead, who, in expression, rather than in features, reminded me more strongly of a parrot than any human thing I ever saw. A good-humoured, jolly-looking, fat fellow, about ten years younger than the rest, with a blue coat and bright gilt buttons, sat a little lower down, and completed the party. I would have given all Aunt Bab's fortune to be out of the house again. I am not by any means habitually shy; but there are moments when a cloud of shyness will come over me, and then, I believe, I am as stiff as a poker. I was soon, however, set at my ease. The master of the house arose (be was six feet three at least), and with an air of the utmost cordiality and urbanity, came forward to meet me, holding out his hand.

"Very glad to see you, sir," he said. "Pray take a seat. Will, put some glasses for this gentleman." (This was addressed to the servant.) "We have had a very hot day--singularly hot for this early time of year. That is Madeira; that is claret. But I dare say you stand in need of other refreshment. Let me order you some dinner." All this was said with an air of unceremonious ease and kindness which broke down all restraint; and I answered with a slight laugh:--

"Three minutes ago, my dear sir, I would have given a great deal to be out of your house again; but now, I am very glad I believed the report I have received of the hospitality of Virginian gentlemen. I must apologize first for appearing here in this traveller's guise, and next for appearing here at all. The truth is, I have ridden a long way, and, not accustomed to such tremendous heat, felt quite exhausted by it. Moreover, I knew not my road very well, or where I might find accommodation for the night."

"Where but here?" said my host, with a frank laugh. "I understand it all, my dear sir; make no further explanations. These things occur to us every day, and very gratifying they are; for, besides breaking a little the quiet routine of our country circle, they occasionally introduce us to pleasant acquaintances which sometimes ripen into friendships." Just as he spoke, who should put his head into the door but Master Zed, asking, unceremoniously, "Where shall I put de saddle-bags, Massa Richard?"

"Ask for Will, uncle, and tell him to show you the blue room," said my host. Then turning to me with a somewhat puzzled air, as if the familiarity of my servant prompted the question, he observed, "You are not a Virginian, I think?"

"No, sir," I answered; "I am an Englishman, come to wander for a month or two through the Old Dominion."

"Sir, you are most welcome here," responded my new friend. "My name is Thornton--Henry Thornton. This is my reverend friend Mr. Alsiger. This, Mr. Hubbard; and this, Mr. Byles--familiarly known amongst us as 'bold Billy Byles;' for a bolder man at a fence, a swamp, or a cane-brake, is not to be found between this and Charleston." This was said with a good-humoured laugh, and a nod to the gentleman in the blue coat and gilt buttons, who, for his part, shook hands heartily with me, and filled my glass full of claret. But nobody asked my name; and I was glad to find that this remnant of old chivalrous courtesy still prevailed in hospitable Virginia. After a pause of a few moments, such as is naturally produced when conversation has been interrupted, and has not had time to resume its course, Mr. Thornton observed:--

"I am always glad to meet an English gentleman, for my mother's brother married a lady from that country, who died not long ago; and the dearest, best, most charming old woman she was that ever the world saw."

"She was indeed," echoed the clergyman, from the other side. A smile, though it might be somewhat of a grave one, came up in my face, to find that I had so unexpectedly dropped in amongst dear Aunt Bab's connections. The quick eye of my host caught sight of the smile directly, and he readily drew his own conclusions; for he gave it me back again with a very slight inclination of the head, saying, sotto voce----

"Ah, ha!" None of the rest took any notice; and the wine continued to circulate round the table, until, suddenly, I heard from another room the tones of a piano, apparently very well played.

"Bessy thinks we are too long at our wine, and that is the way the gipsy calls us," said Mr. Thornton. "But we won't let her saucy tricks interrupt us. Fill your glasses, gentlemen. I will give you a toast. Here's eternal peace and good-will between old England and old Virginia; and may the kindred streams which flow in the veins of both never warm to anything but mutual friendship." All drank the toast with apparent alacrity and good feeling; and, although I am quite sure, from what I have seen and heard in this country, that a great many Americans remember with sore and irritable feelings, not only the war of the revolution, but the last war; and others who, for the purpose of pandering to the worst feelings of the basest of the population, affect enmity towards England; yet the majority of the wise and well-thinking would fain cultivate a good understanding between two countries, each of which bestows benefits upon and receives benefits from the other; ay and many, who have not forgotten all kindred ties, still look upon Great Britain as the birthplace of their race. Remembering, at length, after a very pleasant hour, that it was the custom in this country for a stranger to take the lead in departing from any scene of festivity. I rose, and proposed to retire to my room, saying:--

"I am not in fit guise to join any party of ladies, Mr. Thornton; but, if you will permit me, I will change my dress, and join you presently where those sweet strains are pouring forth."

"Let me show you the way," he said, taking a candle from the table; "and remember this is a place perfectly without ceremony. If you feel too much fatigued to-night for society, we shall expect to see you to-morrow at breakfast. If not, there is the room where you will find us assembled till ten o'clock this evening." And he pointed to a door on the other side of the hall, which was shut, notwithstanding the heat of the night. He now guided me up the stairs to a large, handsome room on the first floor, where I found everything that could be required for comfort, or even luxury; and, setting down the candle, for it was now twilight, he was about to leave me, still without asking my name. I stopped him, however; and a slight explanation ensued, which, notwithstanding my previous determination, I found myself bound to afford to one who had received me with such courteous hospitality. But I abstained from disclosing my name. He did not suffer me to go on long. "Say no more," he replied; "say no more. Your secret, if it be one, is safe with me. I dare say you have your reasons for remaining incog.; and, to tell you the truth, I am both glad you are come, and glad you are come quickly; for you have a good deal to hear and see about this place, and, perhaps, a little to do, which may require some thought as to the mode of doing it. My domestics will look to your general wants; and your own servants, I dare say, will take care of your more particular requirements." Thus saying he left me; and I sat down to think of the events of the day, before I went below to join what I could not but hear was a gay party.

[CHAPTER V.]

It was by this time dark enough to make candles needful in the room; yet upon the western sky, as I gazed at it from the window, were still traced one or two lines of ruby light, with other lines which, probably, in the day, would have seemed but faint streaks of mist, now changed into a leaden blue by the approaching night. The principal features of the landscape also were still visible, though all the minor objects were lost. A glistening river reflected the colour of the western sky like a stream of blood; the undulating slopes of the land sometimes caught, on the summits, a touch of light, but were generally dark and grey; the distant trees in one or two places let through between their holes a glimpse of the fervid sunset sky; and high above were stars beginning to look out, eager for the departure of him who made them veil their glory. Nearer, far nearer, however, were little stars of earth. From under every bush, and amongst the branches of every fruit tree, dancing, skimming, now suddenly appearing, now suddenly eclipsed, were the fire-flies, those beautiful, most beautiful insects. I had seen many in Italy, coming out in clouds from the willows by the way-side, in the neighbourhood of Mantua and Modena. There, they looked like little sparks of fire, red in colour, whirling and bursting forth in clouds; but these in Virginia were larger, calmer, of a softer and more beautiful light, sometimes yellow like the moon, sometimes even of a bluish tinge, but exceedingly bright, and comparable to nothing I know of but small shooting stars. A spirit of calm enjoyment came over me after my hot and dusty ride, which I was in no haste to cast off; and I know not how long I should have gazed and pondered, but to the music of the piano were soon added the tones of a voice singing; and, resolving to improve the time to the utmost, I rose to search for my saddle-bags, and to ring for my good friend Zed. The room, I have said, contained everything requisite for comfort; but there was one exception. No such thing as a bell was to be seen. As if my step, however, awoke attendance, I had hardly reached the table when the door opened, and a neat little black boy in a white jacket presented himself, carrying in his hand a pair of slippers and a night cap. He asked, with the usual grin, if he could do anything for me; and, without waiting for a reply, pounced at once upon the saddle-bags, began untrussing them, and distributed their contents very skilfully in a chest of drawers. He was evidently well taught, though he could not refrain--what negro boy of fourteen could?--from examining curiously many of the unknown articles which he brought forth, and especially one of Palmer's neat little roll dressing-cases, which seemed to puzzle him amazingly. It was too much for human nature; and at length he turned, and simply asked me what it was. As I opened it to his eyes, he burst into a joyous peal of laughter, and, I could clearly perceive, would fain have been fingering the razors and other articles; but I dismissed him and told him to send my servant up. After dressing myself, and giving some directions to Zed, I walked down stairs again, looked in at the dining-room door to insure that I should find some known faces in the other room; and then crossing to the door which Mr. Thornton had pointed out, I entered with as much quiet dignity as a man of seven-and-twenty can assume. Instantly a blaze of light and a blaze of cheerful faces met my eyes. Mr. Thornton himself and the three other gentlemen whom I had seen before were there; but, besides these, the company included an elderly lady with silver hair and a very white cap, half a dozen fair-haired, bright-eyed girls of various ages from thirteen to twenty, two little boys, and a young man of about one-and-twenty. There was moreover in that room a young lady, very different in appearance from any of the rest, with jet black hair, dark eyes, and a fair skin, which nevertheless showed the brunette in its tint. She was small in every respect: her form, her feet, her hands were all miniatures; and, though exceedingly delicate and symmetrical, the whole had an aspect of insignificance, if I may so call it, at the first sight. She was tastefully and even elegantly dressed; though there was something a little fantastic in a bunch of wild leaves which she had entwined in her hair. As I entered, she was moving from the piano; and I naturally concluded she was the goddess of the song I had heard. She drew back, however, to the further side of the room when she saw me; and Mr. Thornton, rising, put his hand gently under my arm and led me forward to the old lady whom he named as Mrs. Thornton.

"These are my daughters," he added, waving his hand around the blue-eyed, fair-haired group. "This, my cousin, Mr. Dudley," introducing the young gentleman. "These two, my boys; and this, my saucy niece, Bessy. Nay, Bessy, come forth and don't affect what you never felt in your life, namely, shyness."

"Nay, my dear uncle," she answered, "I am not the least shy; but it was necessary to give you time to introduce all the generations of Adam, and to let this gentleman receive them into his cogitations. You did not tell me his name, however." This was a point which Mr. Thornton and I had not settled; but he answered, at once, with a shrewd twinkle of the eye,--

"Mr. Howard, my dear--Mr. Richard Howard. You are cousins, of course; for the Davenports, being related to all the best blood of England, must count cousinship with the Howards, beyond doubt. So make much of him, Bessy--make much of him." While her uncle had been speaking, Miss Davenport had surveyed me from head to foot, with an air which I must not call impudent nor even assured, but with a certain degree of saucy fun in the expression of her countenance, which I cannot say was altogether agreeable to me. I hate piquante women, and would a great deal rather that a woman had no wit at all, than that her wit should trench upon her womanly qualities. A strong-minded woman is worse; for then the feminine characteristics are almost obliterated--though you are sure to find out the woman somewhere; but the next bad thing to that is the piquante woman, whose wit overbears her tenderness. Still I was a little doubtful whether this was altogether the case with the fair lady before me; for, as soon as I perceived the way she scanned me,--and, being apparently rather short-sighted, she even put up a double eye-glass, to look at me more accurately,--I fixed my eyes quietly on her face, seeking to read something therein while she was examining me. The moment she detected me in so doing, the glass was removed, the eye-lids dropped, and a slight rosy colour came up in her cheeks, like day-dawn purpling the pale East. The next moment she said, as if in reply to her uncle's last words--

"My cousin is very welcome, then, to Virginia, Uncle Henry. God be praised, his name is Richard; for we have had Roberts enough in our race to extinguish any family under the sun."

"And pray what have the Roberts done to be so slandered, Bessy?" asked the elderly gentleman who had been introduced to me as Mr. Hubbard, walking across the room and addressing her in a tone of fatherly kindness.

"What have they not done?" interrogated Miss Davenport, with a gay laugh, "from Robert the Norman, and Robert the rhymer downwards. The records of horse-stealing and petty larceny are full of Roberts. Why in a book Uncle Henry lent me the other day, I counted at least twenty of them who had been convicted of one offence or another, to say nothing of a near relation of mine who would have cheated me out of everything I had in the world, if my uncle here would have let him."

"You forget my name is Robert, too?" replied Mr. Hubbard.

"Ah, my dear friend," she answered, laying her hand gently on his arm, "you are the exception, you know, which proves the general rule."

"And you are the greatest little hypocrite that ever lived," replied Mr. Hubbard, with a kindly smile. "Ay, I know you, Bessy. You cannot cheat me." Her face grew crimson; but she answered as briskly as ever:--

"All men think they know women's characters, but they know nothing at all about them; and how should an old bachelor know anything of woman? You had a great deal better marry me, and I will soon show you how well you understand me. We are not within the prohibited degrees, I think, cousin Hubbard, are we? Your great grandmother was my great grandmother's fifteenth cousin on the mother's side, if I recollect rightly; so the doors of the church are open to us, I fancy. But I will look in the prayer-book and see when I get up stairs, and tell you all about it to-morrow, and ask you to fix the day. But, my dear uncle, 'tis very sultry. Let us go into the porch." She was passing through us towards the drawing-room, when I detained her for a moment, to ask if she would not let me hear more distinctly the sweet voice I had heard singing at a distance. She looked up in my face with a quiet smile, saying,--

"I could answer you from the Bible, if I liked; but I will only reply--distance gives softness to everything, Mr. Howard. I will not dispel the illusion."

"How from the Bible?" I asked.

"Nay, nay," she replied; "I must not let my light, idle spirits carry me away into profanity. Sometimes, you know, the words of books we are much accustomed to read, come very aptly to the purpose, though very much out of reason. All I meant to say, that, while I was playing and singing, none of you gentlemen would come in; and now the opera is over I cannot do any more to-night; unless you all like to stand up and have a dance, and then I'll play for you until my fingers ache." Thus saying, she made her way to the door, and went out into the porch of the house. One by one most of the others followed; and I could see the sweet scene lying before the house, with the moonlight resting on the dewy grass, and the fire-flies flashing along the lawn. Even old Mrs. Thornton took her work in her hand, and followed the rest; and I was moving in the same direction, when Mr. Thornton stopped me, saying,--

"I want to talk to you a little." Then, lowering his voice, he added: "It is better that we should have a short conversation to-night upon points which, if I understand rightly, may considerably affect the matter in hand. I may be mistaken in the conclusions I have come to. As far as I have gone, I can have done no harm; but, as my friend Byles there would say, 'A hound that gets on a false scent, may be easily driven back at the beginning; but, if he runs on long, Heaven only knows where he will go to.'"

"I thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Thornton," I replied. "I want advice--I may want assistance; and, above all things, I want what the French would call la carte du pays."

"You shall have it as far as I can give it," said Mr. Thornton. "Just follow me into my little room, and we will have a clear understanding before we sleep." He opened a door at the other side of the parlour, and led the way across a stone hall, where we passed two or three negroes, all apparently as joyous and merry as they could be; but I was too much occupied with thoughts of my own to take the notice of them which I should have taken a day or two before. Consideration had been forced upon me rapidly. I was obliged to come to a conclusion much sooner than I had expected; and the question was, whether I was to place full confidence in my accidental host--to tell him all about myself and my own plans, or only to tell him as much as I could not conceal without ungentlemanly insincerity. His manner, his appearance, his language, were all those of a high-bred gentleman; his establishment was apparently that of a wealthy man; and there was a comfortable, home-like respectability about everything, that induced one to argue thus:--

"A man who has led such a life as this up to his age, is not likely to fall from it or to be subject to degrading and ruinous vices." But the conversation which I had heard between the master of the schooner and the slave-trader, as I came down the Chesapeake, did not connect the name of Thornton with very favourable memories. Before I could make up my mind exactly how to act, we were in the little book-room or library he had mentioned: and he courteously motioned me to a well-stuffed easy chair, while he took another on the opposite side of the table. For a moment an awkward pause ensued; and he then said,--

"Do not let me appear obtrusive or inquisitive; but I think I have the pleasure of speaking to Sir Richard Conway?" I bowed my head, replying,--

"The same, Mr. Thornton. From what has fallen from you, I imagine that we are no very distant connections, although it is by the merest accident I stopped at your house."

"My dear sir," he rejoined, "you have fallen into the midst of relations. Almost every one you saw around you is more or less connected with you, by blood or marriage. My uncle married your aunt; consequently we are first cousins, in law at least; all my children are in the next degree to you. Mr. Hubbard is as nearly connected. Mr. Alsiger stands in the same relationship, and our pretty little Bessy is your second cousin by blood." He paused, and thought for a moment, and then added, in a very grave tone,--

"So far this is all very satisfactory---that you should have come here in the first instance--that you should have come incog.--and that I should have divined all about it by a certain resemblance that you bear to an old picture at your aunt's house. But much must be thought of, Sir Richard--much must be told--many plans must be arranged. We must make a late sitting of it tonight, that you may have time to sleep over the matter, and take what steps you think fit to-morrow, not without deliberation. But, hark! There is a horse trotting up to the house." Walking to the door, he opened it, calling to one of the negroes, and saying--"C[ae]sar, tell Mr. Hubbard I hope he is not going home to-night. He is in the porch. Say I want to see him, to have some conversation with him." Then, turning to me, he added--"His advice may be very useful to us; he was once one of the most eminent counsel in Virginia; but his voice has become feeble; and he quitted the bar in consequence, I believe, of a rude judge saying to him--'Speak out, Mr. Hubbard! Neither judge nor jury can hear you.' He answered quietly, 'The ears of justice are somewhat deaf in Virginia.' But he never appeared at the bar again. His advice, however, is always excellent, for it's law and it's honesty. I would not advise a rogue to consult him; but he is the best adviser for a man of honour." He had hardly concluded the last sentence, when the servant to whom he had called opened the door, and said, in much better English than the negroes usually employ,--

"A gentleman, come on horseback, wants to speak with you, sir."

"Show him in," said Mr. Thornton promptly; but then added, "What sort of a man is he, C[ae]sar?"

"Very smart gentleman, sir," answered Caesar, with a slight snigger, if I may use such an expression. "Too smart; has got a good horse though."

"Well, show him in," repeated Mr. Thornton. The moment after, who should be ushered into the room but my fellow-traveller, Mr. Lewis himself, as much bedizened with rings and diamonds as ever. Mr. Thornton arose from his seat as the other entered, surveyed him quietly, and then remained standing. What it was in his air and manner I do not know; but I came to the conclusion merely from his look, that he comprehended in a moment the character of his visitor, and I watched the little scene that ensued with no slight interest.

"Mr. Thornton, I presume?" said Mr. Lewis, with a sweet soft air.

"The same, sir," replied Mr. Thornton, bowing. "In what way can I serve you?"

"Why, I have a little business to speak upon with you, Mr. Thornton," replied Mr. Lewis, with a side glance at me, whose full face he could not discern, as I sat with my back partly towards the door by which he had entered. "But perhaps we had better be private."

"As far as I am concerned," answered Mr. Thornton, "I do not know that there is anything I should not desire to be said in the presence of this gentleman; and if the business refers to anybody else, I always prefer that the communication should be made in writing, that I may think over my reply. Pray be seated," he added; and Mr. Lewis took a seat.

"Oh, if you, Mr. Thornton, don't mind, I don't," replied the other. "The matter is a very simple one--a mere matter of business. In short, I heard a few days ago that you had a lot of niggers for sale--some fifty or sixty; and though the lot is but a small one, I thought I would just step in and ask, as I was going up the country. No man can afford to give a better price than I can. I am known to treat well all I buy; and I just judged you might think it better to sell them to me, than to bring them to the hammer." A bright red spot had come up in Mr. Thornton's cheek; a deep furrow gathered between his eyebrows; his eye flashed; he set his teeth hard; and I thought there was some very violent answer coming. But instead of that, he remained perfectly silent for at least a minute, beating the ground with his foot.

"Pray where do you come from, sir?" he asked, at length, in a perfectly quiet tone.

"I live in Baltimore," answered Mr. Lewis; "but I do my principal business in New Orleans. I dare say we can make a trade, Mr. Thornton, for I deal as liberal as any man." Again Mr. Thornton remained silent, looking at the carpet. Then turning suddenly upon the other, he said, in a loud, stern voice,--

"You make a great mistake, sir. Let me tell you, no Virginian gentleman sells his servants, except in one of two cases. He is either bankrupt himself, or the servant whom he sells is too bad for him to keep. There is not one servant I have whom I would part with to you or any man, so long as he serves me faithfully, and I have the means to give him food. God grant it may never be otherwise!" Mr. Lewis turned a little white; but he stammered forth, in what seemed to be a somewhat impudent tone,--

"No offence, sir, I hope--no offence. I was informed positively----"

"I know, sir--I comprehend," interrupted Mr. Thornton, waving his hand. "You have been labouring under a mistake, which excuses your proposal. My name is Henry Thornton, sir. The person you wished to see is William Thornton, a distant relation of mine. There have been some painful mistakes already." Mr. Lewis still kept his seat, nowise abashed, though somewhat cowed; and, after biting his nether lip for a moment, he asked,--

"Pray, how far is it to Mr. William Thornton's?"

"About fifteen miles," answered my host drily.

"Lord bless my soul!" cried the trader, "what shall I do? My horse is dead tired; and I do not know the way." Mr. Thornton sat mute for a moment or two; and there was evidently a struggle within him. The old feelings of hospitality triumphed in a degree, however. "All the rooms in my house," he said, at length, "will, I believe, be occupied to-night; but there is one at the overseer's at your service. I will call a servant to show you the way." Approaching the door, he again called C[ae]sar, saying,--

"Conduct that gentleman to Mr. Jones's, and beg him to supply him with supper and what accommodation he may want." Then, with a very stiff bow, he saw Mr. Lewis depart, and closed the door after him.

"A slave-dealer never slept in this house since it was built," he said, in a somewhat apologetic tone, as soon as the man was gone. "I should almost be afraid of its catching fire, if he remained in it all night." He then broke into a laugh, partly gay and partly sarcastic, as it seemed to me; and, after musing for a moment, he observed,--

"This is strange--very strange, that he should have come here this night of all others in the week; but I am sorry now I dismissed him so rapidly. We have already got one good hint from him, Sir Richard, and perhaps might get more--though I do not much like fish that breed in muddy waters."

"I really do not understand you, Mr. Thornton," I answered. "This good man came down in the boat with me from Baltimore to Norfolk; and I heard some conversation going on between him and the master of the vessel, about the probable sale of a Mr. Thornton's slaves."

"And very likely thought I was the Mr. Thornton," said my host, with a quiet smile. "Nay, make no excuse; it was a very natural mistake. But the case is this--Mr. William Thornton is my first cousin, with a hitch in the consanguinity which had almost made me, like an Irishman, call him my first cousin once removed. His father and my father were half-brothers; but his father was the elder by two or three years. They were both brothers of Colonel Thornton, who married your excellent aunt, Bab. Now, Colonel Thornton was as good a man as ever lived; but, having been a gay, dashing soldier, he had maintained in his household that sort of fine old Virginian economy which has brought so many of our best families to ruin. He was very nearly on the brink thereof when he married your aunt. Her fortune served, in some degree, to patch up his; her wise economy did the rest, without his ever perceiving that his native hospitality slackened in the least degree; so that, at the end of twenty years, he found himself, to his great surprise, a rich man, with an unencumbered estate. They had no children, unfortunately; and, very naturally, at his death, he left all he had to her who had saved it for him. Now we come to your part of the matter. Your aunt survived her husband twelve or fourteen years; and though she had not seen her own land, or any of her relations, except Mrs. Davenport and one other, for well nigh half a century, her heart naturally turned, on her death-bed, to those whose blood flowed in her own veins; and, as we all understood, she left her property to you."

"I have the will with me, duly authenticated," I replied.

"That is all right," rejoined Mr. Thornton; "but you were written to more than two years ago, and never answered."

"I beg your pardon," I replied. "I did answer as soon as I got the letters. I was then in India with my regiment, so that neither of them reached me for several months; but the first I received I answered at once, and the second very shortly after I received it, requesting further information as to the nature and extent of the property, and what steps were necessary to make it secure."

"Two letters!" ejaculated Mr. Thornton, thoughtfully. "I only know of one having been written to you. Do you remember the signatures?"

"I have them both up stairs," I answered. "One, I now remember, was signed 'Hubbard,' and advised my coming over immediately. The second was, I think, signed 'Robert Thornton, Attorney-at-law,' who desired I would send him out a power of attorney to act for me."

"This man's son!" exclaimed Mr. Thornton. "We never heard of that, and never received any answer to the first letter--perhaps it was intercepted. However, Mr. William Thornton almost immediately took out letters of administration to Colonel Thornton's property, as his next of kin--although your aunt had so long enjoyed undisputed possession. He has since, with the aid of this hopeful son of his, been fencing himself in with all sorts of legal forms and quibbles--has got possession of the negroes, let the old house and plantation, and is now, we understand, moving the legislature to escheat the property and grant it to him; the heirs being, as he declares, aliens."

"But does your law sanction such doings?" I asked.

"It sanctions a good many things that it should not sanction," replied Mr. Thornton; "and these matters of escheat and administration are so loosely managed here, that the property of persons dying without relations actually on the spot is an object of speculation and a means of livelihood to half the rogues in the state. Thank God, my dear young friend, you are here at last; for it is not too late yet to stop this iniquitous affair, though he has sold all the cattle and all the horses, which is a dead loss, I suppose."

"But can he not be made accountable?" I inquired. Mr. Thornton smiled.

"There are two sorts of banks," he answered, "from one of which you can draw money, from the other nothing but pebblestones. Now, Mr. William Thornton's bank is of the latter quality. The court required security, it is true, when they granted the letters of administration, but took men who are more deeply bankrupt than himself. That is the way we manage things in Virginia, especially when the people who are really interested do not appear to take care of their own property."

"But, my dear sir," I replied, "it was impossible. I was in India with my regiment. As some battles were coming on--expected every day--it was impossible either to ask for leave of absence or to sell out, until the war was at an end. As soon as that occurred, I did sell out; for the climate did not agree with me. I got bilious, and home-sick, and moody; disliked pillaus, abominated rice, and could not bear curry; was thoroughly disgusted with pale ale and claret, and thought Allahabad's sun the most unpleasant gentleman that ever rode the sky. Besides, I did not know what my aunt had left me. It might have been nothing but an old farthingale, for aught I knew to the contrary." Mr. Thornton laughed at the description of my disgust with India, but grew serious again directly, saying, "I beg your pardon. It is a very richly embroidered farthingale, I can assure you; as fine a plantation as any in Virginia, worth at least, under good management, from twelve to fifteen thousand dollars a year; a nice old house, somewhat like this; a good deal of scattered property; and about fifty negroes. The rest she emancipated; but these preferred to remain in their old condition, being accustomed to no other, and feeling that they wanted somebody to take care of them. Poor creatures! I dare say they are sorry enough now; but they had no notion into whose hands they are going to fall." His words made me muse for a moment. I then said, "Still, Mr. Thornton, I do not see how the words of that man Lewis, who was here just now, gave us any serviceable hint."

"Why don't you perceive?" he answered; "these fifty negroes, whom William Thornton wishes to sell, are the very fifty which your aunt left. He has not half a dozen of his own. He dare not bring these to the hammer, for fear of somebody opposing him; but if he gets rid of them by private sale, and sends them to New Orleans, we may whistle as long as we will, without getting either the servants or the money back again. But we had better consult Hubbard. Have you any objection to my telling him who you are? He will see the necessity of secrecy as well as we do."

"Not in the slightest degree," I answered. Mr. Thornton now rose and left the room. In two minutes he returned, bringing with him Mr. Hubbard, who seemed somewhat impatient of mood, saying, as he passed the door, "But really, Henry, I must get home. Positively I cannot stay to-night. I have got an attack of sciatica coming on. I feel it quite plainly; and nobody can nurse me like old Betty, you know." Mr. Thornton thrust him down into a chair, however, saying, "Rest your sciatica there, and let me introduce you to your cousin and mine, Sir Richard Conway." Mr. Hubbard rubbed the spectacles he had in his hand with the tail of his coat, put them on his nose, and gazed at me.

"Sir Richard Conway!" he exclaimed. "God bless my soul! I thought you were an older man. Well, I am very happy to see you, however; though you should either have come over sooner or answered my letter." All the explanations had now to be given anew; but he took my excuses in very good part, and plunged at once into an ocean of family affairs and points of law, which made him totally forget his sciatica and his desire to return home. The discussion was long; but it was highly beneficial and necessary. A definite course of action was laid out, to be commenced on the following morning; and at about half-past nine o'clock we arose from our conference, with the satisfaction of knowing that we were in a fair way of frustrating as iniquitous a scheme as was ever devised. I walked at once out towards the porch, where I heard music and singing going on of a simple kind, but of no very inferior quality, and I imagined that my fair connection, Bessy Davenport, had been prevailed upon to grant to others what she had refused to me. I was mistaken, however; she was leaning against one of the pillars, looking up at the moon. The music proceeded from a negro boy, sixteen or seventeen years of age, who was seated on one of the steps of the porch, cheek-by-jowl with one of Mr. Thornton's younger daughters, and playing on an instrument called a banjo--a sort of circular-bodied guitar, the strings of which he struck with the most extraordinary rapidity and skill, while he accompanied the sounds thus produced with the notes of a rich mellow voice, singing a wild negro song about--

"The shocking of the corn."

He was near the end of it when I came up, and I would willingly have encored it; but he changed at once to a very merry air; and a group of young people of the same complexion as himself, who had been standing round resting, I presumed, commenced dancing on the lawn with a right good will. They threw themselves into strange and grotesque, but sometimes picturesque and not ungraceful attitudes; and their whirling dark figures, the bright moonlight, and the flashing of the fireflies, actually amongst their feet, formed a scene I shall not easily forget. We stood gazing until the clock struck ten, little or no conversation going on meanwhile; but then Bessy Davenport and Louisa Thornton, my host's eldest daughter, came towards the door near which I stood. The former held out her hand frankly, saying.--

"Good night, Cousin Howard. We are all early birds here. May quiet dreams attend you; and if you ask me civilly, tomorrow, I will sing you 'Old Virginia,' or something equally classical." Thus ended my first evening on a Virginia plantation. In my own room, I ruminated on it all for half an hour, with sober pleasure. There had been something to amuse, something to interest, but nothing to excite or to disturb; and the mind could rest upon the memories of that day without one agitating sensation. I was a little fatigued with my hot ride, however, and at length I lay down on as soft a bed as I had ever met with, and my eyes closed quietly.

[CHAPTER VI.]

I woke early in the morning, after having passed the night in dreamless slumber. Not a memory of the day's doings--not a vague shadow of thoughts, or words, or deeds--flitted across the chasm of sleep. When I opened my eyes, however, the daylight--faint and unconfirmed--was streaming in at the windows; and, for half an hour or more, I enjoyed one of those pleasant, idle lapses of existence which we so rarely have leisure to indulge, when life, like a river between its cataracts and rapids, rests unruffled by thought or action, without a ripple to mark that it is flowing on; and with nothing reflected from its tranquil surface but the faint, glistening images of the quiet things which surround it. I saw a patch of the blue sky through the window, and a soft white cloud float slowly across. I looked at the large, brass-topped andirons in the wide fireplace, and contemplated the lions' heads which adorned them. I made a human face out of the sleeve of my coat, as it hung over the back of a chair, with a large nose and a heavy eye-brow; and it looked so sleepy, that I had almost dropped into slumber again, out of mere sympathy, when suddenly the door of the room opened, and in came a nice-looking black boy, with a clean white jacket and apron, and a tray with several well-filled glasses upon it. He walked composedly up to my bedside, and presented the tray.

"What is this, my friend?" I said, taking one of the glasses, which appeared full of a clear brownish liquid, some lumps of ice and some fresh green herbs.

"The mint juleps, sir," replied the boy, waiting for me to drink, in order to take the glass away.

"The mint juleps!" I thought. "I wonder if it is one of the laws of the land that every one must drink a mint julep before he rises." However, I tasted the beverage, and it was delicious and most refreshing, at least for the time. The coolness imparted by the ice effectually screened the palate from all the hotter things which it contained; and it was not till afterwards that I found it would be advisable not to drink brandy with mint steeped in it so early in the morning. Hardly had the little limonadier gone, when my friend Zed appeared, and, while he was engaged with great skill and assiduity in putting all my dressing things to wrongs with true negro officiousness, he opened his morning budget of gossip by telling me that we could not have arrived at a better time, for there was soon to be a great camp-meeting in the immediate neighbourhood, where some very godly men were to hold forth. I had long wished to see one of these curious assemblages, and I accordingly took care to inform myself of the day and place where the exercises were to be held. Zed then proceeded, while I dressed, to tell me the whole politics of the family, with the business-like manner and volubility of a Spanish barber. From him I thus learned that Mr. Byles--or bold Billy Byles--was a suitor for the hand of Louisa, Mr. Thornton's eldest daughter, but that it was the general opinion of the kitchen and adjacent domains that he would not succeed in his suit, for that young Mr. Whitehead, the Presbyterian minister, came often to see Miss Lou in the morning, and was a very gentle, engaging young man. Master Harry, he said, my cousin's eldest boy, was a wild young dog, showing the true Virginian fondness for horse-flesh and fire-arms, having broken the knees of one of his father's best steeds, and burst two guns already, besides setting fire to the stables by exploding a percussion-cap with a hammer. How long he would have gone on I know not, had my dressing not been brought to an end; when, telling him to be within call after breakfast, I went down to the lower floor. I found the drawing-room--or parlour as they call it here--vacant, and sauntered out into the porch, where the first thing I saw was Mr. Lewis, walking his horse quietly along the road from the overseer's house towards the highway. The next instant I perceived one of the servants start out upon him, like a spider from the corner of his web upon an entangled blue-bottle, and hand him a paper. I knew well enough what sort of document it was, namely, a caveat against the sale or purchase of any of the slaves of good Aunt Bab, signed by Mr. Thornton as agent, and Mr. Hubbard as attorney of Sir Richard Conway, under a power which had been drawn up the night before. This power had been rapidly and informally executed, and probably was invalid; but my presence rendered it unnecessary, except inasmuch as it enabled me to remain incognito for some time longer, and watch the proceedings of the conspirators. I must remark, it was not dated, and was merely alluded to in the caveat, so that no immediate indication of my visit to Virginia was afforded by that document. Mr. Lewis had just passed on his way, after reading the paper with feelings which of course I could not divine, when, from the other side, I saw approaching a pretty little female figure, dressed in a peculiar style, or rather in a medley of a great number of styles and fashions, outraging all of them in some respects. She had no bonnet on, but merely a parasol over her head; the length of her dress, instead of being of that extensive flow which has succeeded the short petticoats of a few years ago, was brief enough to show an exceedingly pretty foot and ankle, but it was so conspicuously full as to put me in mind of the costume of some of the Swiss cantons. Her shoes had minute buckles in them instead of being sandalled in modern style; and her hair, instead of being propped up to a towering height with a scaffolding of tortoise-shell, lay flat, and was gathered into a knot behind, in the antique Greek mode. As soon as her parasol was turned a little aside, I perceived it was Miss Davenport; and though she came quietly on, with her eyes bent upon the path, apparently unconscious that I was in the porch, I was, I am afraid, unjust to her, and imagined that there was a good deal of coquetry in both dress and manner. She had puzzled me the night before--she puzzled me still. There was something of frankness, something of archness, which was not displeasing; but something also of daring, of independence, of wilfulness, which I did not like. Pretty she certainly was, nay, beautiful; for the more one examined the small features and delicate form, the more symmetry and the more grace were apparent. But I never was one of those who can fall in love with pictures, or statues, or even marionettes. Pygmalion's statue might have remained ivory to the great conflagration, before I would have sighed or prayed it into life; and as for actresses, I always feel a green curtain falling between me and them, even before the end of the play. It seemed that morning as if some peculiar demon had seized upon me, and made me resolve, for my sins, to see what really was in Bessy Davenport--to tease her, to worry her, and to bring out the latent soul. I went forward to meet her; and, as soon as she really saw me, her whole aspect and manner changed. A gay, light, half-sarcastic smile played upon her lip, her eyes sparkled, and, holding out her hand, she said,--

"Good morning, cousin; I hope your aristocratic head has been able to repose quietly in this democratic community." I might feel a little staggered by this easy salutation. It was rather like a small masked battery opening upon one when marching gaily up to an attack; but I rallied my forces at once, and replied, "As well as if all the coronets that ever were lined with ermine had rested beside me on the pillow. Democracy is not a catching disease, I should imagine, from all I have seen of it. But may I ask how you slept? I trust without any painful visions of slaughtered swains and disconsolate lovers, or any twinges of remorse for all the woes you have and will inflict upon mankind."

"None, in truth," she answered at once. "Do you know I once killed a rattlesnake?--yes, with my own hand; and when I saw the shining reptile lie dead before me, I remembered he had given honourable warning before he sprang, and then I might feel a little regret that I had struck him so hastily with the butt of my riding-whip. But man is a very different sort of reptile: he gives no warning, and is far more venomous." A strange sort of painful feeling was produced in my mind by her words. I asked myself, "Can this young girl, apparently not twenty, have already tasted of that bitter cup which man so often holds to woman's lip?" The shadow of the thought must have crossed my face, for I was roused from my half-reverie by a clear, gay laugh. "Now I will show you," she said, "how women can divine. I am no love-lorn maiden, pining for some faithless swain--no man-hater from personal experience of man's unworthiness. I never saw the man yet, and never shall, who could raise my pulse one beat to hear his coming or his going step. But let me do justice to both sides. No man ever said to me in a sweet maudlin tone, 'Bessy, will you marry me?' nor even, to my face, declared I was the most charming of my sex, or anything of that kind. But I judge men from what I have seen of their conduct towards others; and I believe them to be the most thoroughly selfish class of beings--at least as far as women are concerned--that God ever created."

"And when it becomes your case to listen and have sweet words spoken," I replied, "you will think you and the speaker are two bright exceptions." She coloured a little, and looked almost angry, saying, "Never! I will never give any one the opportunity; for I go very much with the old saying, 'no gentleman was ever refused by a lady.' I mean, no man who is really a gentleman would propose to a lady who had not given him such encouragement as would preclude her, if really a lady, from refusing him if he did propose."

"Then you would have a lady," I said, "give a man encouragement before she knows whether he really loves her or not. Or you would have her advance step by step with him, like two armies in battle-array, watching each other's movements, and each taking care that the other did not get the slightest advantage; sure to get upon some slippery ground before they have done, my dear young lady!" Her face was now glowing like a rose, and she answered quite impatiently, "Pshaw! you know what I mean; and every man of common tact will, in his heart, admit that I am right."

"In neither one or the other of the two cases," I replied.

"What two cases?" she asked.

"Two assertions, I should have called them," answered I; "the one you just now made, and the preceding one, that men are entirely selfish in all that concerns women. I have seen cases in which no selfish motive could be discerned in the beginning, in the course, or in the end of such matters; and, being a good deal older than you are, I have had more means of judging."

"Why, how old are you?" she asked abruptly.

"Seven-and-twenty," I answered.

"I thought so!" she cried, with a joyous laugh; "but you look a good deal older."

"Indeed!" I answered, perhaps a little mortified; "but what makes you seem to rejoice that I am seven-and-twenty only?"

"Excuse me," she replied, dropping a low curtsy. "I might say, because that makes you just a fit age for myself, or a hundred other civil things. But I would rather say nothing, Sir Richard."

"Sir Richard!" I exclaimed. "How came you to give me that name, Miss Davenport?"

"Because you are just seven-and-twenty; and because there is 'Richard Conway' printed in white letters upon the black trunks you left at Norfolk," she replied, with an air of funny malice, adding, "at least so your servant told the cook, and the cook told my maid, and my maid told me, dear cousin; and so there's my 'how.'"

"Good heaven, this babbling is very provoking!" I exclaimed, greatly annoyed; "it may spoil all our plans."

"No fear," she answered; "we are so surrounded by woods and wilds that the secret will keep till next Sunday at least; for the negroes will not see those of any other plantation till then."

"And you will tell no one?" I inquired.

"Honour!" she replied, in a tone of mock solemnity.

"If you do," I said, laughing. "I will tell your uncle, whom I see coming up there, that you and I have been standing this quarter of an hour at the edge of the porch, talking of love all the time."

"Love!" she cried, "what is that? I declare such an antediluvian monster has never been once mentioned between us till you brought it this minute out of the blue mud of your own imagination."

"A very savoury figure," I answered. "But as to love, if we have not been talking about it, notwithstanding all circumlocutions, we have been thinking about it."

"Not a bit," she replied. "We have been talking, and thinking too, of the most opposite things--of the very antipodes of love. Courtship and marriage, if you like; but what has love to do with them, cousin?" And she fixed her full dark eyes upon my face, with a look of the most perfect simplicity--assumed, of course, but very well put on. I felt somewhat revengeful, and I almost longed to try if I could not make the boasting little beauty know something of the power she scoffed at. But just then Mr. Thornton came up, and began jesting with his fair relation upon her morning reveries beside the stream.

"I saw you, Bessy," he said; "and if I had met with Mr. Howard, I should have sent him down to try if he could not break up your visions."

"I dare say he would have succeeded," she answered; "for he has been amusing me here with some of the driest subjects in the world."

"Of what kind, little hypocrite?" asked Mr. Thornton.

"Arithmetic--arithmetic," she replied gaily. "As, for example, how many ganders' heads are required to make one goose's. But, here comes Mr. Hubbard slowly down stairs; and there is Mr. Alsiger's back at the end of the passage; so I had better go in to get breakfast ready, for Lou won't be down this hour." And away she ran, casting her parasol into a cane seat in the hall. Mr. Thornton paused, and fell into a reverie for a moment or two, which he concluded by saying, as if to himself,--

"The poets are wrong." I knew not what he meant, of course; and whether those few words directed his and my thoughts, or not, I cannot tell; but at breakfast we got into a discussion of poets and poetry.

"It is wonderful," Mr. Thornton observed, after a few other remarks upon the subject, "that with all the superabundant energies which this country possesses, and all the imagination which she expends upon other themes, we have, as yet, produced no very remarkable poet." I ventured to say that I did not think it wonderful; and, of course, there was a call for my reasons.

"In the first place," I replied, "the energies of the people have other objects, and those principally material. In the next place, the imaginative faculty finds other occupation."

"How so, how so?" asked Mr. Hubbard.

"In orations, speeches, declamations," I answered, and then continued, with a smile, "perhaps I might add, in finding causes for offence in the acts of other nations; and without offence, let me say, Mr. Alsiger, in religious exercises which perhaps touch the fancy rather than inform the heart."

"Too true, too true!" said the good clergyman, with a sigh.

"Then again," I continued, "poetry is generally the offspring of leisure. Now, there is--at least it seems so to me--no such thing as leisure in America, and----"

"Excuse me," interrupted Mr. Thornton, laughing; "we have plenty of leisure in Virginia, if we did but know what to do with it. But you were going to add something."

"I was merely going to remark, as a matter of history, that poetry rarely flourishes in republics. Monarchies are its congenial soil. It is a flower that requires a hot-house."

"Oh, heresy, heresy!" cried Bessy Davenport. "What! can such noble and inspiring things as freedom and independence have no power to awaken great thoughts, or even to clothe them in immortal verse?"

"Your pardon, fair lady," I answered; "but you are assuming the premises. Freedom and independence, I would contend, can exist as well--nay, better--in a well-ordered monarchy than in any republic. The tyranny of a number--or of a majority, if you please,--is always more terrible than the tyranny of an individual--the tyranny of public opinion, more potent than the rule of a monarch, and more likely to be wrong. But all that is beside the question. I merely spoke of an historical fact. With an exception here and there, you find no very remarkable poets under republics: many under monarchs."

"I have never considered the facts," said Mr. Hubbard; "but let us test it, my dear sir; and to begin with the beginning, there is Homer. It is very true he lived under a whole host of kings, if there is any faith at all to be placed in the tales regarding him; but what say you to the whole batch of Athenian poets?"

"That they lived under archons, which were tantamount to kings," I answered. "And then, again, Pindar; he could not even endure the sort of mitigated republicanism of Greece, but fled to the court of a tyrant. Virgil, Horace--every great Roman poet, in short--flourished about the time of the emperors. In England, Gower, Chaucer, Shakespeare, all lived, and wrote, under monarchs; and it has even seemed to me that the greater the despotism, the better the poet."

"But Milton! Milton!" cried Mr. Alsiger; "he was a republican in heart and spirit."

"But he never wrote a line of poetry," I answered, "under the Long Parliament, or at least very few. Not much did he write under the tyranny of Cromwell; and all his best compositions date from the reign of one or the other of the Charleses."

"But Dante," said Mr. Thornton; "I cannot indeed, discuss his merits with you; for I have well nigh forgotten all the Italian I knew thirty years ago. He, however, lived under a republic."

"He is an exception," I replied; "although I can hardly look upon the constitution of Florence, at that time, as a republican form of government. It was rather oligarchical; and even then, shadows of an emperor and a pope overhung it. But Ariosto, Tasso, Boccaccio, and all the rest of the Italian poets were the mere creatures of courts. The same is the case with France, although she never had but two poets; and the same with Germany."

"May it not be," asked Mr. Hubbard, "that monarchies, up to the present day, have been much more frequent than republics?"

"Perhaps so," I answered; "yet it is very strange that we find no poet of mark actually springing from a pure republic. Where is the Swiss poet? although every accessory of country, history, climate, and natural phenomena seems to render the very air redolent of poetry." Bessy Davenport sprang up from the table, shaking her head at me, with a laugh, and saying,--

"I abominate your theory. You are worse than an abolitionist; and if you preach such doctrines here, we will have you tried for high treason." As soon as she was gone, and Mr. Alsiger had trotted home on his pony, which was brought up shortly afterwards, Mr. Hubbard, Mr. Thornton, and myself fell into secret conclave, and debated what was next to be done.

"I think," said my host, "the best thing we can do, before the day becomes too hot, will be to ride over to Beavors, take a look at the plantation, see the house, which is vacant just now, and, after having got some dinner at the little village hard by, return in the evening by my worthy and respected cousin's house, just to let him know that we have an eye upon his motions. I dare say some of the girls will accompany us on horseback; and their presence will make our visitation of the old place less formal and less business-like. There are two or three things worth seeing by the way; and we may as well spend the day after this fashion as any other."

"You will find no dinner there that you can eat," said Mr. Hubbard.

"Leave that to me--leave that to me," returned Mr. Thornton, with a nod of his head. "I will cater for you; and if you do not like so long a ride, you can come in the carriage."

"Perhaps that will be better," said Mr. Hubbard; "and, I suppose, it would be as well to have me with you, in case of your needing legal advice." Thus was it soon settled; and while Mr. Thornton went to order horses and carriages, and a great many things besides, I mounted to my own room to make some change in my dress, and to give my good friend Zed a hearty scolding for babbling about my affairs in a strange house. I might as well have left it alone; for though he promised and vowed all manner of things, and assured me, with many a grin, that he had not an idea he was doing any harm in what he had said, I have since found that the propensity to gossip is too strong in the negro composition to be curbed by any reasoning or by any fear. Indeed, I am inclined to believe it is part and parcel of the original sin; for certainly, if Eve had not got gossiping with the serpent, she would not have made such a fool of herself as she did.

[CHAPTER VII.]

When I came down from my room, I found Miss Thornton and Miss Davenport already in riding costume, Mr. Byles preparing to accompany us, and Mrs. Thornton and Mr. Hubbard settling that they would drive over in the carriage, tête-à-tête; while before the door were a number of horses of various descriptions, some bearing ladies' saddles, and some equipped for men. Behind the train was a good large, roomy vehicle, of a very comfortable but old-fashioned form, into which sundry servants of various hues were placing those baskets and packages by the agency of which, I doubted not, Mr. Thornton intended to insure a comfortable dinner wherever we might stop. Having seated the ladies, the gentlemen were soon in the saddle; and away we went at full speed, as if there had been a fox before us, across the little bridge, and up the road towards the highway. As long as we had anything like green herbs beneath our feet, this was all very well; but when we came upon the public road, the dust soon compelled us to slacken our pace and proceed more leisurely. The party fell speedily into what I suppose was its natural arrangement: Mr. Byles riding beside Miss Thornton; I accompanying her fair cousin; and Mr. Thornton himself falling behind to give some directions to his eldest boy, who accompanied us on a beautiful dark chestnut pony--which, by the way, had an awkward habit of throwing out her hoofs at anything which might come behind her, and was consequently quite as well in the rear. Miss Davenport, as we went, was as gay as a lark; and, in the spirit of light badinage with which she had begun the day, contrived to tease me very heartily all the way that we went. I found that she was exceedingly well read, especially in modern history, and she managed to twist and turn a great many of the acts and deeds of Old England in such a manner as more than once to put me on the defensive somewhat warmly; and then she would laugh till her eyes almost ran over, and declare that Englishmen never could bear to hear a word said against their country. Positively, I was not certain, in the end, whether I did not hate her mortally. On the whole, however, I was not sorry to hear what Americans really thought of many of our doings; and I doubted not in the least that Miss Davenport's views were but the reflex of those most generally entertained. In them there was much of prejudice undoubtedly; many of her facts were wrong; many of the inferences unjust; and, almost always, the motives were, I may say, ridiculously distorted. Purposes and objects which never entered into the head of any one Briton from the Land's End to John O'Groat's House, were ascribed to the whole nation as coolly and positively as if they were demonstrated certainties. Still, her free-spoken comments gave me an insight into the feelings with which a great part of the American people regard my countrymen, and which is politely concealed from us in ordinary society. The scenery through which we passed was rather flat and monotonous, and the forest in general shut out all distant prospects. Nothing of any very great interest struck me by the way, except, indeed, the profusion and beautiful variety of the wild flowers, still in bloom, and the occasional gush of some delicious odour from the woods as we rode along. Birds of gorgeous plumage, too, were flitting amongst the trees; but, oh! how I longed for the delightful spring sounds of England--the voice of the thrush, the blackbird, and the lark. I would have given all the gay feathers of the birds in sight for even one song of the robin. There was a bird, indeed, which did, now and then, utter one or two solitary notes, as if he would fain have sung if he had known how; and Miss Davenport praised his voice as if he had been a nightingale.

"You do not call that singing?" I said; and when I tried to give her some idea of the music of our woods, she declared it was all prejudice, and that I was determined not to like anything in America. I had an account to settle with her, however, and I resolved not to lose any opportunity. Shortly after, a small bird of rather graceful form flew from one branch of a tree to another, mewing like a cat as it went, and I quietly asked her if that was a singing bird also.

"Pshaw!" she cried; and, touched for once, struck her horse with the whip, and dashed on towards a gate, at which the two who had preceded us had already arrived.

"Soberly, soberly, Bessy!" ejaculated Mr. Thornton from behind. "Don't set off like a mad thing."

"As soberly as I can," replied Miss Davenport, laughing; "but this man provokes me--he is so intensely English."

"Thank God!" I ejaculated as I passed on.

"For what?" asked the gay girl, half laughing, half pouting.

"First for being intensely English," I replied; "and, secondly, for having provoked you. It was exactly what I wished; for, to say the truth, Miss Davenport, I thought it was high time I should have my turn."

"Then I shall sulk," she said. And not a word more did she speak till, passing barns and stables, and sundry other outbuildings, the uses and purposes of which I cannot pretend to describe, we arrived at the door of a large, square, red brick house, much like, in some respects, that of Mr. Thornton himself. Before the bell could be rung, a neat-looking black woman appeared, and told us that the family (that is to say, the family who had hired the plantation) were in Richmond; but upon our object being explained, she very civilly told us to come in, and that we were quite welcome to look over the house and premises as much as ever we pleased.

"I shall stay here with Hal, and wait until the carriage comes up," said Mr. Thornton; "but you can go in and look around. Show him the portraits in the dining-room, Bessy." Miss Davenport made no answer; but Louisa Thornton and her swain had already entered; and while she followed them, I followed her, almost mechanically. Mr. Byles man[oe]uvred like a general, and contrived to lead his fair companion exactly in the opposite direction to that in which we were going; but Miss Davenport, in obedience to her uncle's commands, took her way at once to the dining-room, which we entered by the third door on the left. She said nothing, but looked quite grave, while I opened the closed shutters, and let in the daylight. It seemed to me that she was carrying on her sulky humour seriously; and, returning from the window, I held out my hand to her, saying--

"Let us make peace." She started; but gave me her hand, answering,--

"You are mistaken, cousin, I think. You cannot suppose that I am so silly as to turn jest into earnest--at least I hope not. But I cannot be gay here. This place is full of memories to me. In it all the earlier part of my life was spent, under the care of that dear and wise old lady." And she pointed with her hand to one of two pictures which hung over the large mantelpiece.

"They are very happy memories, it is true," she continued; "yet, my dear cousin, it strikes me that memory has the effect of moonlight, softening the harsher things of life, and saddening the brighter." The heart of Bessy Davenport was speaking now. I had got the key, and I never lost it again.

"It is very true," I answered gravely. "My own early years were very happy ones. I love the spots where they passed; I like to dwell upon their memories, but it is with a sort of mournful pleasure. Man, with his eager aspirations for new things, never loves to lose aught of that which he has once possessed; and often, when I sit by the fireside with my sister, in the old hall, she and I fall into reveries, longing both of us, I know, to give back tangible life and human energy to those who once sat there with us, and substance and reality to the spectres of remembrance. But, indeed, I knew not that this had been your early home; otherwise I do not think I should have let you come here with us."

"Oh, yes," she answered; "I am very fond of spending long hours here. My mother died when I was four years old; my father died before her. There was some dispute about my property; my cousin Robert tried hard to cheat me out of everything; and this was judged the best home for me during my early youth. A happier home it could not have been; for dear Aunt Bab would never send me to school, but taught me almost everything herself that she could teach, and said she was determined to make an English lady of me. You know that is impossible," she added, with one of her light smiles; "the rebel blood is too strong in me for that."

"And who is that gentleman?" I asked, pointing to the other picture which hung over the mantel, and which represented a fine-looking old man in a blue uniform.

"Oh, that is Colonel Thornton," she replied. "They are both fine pictures; the one by Copley, the other by Stuart. But there is a third you should look at, by some English artist, I do not know whom." And she turned towards the opposite wall. There, to my surprise, I beheld a perfect and masterly copy of the portrait of my own father which hangs up in our hall. As I gazed at it, I just caught Miss Davenport's eyes turning from the picture to my own face; and the next moment she said, "Should I have needed anything but that picture, Sir Richard, to tell me who you really are?" I felt something rising in my eyes, as I gazed here, in a foreign land, at the features which I had so often stood to contemplate in my own home, and remembered that picture was a pledge of early affection between brother and sister which had existed unbroken to the end of life. I quietly drew Miss Davenport's arm through my own and turned away out of the room. She said nothing for some minutes, but seemed unconsciously to take her way up the stairs where we could hear the voices of Miss Thornton and Mr. Byles, apparently in very gay conversation. At the first landing she stopped, however, saying, "And so you have a sister? I am very glad of it. Having a sister humanizes a man, and gives him something to think about besides himself."

"I have, indeed, a very dear and very beautiful sister," I replied. "But do you not think, Miss Davenport, that having a wife might humanize a man as well as having a sister?"

"Ah!" she cried, looking up with one of her gay smiles again, "are you a married man, then, Sir Richard?"

"No," I answered, "I am not so happy. But pray answer my question?"

"And is your sister married?" she asked.

"No, indeed," I replied; "but she is six years younger than I am. And now answer my question, as I have answered yours."

"No, no," she responded, "not now. My answer would have to be a saucy one, and I cannot make such here."

"Well, then, perhaps, I may ask it somewhere else," I said, laughing. What force she attributed to my words I knew not, but she quietly slipped her arm out of mine, and ran up the other flight of steps. As we reached the top, we heard, through the window, at the end of the long corridor which we had now reached, the sound of carriage-wheels below, and, looking out, we saw Mr. Hubbard handing Mrs. Thornton from the carriage, while Mr. Thornton was giving various directions to the servants.

"I fear my aunt will make herself ill with this jaunt," said Miss Davenport, evidently a little desirous of changing the conversation. "She is in very delicate health. Does it not strike you, Sir Richard, that American ladies are very weakly creatures, compared with Englishwomen? I must make an exception in my own favour; for Aunt Bab used to make me walk five or six miles a day, or ride, or skip, or take one sort of violent exercise or another during half of my time. In everything else I was quite a spoiled child; but in this she was inexorable, and I am reaping the benefit of it now."

"I have, indeed, remarked," I said, "that the ladies of this country are not so strong as those of Europe; but I cannot help thinking that the climate is more enervating."

"Not a bit of it," she cried; "that is one of your prejudices again, I am sure. We get feeble and delicate because we take no exercise, and live altogether in a sort of artificial manner. It is worse in the South than in the North a great deal, because here, with the multitude of servants we have, a southern girl hardly learns the use of her feet or her hands. The only time for exercising the first is at a ball, and the second when she plays on the piano. She gets up in the morning, and sits down in an armchair, and says, 'Julia, bring me my slippers; Susannah, comb my hair;' and so the whole day goes on. Climate has nothing to do with it. It is want of free air and proper exercise; bad hours, and all that sort of thing. We are up here, uncle," she continued speaking to Mr. Thornton, who was calling to know where we were; and in a moment after, the whole party were reassembled. We then walked over the house, visited the stables and outbuildings, and made a tour through the negro cabins, which lay at a little distance behind. The condition, mode of life, and treatment of the negro population in the country, were of course subjects of great interest to me, and as these were the first rural slaves I had seen, I asked a good many questions, in which Mr. Thornton aided and joined me. All the people seemed happy and contented--at least there was nothing to show the contrary; yet, in one or two cases--amongst some of the younger men especially--I imagined I perceived a sort of reserve--a holding back of their thoughts, as if they were either unwilling or afraid to speak out boldly. I called Mr. Thornton's attention to this fact, as we turned back towards the house; and he replied,--

"It is very possible that such is the case, especially here. The family who have hired the plantation are not Virginians, as I hardly need tell you; for such a thing as a gentleman hiring another plantation in Virginia is hardly known. Mr. Stringer is a northern man, who has bought some property near, which he is getting into order, and on which he is building a house in the modern style. He has not been long enough in the South to understand our ways; and they say his negroes are treated rather hardly, as is frequently the case with northern men, when they first come here. The general prejudice is, that they make the harshest masters; but I believe the cause of their exacting too much is, that they do not understand the character of the negro, nor his capabilities; that they expect from him more than he can perform either physically or intellectually. Indeed, how can they understand all the peculiarities of these poor people as well as we can, who have been brought up amongst them--played with them in our childhood, and grown with them from youth to manhood? The best way for you to form an accurate judgment on these subjects will be, to set out in the morning early, and take a walk alone through my plantation, or any of those in the neighbourhood: talk with the people in the fields or in the cottages; tell them you are an Englishman, and want to know something about them. No man amongst us has anything to conceal, I believe, Mr. Howard; and perhaps you may satisfy yourself that a great deal of unjust prejudice has been excited in regard to the condition of the negroes."

"But still I cannot help thinking this slavery is a very great evil, Mr. Thornton," I replied.

"Perhaps so," he said, thoughtfully; "yet it is one which exists. It is not of our making; and I can see no escape from it either with benefit to the poor people themselves, safety to the state, or justice to the master. I could discuss this question a long while with you, and may do so some day. In the meantime, examine and judge for yourself; and we can then talk of it more fairly. But it is a subject, depend upon it, which has many aspects; and no man who has not examined it under all, is competent to reason upon it. Abstract propositions have very little bearing upon complicated facts." I knew there was a great deal of truth in what he said. Such an institution (if it deserves that name), when it has lasted several centuries, and, in fact, grown with the growth and strengthened with the strength of a state, must have carried its roots very deep--too deep, indeed, for any wise man to attempt to eradicate it without great precaution. The case of the serfs in Europe, in ancient times, was very different. There was no outward mark of distinction upon them: they were of the same races, the same classes of intellect, the same capabilities, the same characteristics--as their lords. It was there, class-servage; here, it is race-servage; and the distinction is a very important one. Nevertheless, I was not convinced that such a thing as slavery should exist anywhere, or in any circumstances. But to deal fairly with the question, I resolved to do what Mr. Thornton suggested: to examine accurately; and I doubted not that I should have as good an opportunity of doing so as any Englishman ever had--perhaps better. As we walked on towards the house, I perceived that the eyes of my host and Mr. Hubbard were frequently turned towards the sky, especially about the south-west, and I saw, in that direction, two or three lines of leaden-looking clouds coming up over the trees.

"It is going to rain, my dear," said Mrs. Thornton; "had we not better have the carriage up, and get home?"

"If a storm be coming, it would catch you long ere you could get there," replied her husband. "There is a drop or two already, upon my word. Well, 'let it come down,' as Banquo's murderer says. We can but dine here, while it goes on. It will be but a thunder-burst. Here, Harry, run and tell Dick and Jupiter to bring all the things out of the carriage, into the dining-room. We will take the house by storm; and, in the first place, I will go and summon good old Aunt Jenny to surrender at discretion. Doubtless, as the garrison is but small, she will make no great resistance." Thus saying, he ran into the house. All the rest followed, and we found Mr. Thornton and a stout elderly mulatto cook or housekeeper, in the dining-room, fully agreed upon terms, and, by their united strength, pulling out the dining-tables to a sufficient length to accommodate the number of our party. To my surprise, the good yellow woman, after courtesying respectfully to Mrs. Thornton, kissed Bessy Davenport warmly; and, may I confess it?--there was something in the universal love which she seemed to inspire wherever she came, which gave me a little inclination to fall in love with her too, notwithstanding the state of semi-warfare wherewith our acquaintance had commenced.

[CHAPTER VIII.]

Everything except poetry is pleasant when improvised; and our dinner that day was an example. In less than a quarter of an hour we had on the table excellent cold ham and roast fowls, eggs in a variety of forms, and several bottles of good wine. Fried chickens followed; and though the rain now poured down in torrents such as I have never seen elsewhere,--no, not in the far East; though the thunder roared and the lightning blazed, some times in three or four streaks at once, we were as gay a party as ever gathered round a social board. Bessy Davenport had recovered her spirits; Louisa Thornton seemed resolved to laugh the thunder down; Mr. Hubbard was full of quaint humour, and only now and then expressed a hope that "it would not end in a drizzle," as he must positively be at home before dark; and even Mrs. Thornton, though she now and then put her hands before her eyes, when the lightning was very vivid, congratulated herself at having a house over her head during the storm, and evidently felt the sort of comfort which is most forcibly brought home to us when we distinctly see the perils or discomforts from which we are sheltered for the time. Gradually the thunder abated; its roaring voice grew fainter, and followed not so close upon the blaze; but the rain still pattered down, making a sort of rushing sound upon the gravel before the house, when, suddenly, young Harry Thornton started up, exclaiming,--

"Hark! They are bringing up the carriage, I think."

"Nonsense!" said Mr. Thornton, keeping his seat. "That cannot be, my son." But by this time both Harry and bold Billy Byles were at the windows; and the next instant the latter exclaimed, thrown out of all softer sayings by his surprise,--

"By jingo! here is Mr. Stringer and all his family, with two carriages, eight horses, and an ox team. I should not wonder if there was a freshet down at the bridge." Mr. Thornton did look a little abashed at being caught revelling in another man's house during his absence, and that a northern man too; but he recovered himself in a moment, saying--"Keep your seats, ladies and gentlemen, keep your seats. I will warrant your welcome, and we have not yet begun our strawberries and cream." His exhortations were vain, however, upon the greater part those present; and finding that he could not restore order to the feast, Mr. Thornton rose with the rest; but, instead of going to witness the debarkation of Mr. Stringer's family from the window, he sought an umbrella and went down the steps to hand Mrs. Stringer out of the carriage. What passed between him and the master of the house I did not hear; but I saw the latter laugh and shake him by the hand; and, a moment after, he re-entered the dining-room, having on his arm a lady about three-and-thirty years of age, who looked scared and somewhat aghast, but, I think, rather from the effects of storm through which she had passed than from the scene presented by her own dining-room, for the sight of which she had probably been prepared as she came from the carriage to the house. Three young boys, from seven to ten years of age, followed close upon their mother's steps; and at last, after a short pause, appeared Mr. Stringer, in whom, now without his hat, I instantly recognized a gentleman whom I had met at dinner in New York.

"Farewell to my incognito!" I thought; but Mr. Stringer's first attention was paid to Mrs. Thornton, and then to Miss Davenport, who seemed an especial favourite both with himself and his wife; and I had time to remark, ere he noticed me, a singular-looking man by whom Mr. Stringer was followed. He could not have measured less than six feet two inches in height, while, from shoulder to shoulder, I do not think the extent was more than a foot. His whole frame was about an equal width; only his legs, pack them together how you would, must still have remained more bulky than his body. His arms were thin, and his hands long and bony; but his face, though exceedingly ugly, and not improved by the ill-cut, long sandy hair which thatched his head, or the rawish white skin that covered it, was highly intelligent, with a quick, eager, grey eye, which ran over every thing and every person in the room in a moment. The dress of this apparition was of no particular date, and had nothing very remarkable in form. I only remarked that it was all of black, not very new, and that the white cravat rolled round his neck and tied in a bow, with two little ends like a young pig's ears, might have been whiter and, perhaps, cleaner. While I was making my mental observations upon this gentleman, who still stood near the door without saying a word to any one, Mr. Stringer's eyes turned upon me, and the expected explosion took place.

"Why, Sir Richard Conway!" he exclaimed, "this is an unexpected pleasure. Nevertheless, welcome to Virginia, and especially to my house. My dear, allow me to introduce Sir Richard Conway." While my introduction to Mrs. Stringer was taking place, I know not what bursts of surprise and wonder were going on amongst the rest of the party. All I do know is, that Bessy Davenport was laughing heartily, and feeling, I fancy, a little conceited at being the only one who had discovered my secret. Mrs. Stringer was peculiarly civil and condescending; and I do believe, if I had been a real live lord,--a thing less frequently found in this country than mammoths and mastodons,--she could not have been more gratified to find me in her house. In the meantime, the rain continued to pour down without showing the slightest disposition to restrain itself; and the party from the carriage gave us a fearful account of the ravages committed by the freshet, which had carried away the bridge, as Mr. Byles had suspected. The wine on the table, the strawberries and cream, and the remnants of the dinner of which we had partaken, however, proved a very serviceable refreshment to Mr. Stringer and his battered party; so that our intrusion was rather a benefit than otherwise to the worthy gentleman, whose letter, announcing his proximate arrival, had, it seemed,--with a facility for getting lost nowhere more common to letters than in Virginia,--tarried by the way till its writer got the start of it. Mrs. Stringer indeed was a little fidgety about well-aired beds and sundry household arrangements; nevertheless, we all made ourselves very comfortable for the next hour, while waiting for the rain to pass away. As, however, it remained obdurate, Mr. Thornton rose to depart; and then commenced, on the part of our host, very pressing entreaties that we would all remain the night; and an exceedingly well-devised plan for accommodating so large a party, was explained to us by Mrs. Stringer on the spur of the moment. Mr. Thornton, however, declared he was obliged to return home; his wife was equally resolute, as well as all those who had come in the carriage; whilst those who had travelled on horseback declared to a man they did not mind a little rain. Our host and hostess were particularly pressing that at least Miss Davenport and myself would stay; and Mrs. Stringer reminded Bessy that she had extracted a promise of a long visit from her. Bessy, however, was determined to go; and go we did, in as unpleasant an afternoon as ever I remember. It was the will of God, however, that we should not go far. As to galloping, that was out of the question; for the rain had sunk into the earth, and the horses' hoofs were buried in mud at every step. Mrs. Thornton insisted upon taking her daughter into the carriage, and leaving the horse to be led by one of the negro boys. Billy Byles, deprived of his companion, set off across the country as fast as the state of the fields would permit. Mr. Thornton and his son affectionately hung about the coach, which was in danger of being overturned more than once; and, at length, the former suggested to his niece, that she and I should ride on, by a narrow road (which he designated, and with which she seemed well acquainted), both in order to get out of the rain as soon as possible, and to send some oxen from the plantation, to drag the carriage through the ford. Away we went, then, laughing and jesting; for all Bessy's light spirits had returned, and the rain seemed only to have brought them into flower; but the road was abominably bad, and our progress necessarily slow. The way lay principally through the woods, and every here and there we came upon a drier spot where we could have a canter; till, at length, I perceived, by my old topographic habits, that we must be approaching a little river or stream, which we had passed in the morning. Suddenly we came upon it; but Bessy pulled up her horse for a moment; and certainly the scene before us was not of a character to invite further advance. The banks were very steep, and the descent of the road to the edge of the water nearly precipitous. Beyond flowed the stream which a few hours previously had rolled on clear enough, but with hardly sufficient water in it to cover a horse's fetlocks. Now it rushed along between its deep banks, a turbid, rapid torrent. It must have risen five or six feet during those few hours; and although the surface was still tolerably smooth, owing to the want of rocks or other obstructions of that kind, every here and there was a whirling eddy,--a dimple, as it were, in the face of the stream, which showed with what force and rapidity it was going.

"This is not agreeable," said Bessy Davenport; "the river seems resolved to bar our way; but let us try, at all events." And she began to descend towards the brink.

"It is madness to attempt it," I exclaimed: "no horse can swim that current, Miss Davenport. For heaven's sake, stop." But Bessy could no longer stop. The ground was of a reddish clay, now thoroughly soaked with the rain; the descent some thirty feet, and, as I have said, precipitous; and though, when she tried to check him, her poor pony made an attempt to resist the impetus his first start had given him, by throwing himself on his haunches, his feet slipped in the mire; and down he slid with increasing rapidity to the very brink of the water. There he made one more violent effort to stop himself; but it was worse than in vain. A part of the bank gave way under him; and over he rolled with his mistress into the river. There are times when all thought abandons us, and when instinct--a much surer guide--comes to our aid. But instinct has no memories; and I only know what I did by the result. I must have sprung from my horse, dashed down the steep and slippery bank, and plunged into the water, before I was aware of what I was doing. It was the work of a moment. Still I had nearly been too late, and should have been so, but for one slight accident. The stream had risen so high that the branches of the trees and shrubs in many places now dipped in the water; and one of them, catching Bessy Davenport's riding-habit, kept her for an instant or two from being swept down the stream. That brief interruption was long enough, however; for the moment I got my eyes above the water, I saw something wavering about near the bank, looking more like a mass of water-weed than a human being. I struck at once towards the object, not doubting what it was; and I remember, at the same moment, hearing a wild, shrill neigh, as her horse raised his head above the current, and was swept past us. I am a very strong swimmer; the tide aided; and in three strokes I was by the poor girl's side. The moment after, her head and shoulders were raised on my left arm; and, though at first she made an effort to grasp me with her hands, yet, with admirable self-command, she desisted as soon as I spoke; and I contrived to draw her to the bank and catch hold of some of the shrubs. The next three or four minutes--for really I know not how long it was--proved more terrible than all that went before. They were only like the struggles of some hideous dream. The tree I grasped gave way under our weight, and rolled into the stream; but I caught another as we were falling back,--along, stiff, snake-like vine-stem (they grow here wild to the most enormous size), and it held firm. But the steep and slippery bank afforded no footing, and back I slipped every time I attempted to ascend. I was nearly in despair; but despair sometimes lends energy and suggests means. The only way was to use the vine-stem as a sort of cable, and to pull myself up by it; but the difficulty was to do so with one hand; for my left arm bore a burden I would not have parted from but with life. However, I dug my feet into the bank; and though, this time, I got sufficient hold to support me, I knew that if I relaxed my grasp for an instant, she and I must both fall back into the river. I almost fancied at one time, indeed, it would be best to try the river again, and see if I could not support her to some easier landing-place; but before I did so, I turned and looked at her. Her eyes were open and fixed upon my face.

"Can you hold the vine for a moment?" I said; "for a single moment, till I run my hand further up?"

"I will try," she answered, and grasped the stem with both her hands. By a violent effort, I reached over, and caught the frail thing that supported us some two or three feet above, without relaxing my hold of Bessy herself, and then drew her up, till her feet were completely above the water.

"Now, if we can reach that old tree," I said, "round which this vine has been twining, you are safe." The greater danger was now indeed past; and what between her efforts and mine,--though every step had its peril, and I feared each instant that the vine-stem would give way under our repeated efforts to ascend,--we at length reached the stump of the old tree, which was still rooted firmly in the ground. There I seated her, with her back against the trunk, and felt fully repaid for all my day's work, when I parted the wet hair from her beautiful forehead with my own hands, and twisted it up behind her ears. Bessy said nothing; but held down her head and wept; and I easily understood that there was One to be thanked in silence, even before myself. I gave her time to recover herself a little; but as soon as she began to look up again, I said, in a gay tone,--

"And now, my dear Bessy, I have got to carry you back to Beavors. Thank Heaven, you are very light, and we are not likely to meet many people; for you having lost your hat and I mine, and both having acquired a remarkable portion of mud upon our garments, we are not the most respectable-looking couple that ever journeyed through the world together."

"For heaven's sake, do not jest at present, Richard," she answered. "You men cannot feel these things as we women do. I do not believe I shall ever jest again, when I think of the danger I have brought upon myself, and into which I have drawn you. But where is your horse? Mine, poor fellow, is drowned, of course. Poor Ned! I am very sorry for him; but from the way in which he fell, he must be drowned."

"Very lucky for you he did fall that way, my dear cousin," I replied; "otherwise he would probably have struck you with his hoof, and you would have been killed. Where my horse is, may be another question. I left him at the top of the bank; for you were in such a hurry, my dear girl, that there was no time to tie him up; and I had much ado to catch you, as it was."

"He has gone home, I dare say," replied Bessy; "but perhaps you had better see."

"First, I must carry you up to the road," replied I. But for a time she would not consent, saying she could climb very well. Her riding-habit, however, caught her at every step, and at length she was obliged to let me do as I pleased, till I safely landed her upon the road, within sight of the spot where our unfortunate adventure commenced. There stood the horse, almost precisely where I left him, though in a very different attitude; his head was bent down, his neck and muzzle stretched out almost in a straight line from his shoulders towards the water, and his eyes fixed eagerly upon the current, as, red and turbid, it rushed by. It seemed to me as if, with that strange sort of intelligence which characterizes the dog, the horse, and the elephant, he was waiting for our return, and watching eagerly to see us reappear by the same way we went.

"Now," I said, "we can get back more easily; for I dare say, with your country education, you can contrive to ride upon a somewhat unusual saddle, and I will walk by your side to prevent your slipping off."

"I could ride him without any saddle at all," said Bessy, with a smile. The horse was soon caught, and she placed upon his back. The clouds were now beginning to break; patches of blue were visible here and there, and the rain had almost ceased. I could have wished, indeed, that it had not turned fine quite so soon,--that it had continued even to drizzle a little; for there was something strangely out of harmony with our draggled and miserable appearance in the bright sunshine which soon burst forth. It seemed to make us look more ridiculous than ever. But it had one good effect; for it brought some of the negroes out into the fields, and we had an opportunity of sending some teams of oxen to assist Mr. Thornton and his party across the ford, and to give him information of all that had occurred to us. We coupled the tale, however, with the assurance that Miss Davenport and myself were quite safe, and that all we wanted were dry clothes to enable us to pass the night comfortably at Beavors. When we reached that place, as misfortune would have it, the whole family of Mr. Stringer, including the tall gaunt man in black, were standing under the porch, gazing forth upon the country refreshed by the shower; and every sort of exclamation of wonder and commiseration burst forth upon us when we presented ourselves, wet, bedabbled with mud, and with total loss of head-gear.

"Why, my pretty young lady," exclaimed Mr. Stringer, unable to refrain from a smile, "I hardly knew you when I first saw you coming in such an awkward condition."

"It is very lucky that you do see me at all," replied Bessy; "for if it hadn't been for my cousin here, who nearly lost his life to save mine, I should have been twenty miles down the Nansemond river by this time."

"Come in, come in, my dear Bessy," said Mrs. Stringer, "and do not stand talking in your wet clothes. You can tell us all about it afterwards." And with motherly care she took her fair young friend away into the house; while Mr. Stringer himself conducted me to a room upstairs, and offered me all the resources of his own wardrobe. As he was about five inches shorter than myself, and at least two inches less in width across the shoulders, the selection was somewhat difficult. I contrived to get into a loose morning gown, however; and, with a happy thought,--unhappily frustrated of effect,--Mr. Stringer sent a servant to ask the loan of a pair of pantaloons from the Reverend Mr. McGrubber, which I found was the name of his lanky friend in black. A moment after, the negro returned, with a grin which showed his white teeth from ear to ear, saying, "Massa McGrubber's compliments, but he can't. Him's only got one pair, and them's on." The laugh which followed, from Mr. Stringer and myself, did me fully as much good as the glass of mulled wine which my worthy host insisted upon my swallowing. As there was no other resource, I determined to go to bed till my own clothes could be dried and cleansed, or till some fresh apparel was brought over from the plantation of Mr. Thornton; and what between a little fatigue, the sultry weather, and the mulled wine, I fell sound asleep soon after Mr. Stringer left me, and began dreaming of Bessy Davenport.

[CHAPTER IX.]

I was awakened out of one of the sweetest dreams in the world--though, unlike most story-tellers, I will not tell you all about it--by some one coming into my room with a light. I never was more astonished in my life. It seemed to me I had not been asleep ten minutes; and yet the sun, who had a full couple of hours' course when I lay down, had now gone to bed too, and all without was darkness. Another testimony to the fact of my long sleep, was the face of my good old friend Zed, who came grinning up with a pair of bags over his arm, and a note from Mr. Thornton; showing that our friends had arrived safely at home, had received our messages, and had sent us over the wherewithal to make ourselves comfortable, or, at all events, cleanly. Mr. Thornton's note treated our adventure more lightly than he probably would have done, had he been aware of the full extent of danger; but he recommended me strongly to accept Mr. Stringer's invitation to stay at his house for a day or two, saying,--

"You will be much nearer the scene of action; and, if I am not mistaken, affairs will be brought to a crisis sooner than we expected by the discovery of your being actually in the country. I will be over with you early to-morrow; and, if possible, will bring Hubbard with me. We can then begin the campaign in real earnest, should it be necessary." Having read this epistle and undergone a number of exclamations mingled with laughter, from Old Zed, I proceeded as rapidly as possible to dress myself, and descended to the parlour, which I found vacant of all but a negro servant, engaged in arranging tables and chairs, which possibly had not been found in apple-pie order by Mrs. Stringer on her return. The man informed me, however, that his master and mistress were dressing for dinner, which, to say sooth, I was not sorry to hear; for though I had eaten one good dinner already, I had somehow contrived in the intervening time to recover an appetite. The first of the party who appeared in the room was the fair companion of my perils, with all traces of the mishaps of the day obliterated from her appearance, though she was perhaps a little paler than usual. She gave me her tiny little hand at once, saying,--

"I am glad to find you alone, Sir Richard; for I really have not had time to thank you; and I fear you must think me very ungrateful."

"I shall indeed think you so," I answered, "if you ever give me such a formal name again. Call me Richard--Cousin Richard--anything of that kind you like; but never use that cold word Sir any more."

"Ay, then you are not such a terrible aristocrat after all," said Bessy, with one of her bright smiles.

"As much as ever," I answered; "though I suspect not half so much as you are at heart. But, without a jest, Bessy, it is impossible for me, after all we have gone through together, to be anything to you but Richard Conway, or you to be anything to me but Bessy Davenport. Sometimes in a life, five minutes are equal to five years; and by such measure must we calculate in the length of our acquaintance an hour or two out of this day. Is it a bargain?"

"Yes, Richard," she answered, giving me her hand again. "I pledge myself to it." I was just putting the seal upon the compact, with my lips upon that little hand, when the door opened, and in stalked the Rev. Mr. McGrubber. There is a sort of man in every part of the world, who is always in the place where he is not wanted. He is to be pitied rather than blamed, I do believe; for I am convinced it is a sort of idiosyncrasy which is even recognizable in his external appearance, just as particular temperaments can be discovered by the complexion. The moment I set eyes upon McGrubber, I could have sworn he would always be in the way; and so he was. I have said "in he stalked;" but it is impossible to describe by any words his peculiar sort of locomotion. It was more like that of a snake standing on its tail, than anything else. His long lean body seemed to go first, and then to drag the legs after it with an effort that was painful to behold. Whether he saw what I was about when he entered, or not, I did not know; and, to tell the truth, did not much care, although I thought I detected that peculiar sort of twinkle in his small grey eyes, which I have perceived in those of curious people, when they fancy they have made some pleasant little discovery. Bessy coloured a little, and seemed somewhat annoyed; so, to break the awkwardness of the whole business, I turned briskly to Mr. McGrubber, saying, "It has become quite a fine evening again, sir."

"I guess it has," replied the worthy minister, sticking his hands into his coat pockets, and spreading the flaps out like a pigeon's tail behind him. "It is warm too. I guess, miss, those bugs that come flying in at the window will knock the candles out, unless somebody does something to stop them."

"Very probably, sir," replied Bessy Davenport. "Suppose you try. You are more accustomed, I believe, to keeping peoples' lights burning than I am."

"Profanely speaking, nay," answered Mr. McGrubber, who, I should explain to you English people, meant by "bugs" all the tribe of moths and flying insects which literally load the evening air in a southern climate; and he was going on to tell us what lights he professed to keep burning; but before he could favour us with more of his conversation, Mr. and Mrs. Stringer appeared, the latter making many apologies for being late. She had found everything in disorder, she said, and had really had a great deal to do. Mr. Stringer for his part exclaimed that they kept up the custom of dining late, even in the country, as he found it much more convenient on all accounts; and Mr. McGrubber, who I found was the tutor of the young Stringers, favoured us with a discourse upon the iniquity 'of late hours, which he seasoned with a good number of texts from Scripture, uttered in a very nasal tone. I cannot say that I was much edified by his remarks, which had a good deal of fanatical impertinence in them; and I wondered how Mr. Stringer could tolerate such an inmate in his family; for he himself, though evidently a weak man, was well bred and well educated, and there was something atrociously presuming both in Mr. McGrubber's manner and in his conversation. It was not that he thought himself as good as anybody else; for that would be very easily tolerated, especially in an American, who, whatever may be his qualities of mind, heart, or position, always looks upon himself as on a par with the best man that ever was born. But that which makes the assumption of perfect equality tolerable, renders the assumption of superiority intolerable; and it was evident that Mr. McGrubber thought himself vastly better than anybody else, and wished every one to understand it. Yet he had not only eloquence of a peculiar sort, but considerable powers of mind, very much misapplied. His reasonings, though full of sophistry, were answered with more trouble than they deserved; for he would twist and turn like an eel. Fanaticism resembles the one book which venders an opponent in argument so dangerous. It is the all-absorbing thought which converts everything around into pabulum for itself. He had read everything upon the two or three subjects with which he cared to deal; he had armed himself with all the weapons of his party, and provided himself with shields and places of retreat against any opponent too strong for him; yet, though he evidently thought conviction defeat, it was not entirely from vanity he strove. Fanaticism on any subject is, I believe, a mixture of passion and self-conceit; and he certainly was not without the former, as after events convinced me. To all these peculiar traits he added an insatiable curiosity, which he had no reserve in trying to gratify. During dinner he asked me at least a hundred impertinent questions about myself, my family, my object in visiting America, my profession, my age, my fortune--some put in the form of guesses, some with most straightforward impudence; and when, in the end, I told him I did not think myself called upon to gratify the unreasonable curiosity of every stranger as to my private affairs, he answered,--

"Waal, I guess you're right in that; but I should think you did not come over here without some particular business, and any citizen of this republic may just ask what that business is." Mr. Stringer and Bessy burst into a laugh, and Mrs. Stringer looked considerably annoyed. Laughter often does more than argument; and Mr. McGrubber was effectually silenced for the remainder of the evening. Indeed, shortly after the dessert was put upon the table, the worthy gentleman, who drank no wine and hated everybody that did, rose unceremoniously, and left the room; nor did he make his appearance again that night. I know few things more pleasant than when, with a feeling of security upon one, after a perilous and eventful day, we sit down with our fellow-adventurers to chat quietly over the various incidents which excited our feelings and stimulated, perhaps, many a passion at the time, but which have now all the calm of memory about them. Nothing could be more tranquil or charming than the two hours which now succeeded. We talked over all that had happened; we recalled not only events, but thoughts and feelings; and brief lapses would often occur in the conversation when (I know not what Bessy Davenport was doing) I was scrutinizing, though not too closely, certain sensations or emotions of my own heart, a little anxious to know what they all meant, yet unwilling to examine them too closely, lest I should stop them in their play. Once I asked myself if I was falling in love with Bessy Davenport--with her whom I did not know the morning before, and of whom I could not have said, that very morning, whether I liked or disliked her. But just then, waking out of a reverie of her own, she suddenly raised her eyes, quiet and thoughtful, but full of light, to my face, and I concluded that my question was a very foolish question indeed, which I would never put to my own heart again, but leave that inscrutable inner man to speak for himself when he thought proper. As our eyes met, a slight colour came up in her cheek, but she rose quietly, saying,--

"Now I will sing you one song, and then I will go to bed, only praying that I may not dream of being drowned all night. What shall it be, Cousin Richard?" I was incapable of deciding, not knowing what she sang; and so, taking a seat at the piano, she chose for herself a little, quiet, simple Italian air, such as the peasants sing in the Abruzzi, which never find their way into operas, but have more real melody in them than half the opera airs in the world. Then, starting up, she wished us all "Good night," and left us. We separated within a few minutes after; for Mr. and Mrs. Stringer were fatigued with their day's expedition, and I gladly went to my room with the intention of meditating over many things. I was disappointed, however; for there was my good friend Zed, ready to pour upon me a whole budget of news, in his somewhat incoherent but voluble way. First and foremost was the account of Mr. Thornton's journey home. How the carriage had stuck in the ford, but had been got out quite safe; how Master Hal had been thrown by his pony into a pool of mud, and come out as red as an "Ingin." Then, what consternation they were all in when the news arrived of the accident which had befallen us; and then, how, just as he was coming away with my clothes, Miss Bessy's horse, with the saddle quite turned round under his belly, had come trotting and neighing up to the house. This last piece of information was very gratifying to me, for I knew Bessy mourned for her good steed; and whatever interested her was beginning to interest me also. It was never discovered, I may remark, how the poor brute got out of the river; but it is supposed he drifted down to a spot some two miles below, where the eastern bank became flat, and, landing there, found his way home. Zed, I found, judged the accident which had brought me back to Beavors a very lucky one, inasmuch as the great camp-meeting he had mentioned was to be held within a mile or two of the house. "Ah! massa," he cried, "such meeting as you hear there you never see. Gorr a mighty! I shouldn't wonder if you were converted yourself."

"What makes you judge, Zed, that I am not converted already?" I asked. The poor fellow grinned, and did not seem to know what to reply, finding himself on the horns of a dilemma. So his only course was to sigh and shake his head, as if he thought me in a very perilous condition of mind. I have remarked, however, that negroes, when they become puzzled with any question, are very dexterous in carrying the conversation off to something else; and so Zed now favoured me with a long catalogue of the preachers who were to hold forth upon this occasion, naming, amongst the rest, Mr. McGrubber, by whom I certainly did not expect to be either converted or very much edified. Two or three other names were mentioned, however, which I had heard spoken of with respect; and I resolved to go, at all events, to witness such a spectacle, at least once in my life, as a camp-meeting must present. Let me use a school-boy phrase and say, I determined to go "for the fun of the thing." I slept very well in the earlier part of the night; but I can never sleep more than a certain time during the twenty-four hours, and, consequently, with the first ray of daylight, my eyes were open. I felt strongly inclined to lie still and meditate; but as I never indulge such things, where the meditation is sure to be fruitless, I rose, dressed myself, and went downstairs. The house was still shut up, and nobody was stirring; but, to my surprise, I found two negroes asleep on the benches in the hall; and I afterwards discovered that it was a very common custom of domestic servants, even where good beds were provided for them, to lie down upon any bench or set of chairs they could find, and sleep out the night there, without covering or pillow. The door of the house, too, was unlocked; and, indeed, very little precaution of any kind seemed taken in this country against intruders. One would think this was an evidence of an innocent and virtuous population, were not the inference contradicted by the long and terrible list of crimes and offences which every newspaper shows each day. For want, then, of any better solution of this enigma of carelessness, I could only set it down to the account of that utter indifference to life and security which is so observable throughout the whole land. Taking up a stick which I saw in the hall, I walked out, very careless as to what course I followed, and proceeded, I dare say, two miles, without seeing a living soul. It was by this time five o'clock, yet nobody was in the fields--a clear proof that the negroes are not so much overworked, in Virginia at least, as has been generally reported. The morning air was fresh and balmy, rather cool than otherwise, with no indications of the heat which was to follow the higher rising of the sun. The whole fields, and especially the edges of the woods, were gemmed with beautiful flowers; and it had a strange and curious effect to see shrubs, and trees, and plants which we in England look upon as rare and delicate, blooming wild and uncultivated all around. Innumerable birds and beasts--ay, and even reptiles--were fluttering, running, or gliding in different directions; and it was clearly an hour at which the presence of man did not warn inferior animals to seek the shelter of the thicket or the brake. I cannot say that the aspect of the country was very picturesque. It was a flat, alluvial plain, through which the rivers and streams had easily worn deep channels, as they poured on towards the sea; and it was only on the banks of these that anything like landscape beauty was to be seen. The one I reached that morning, which was the limit of my walk, much resembled that which had nearly made a supper of Bessy Davenport and me the day before. I know not even now, whether it was the same or not. During the warm night, the water left by the rain had either evaporated into the air or had been sucked up by the light and penetrable soil. Everything had become dry, except where the river, evidently greatly fallen since the preceding evening, wended quietly on its way, no longer hurried by the mass of waters pressed within its narrow banks. By the side of the stream sat a negro, fishing, and as this was the first human being I had seen since I set out, I thought I might as well go down and talk with him. When I came near, I perceived he was one of the finest-formed men I had ever beheld, tall and powerful, with very little of the usual deformity of his race. He had, indeed, the thick lips, the nose flattened,--though not very much,--and the woolly hair of his race; but there was no bowed shins or large hands and feet; yet, as far as I could judge from his colour, he was of unmixed African blood. He did not condescend to lift his head when I came near, but continued his occupation, still gazing upon the glistening but somewhat turbid water.

"Have you had good sport?" asked I.

"I have caught no fish," he answered abruptly; and then turning round for the first time, he looked to see who was the interrogator.

"Is not the water too muddy still?" I inquired, somewhat struck by the man's manner and tone.

"Those who would catch large fish must fish in troubled waters," answered he gravely, casting in his line again. "I shall catch when the appointed time comes. Nothing happens, master, but at its appointed time, whether it be great or small." I confess I was not a little surprised at such a reply from such a man. I had heard of negroes who displayed as great natural powers of mind as men of the white races, but I never yet had met with one. In all whom I had seen there was a certain lack of intellect. Quick comprehension there might be--often rapid combination, cunning seeming to supply the place of reasoning powers; but it was more like the comprehension, the cunning of a child, exercised only upon the objects near at hand, without the power of generalization or remote deduction. In fact, this man's words afforded the first attempt at any thing like a grasp of a wide and comprehensive idea which I had ever met with in his race, and they excited my curiosity greatly.

"I agree perfectly with you," I answered. "I am a full believer in a special Providence; yet it would seem but a small and undignified exercise of that Divine power, to make you catch a fish at one moment more than another."

"What is small, and what is great, to God Almighty?" asked the man, still keeping his eyes on the stream. "He made the emmet as well as the biggest of beasts; he made the grain of sand an well as the mountain. How can you tell, master, how small events may affect great ones? My catching a fish, now or then, may, by giving food and comfort to a family, allay their discontent; and, putting off its outbreak, induce them to go on in quiet, till some further relief comes--in its due season also. Does not the Bible tell us that not a sparrow falls to the ground unnoticed? Everything is by God's will--everything is in God's time. What is small? What is great to Him? In a universe everything has its proper place, every event its proper moment; and the derangement of the least would destroy the order of the whole. My time, too, will come for whatever I have to do; and I am ready to do God's will, whatever it may be." I never was more astonished in my life than by this man's discourse. I had heard Hindoos many a time speak in a somewhat similar way; but they are proverbially a thoughtful, speculative, I may almost say a metaphysical race; but to hear such words from a poor despised negro--from one of a class to whom the higher ranges of thought seem forbidden, as well by capability as by education--was very strange. While he had been speaking he had only turned his face to me once; and when he ceased, I mused for a minute or two, not jumping at a conclusion at once, but asking myself, first, whether he had learned all this from some one else, like a parrot. Rejecting that suspicion speedily, as contradicted by his whole tone and manner, I next considered whether it was likely or unlikely that every faculty of the mind would be equally developed. Grasp of intellect, logical power, he certainly possessed; but a good many (perhaps) subordinate qualities and faculties are requisite to make such gifts available for man's conduct, either towards his fellow man or towards his God. I had nearly come to the conclusion that it was almost certain he must possess them, when suddenly a laugh--the unmeaning, almost idiotic laugh of the negro race--broke from his lips, followed by--

"Ah, master, I've caught you!" And I saw him pulling a large fish towards the shore. It seemed that this was all he wanted. He showed it to me with a sort of child-like triumph; and then, throwing away the pole with which he had been fishing, and rolling up his line, he walked some way by my side, as I took my path homeward. I was anxious to know more of this man, and tried to put him upon some of those tracks which I thought might bring forth the peculiarities of his mind. He seemed a little shy, however, in answering my inquiries, and in following any train of thought which was placed before him. This was natural enough in one of an enslaved race, in whose bosoms there must always be some feeling of wrong and oppression, so long as there is vanity in the human heart. However kindly they may be treated--however incapable they may be of taking care of, directing, and providing for themselves, they will always feel an uncongeniality--a want of sympathy with the dominant race, and shrink into themselves, more or less, when brought into communication with their masters. My companion gave me his name--Nathaniel Turner--and told me where he lived, which was not far distant; but only once was I able to bring from him a spark of that intellectual fire which he had previously displayed, and which, even now, was half smothered by that cunning which is common to savages and children. In stating that I was an Englishman, I alluded to our having emancipated our slaves in the West-India islands, and I could see a sort of eager light break forth from his eyes; but it was quenched the next moment, as if he still entertained some doubts and suspicions.

"Well, master," he said, "I can't tell whether you are right or wrong in freeing the slaves. I suppose you did it because you thought you had no right to make them slaves at first. But if you did think so, there was a great deal more to be done than merely to give them back their liberty. You had taken a great deal more from them than freedom; you had taken from them their country, their home, their habits; and, I think, you were bound either to restore to them all the things of their former state, or to take good care of them, and fit them for the state into which you had brought them. However, I am a poor, foolish man, and know nothing about these things. I have been a slave all my life, and I have had very good masters. I doubt not it will all be brought right in the end; and, perhaps, we niggers are placed in the situation proper for us. At all events, it is God's will, and so we ought to be content. Now, it's possible, this fish, here in my hand, would rather have been some great shark, or some beast, or some bird, or even, perhaps, a man; but God willed it otherwise: if not, he would never have been hanging on my hook. But should the pot say to the hand that fashioned it, 'Why madest thou me so?' I was born of a different colour from you and your friends; and that difference of colour is a great difference in this world. Content is everything, good master; and I am very well content as I am--so long as it is God's will I should be so." The last words were spoken after a pause, and with a good deal of emphasis; and, anxious to know more of his thoughts and feelings, I replied,--

"Ay, but the difficulty is, in the complication of this world's affairs, to discover what is God's will, and what is man's."

"Whatever is, is God's will," he answered; and then added, in a slow tone, "His will will always be revealed in due time. If man cannot see clearly, God will give him eyes; and when his time comes, all must be accomplished. There is no standing against the hand of God; and let no man imagine that His judgment is not right." By this time we had arrived at a spot about a mile from Beavors, and I could perceive, walking along the edge of a wood enclosed with a snake fence, a figure which something within me told me at once was Bessy Davenport, come forth to take her usual morning's walk. She was advancing directly towards us; and, on seeing her, I left my sable companion, and proceeded to join her.

"Why, who have you been talking to?" she asked, as I came up. "It looks like Nat Turner."

"No other," I answered. "Do you know anything of him?"

"Oh, yes," she exclaimed; "he is a very extraordinary man indeed, and lives not far off, at Mr. Travis's, the next plantation. All the negroes look upon him as a sort of prophet, and certainly his powers of mind are so superior to those of slaves in general, that they may well do so. No one knows who taught him to read; and, if asked, he says no one taught him--it came to him of itself. Of course, that is nonsense; but, undoubtedly, he is a very extraordinary man, and his manners and language are far above his race."

"That I clearly perceived," I answered; "yet I could see a good many negro traits--at least I thought so. I should much like to see more of him. What is his general character?"