CHAPTER V.

  It will readily be perceived, by the reader, that Beverley Randolph, theperson to whom the following letter was written, is one of the threesoutherns.

  VICTOR CHEVILLERE TO B. RANDOLPH.

  Baltimore, 18--.

  "DEAR RANDOLPH,

  "Five long years have we lived under the same roof, pursued the same studies, or rather the same studies pursued us;--engaged in the same dissipation, drank of the same sour wine, shed the same vinous tears, discussed the same dinners and suppers, enjoyed the same dances,--stag dances, I mean,--played the same music, belonged to the same society, and, I was going to say, fallen in love with the same nymphs; but that brings me to the subject of this letter. I am in for it! Yes, you may well look surprised! It is a fact! Who is the lady? you ask. I will tell you,--that is, if I can; her name is St. Clair. O! she is the most lovely, modest, weeping, melancholy, blue-eyed, fair-haired, and mysterious little creature you ever beheld. If you could only see her bend that white neck, and rest her head upon that small hand, her eye lost in profound thought, until the lower lid just overflows, and a tear steals gently down that most lovely cheek; and then see her start up stealthily to join again in the conversation, with the most innocent consciousness of guilt imaginable;--but what is it that brings these tears to sadden the heart of one so youthful and so innocent? 'There's the rub,' as Hamlet says. Yourself, Lamar, and I were unanimous, as you perhaps remember, that men generally suffer in proportion to their crimes, even in this world. I here renounce that opinion, with all others founded upon college logic. A half-taught college boy, in the pride of his little learning and stubborn opinions, is little better than an innocent. But, you ought to see this fair sufferer in order fully to appreciate the foregoing opinion. You would see child-like innocence--intelligence--benevolence; in short, all that is good, in her sad but lovely countenance.

  "But to return to college logic; what is it? Conclusions without premises, ends without means; and opinions adopted without any of the previous and inevitable pains and penalties attendant upon the acquirement of human knowledge, or, in other words, without _experience_! I would take one of our old break-of-day club to tell the flavour of a ham, or the difference between a bottle of Bordeaux and Seignette brandy, as soon as any one; but what else did they know? or rather what else did we know? Nothing! not literally nothing, but truly nothing. If I now wanted a judicious opinion upon any subject, I would go to an experienced man! one that had suffered in order to learn; an original thinker for practical ends.

  "You ask me concerning my cousin, Virginia Bell; her with whose miniature, infantile as it was, you fell so desperately in love, and whom, yet unseen, I promised to yourself. She flourishes, Randolph, and is as beautiful as you could desire; she is yet unengaged in heart or hand, so far as I know; but _you_ know, that the little sly, dear, delightful creatures will complete a whole life-time of love affairs, while fathers, and brothers, and guardians, and affianced lords _unloved_, may be looking on none the wiser. And they will look as innocent, and as demure, and as child-like, as my dear beautiful little enigma of the Black Mantle.

  "You say you 'hate Yankees;'--my dear fellow, you forget that you and I would be considered Yankees in London or Paris. The national denomination we have abroad, is 'the nation of Yankees,' or the 'universal Yankee nation.' 'Tis galling to our southern pride, I grant you, that we should be a mere appendage, in the eyes of a foreigner, to a people who are totally dissimilar to us. We must brook it until we can outdo them, in literature at least. They are (say many) retailers of wooden nutmegs--unfair dealers, and a canting, snivelling, hypocritical set; tell me where the country is, where the population is growing dense--where means of living are scarce--land high--trades overstocked--professions run down--and manufactures injured by foreign competition, in which the little arts of trade, and 'tricks upon travellers' do not also flourish. Let the population of your 'old dominion' be once multiplied by wholesome legislation, or rather let the yearly emigrants be induced to stay in the land of their sires, and the same cunning usages will prevail. As to the 'canting and snivelling,' you must allow something for the descendants of the Pilgrims. Besides, tell me, liberal sir, if you have not, in the very bosom of your great valley, as genuine Presbyterians and Roundheads as ever graced the Rump Parliament, or sung a psalm on horseback. And to give the devil his due, these same Presbyterians are no bad citizens of a popular government. But there is the lady of the Black Mantle. Observe that she was born north of the Potomac, yet I would wager any thing that you could not look steadily upon her face for one minute, and curse the Yankees as I have heard you do. I know you will say, therein lies the cause of my sudden conversion to Yankeeism. By no means! I had begun to find out that the Yankees had souls like other people, before I had ever seen her.

  "I approve of your determination to travel, and that even to the south, rather than not to travel at all; but is there not some danger lest a Virginian should become more bigoted, by travelling among a people still more bigoted than himself. I know your disposition; it is to hug up your dear southern prejudices within your own bosom. Lamar and I are becoming liberal, and then we will cast out devils for you. Do not forget that I shall have a mother and cousin there by the time you arrive at the high hills of the Santee. Lamar has taken desperately to a six foot Kentuckian, as fine a specimen as you could wish to see; he is what may be called an American yeoman of the west.

  "Yours truly,

  "VICTOR CHEVILLERE."

  * * * * *

  B. RANDOLPH TO V. CHEVILLERE.

  "Salem, North Carolina, 18--.

  "DEAR CHEVILLERE,

  "Thus far I have flown before the wind--sand, I should have said. At any rate, here I am, in this town of German religionists. Here dwells the first unanimous people I have ever seen. They are Moravians; and every thing is managed by this little community for the common benefit. They have one tavern, one store, one doctor, one tanner, one potter, and so on in every trade or occupation. Besides these, they have a church and a flourishing female seminary. The latter is conducted upon the utilitarian plan--each lady, in turn, has to perform the offices of cook, laundress, and gardener; and, I need hardly say, that it is admirably conducted. After I had visited all these establishments--for every respectable looking stranger is waited upon by some one appointed for that purpose to conduct him thither,--I returned to the large, cool, and comfortable inn, and had scarcely seated myself to enjoy the comforts of nicotiana, when a small billet was handed to me by a handsomely dressed and polite black servant with a glazed hat, which not a little astonished me, you may be sure. I had not a living acquaintance in the whole state that I knew of; except, indeed, old Father Bagby, the master of ceremonies to the little community. It could not be a challenge from some Hans Von Puffenburg of these quiet burghers: so I concluded it must be a billet-doux from some of the beautiful creatures at the seminary on the hill. You can easily imagine, therefore, that I was no long time in tearing it open; when, behold! it was, in good truth, from a lady. Can you guess who? No. Then take the note itself entire.

  "'DEAR SIR,

  "'If, as I believe, you are the same Mr. Randolph who was a room and class-mate of my son Victor Chevillere, in college, I will be very glad to see you. The servant will show you to our little parlour.

  "'M. J. CHEVILLERE.'

  "'I am the luckiest dog alive,' said I
, jumping nearly over the negro's head, 'Is your young mistress here also.'

  "'Yes, masta, she is just leaving school for home, so please you.'

  "'Please me!' said I; 'to be sure it does please me; I never was more pleased in all my life. For I was just about to forswear these eternal pine-barrens and sand-hills, and face to the right-about. So lead the way to your two mistresses.' Whereupon he led the way, hat in hand, to a room in the inn; and there, Chevillere, sat your honoured mother. Commend me to our southern matrons in high-life. Not that I know any thing against your northern ladies, old or young; but there is in our mothers a mild dignity, hospitality, and politeness, which makes every one at home. But I need not describe to you your own. But I will not promise you as much of the little blushing southern brunette, who gracefully arose on your mother's saying, 'Mr. Randolph, my adopted daughter Virginia Bell Chevillere.' I saw in an instant that you had told her of our college bargain, and my falling in love with her miniature. By-the-by, you ought to break that slanderous miniature, or the head of the dauber who perpetrated it. Her beauty never could be delineated on ivory or canvass. Can any one paint the living, breathing soul of a very young and beautiful female? No! and I'll tell you why. If a man had the genius to do so, the very enthusiasm which always attends it would throw him into very unpainter-like raptures at the sight of such a one; and that's the true reason why artists so seldom succeed in delineating young females. A precious piece of logic for you. But to return to the original of the picture; there was a blushing consciousness about the little Bell, as everybody calls her, which was truly charming. Her jet black hair and eyes shone like ebony; her brilliant white teeth and brunette complexion were radiant with blushing smiles at this first reception of her long-promised husband. There was no girlish pouting, or childish affectation, as is too often the case when the parties have been laid off for each other; she was at the same time modest and self-possessed; her fairy figure glided about, as if her little fairy foot scarcely touched the carpet. I tell you these things, because you asked me to do so in all plainness of speech. Your cousin is all that a cousin of my dearest friend should be--lovely, intelligent, and interesting.

  "Your mother intended to wait here for some male friend, who has diverged a day's ride from their route home from the Springs; but she has now determined to leave this place to-morrow. I shall escort them as far as the Chevilleres' proud family seat, Belville. You will, therefore, hear no more complaints of the dreariness of the eternal pine-barrens, or the fever-and-ague appearance of the poor; except, that I will say now, once for all, that the poor of a slave-country are the most miserable and the most wretched of all the human family. The grades of society in this state are even farther apart than in Virginia. Here, there is one immense chasm from the rich to the abject poor. In the valley of Virginia, or in the country where you are, there are regular gradations. The very happiest, most useful, and most industrious class of a well-regulated community, is here wanting. Their place is filled up by negroes; in consequence of which, your aristocrats are more aristocratic, and your poor still poorer. The slaves create an immeasurable distance between these two classes, which can never be brought together until this separating cause be removed. You know I am no _abolitionist_, in the incendiary meaning of the term; yet I cannot deny from you and myself, that they are an incubus upon our prosperity. This we would boldly deny, if a Yankee uttered it in our hearing; but to ourselves, we must e'en confess it. If I am, therefore, an abolitionist, it is not for conscience-sake, but from policy and patriotism.

  "We can never rival those northern people, until we assume the modern tactics in this provincial warfare; that is, throw aside all useless baggage, and concentrate our energies upon a single point at a time. I have done with this theme for the present, and will repair to your friends.

  "Your mother knows nothing of our college-treaty, therefore she little thinks what a masked enemy she has let into the camp. Little Bell smiles, and enjoys our mutual understanding highly. But there lies the mischief; she smiles too innocently, and too calmly, and too openly, and has lost too much of that blushing mood in which she first received me; and I have thought several times that the little arch gipsy was laughing at me. If she had not been your cousin, and my affianced bride for the last five years, I should have taken leave. _You_ know I never could stand to be exhibited; and would prefer being shot, at any time, to being laughed at. I shall watch the little fairy, and see if she is making me her butt; if so, I will see them safe to Belville, and then--you shall hear from me again.

  "You requested me to point out to you any thing in which I should observe that the Carolinas differed from Virginia. I must say then, with the judges, when they are pronouncing sentence, 'however painful may be the duty imposed upon me,' that your country appears more miserable the more deeply I penetrate it. Not that you lack splendid mansions, and magnificent cotton-fields varied with flowers, rich and tropical gardens, the orange and the 'pride of India,' your wild and fragrant swamp-flowers, princely hospitality, accomplished men and women,--not that you lack any of these. But the seeds of decay are sown at the very point where energy--enterprise--national pride--industry--economy--amusements--gayety--and above all, intelligence, should grow, namely, with your yeomanry!

  "I would not, if I could, have your young men and women transformed to spinning-jennies. Heaven forefend! I would have your lowest class of whites elevated to the dignity of intelligent and independent yeomen. How would I effect it? you ask. Apply the grand lever by which all human movement is brought about--hope! Has a poor North Carolinian hope? See him, on some cloudless morning, when the glorious rays of the sun are gladdening the hearts even of the unintelligent creation, standing within the door of his pine-log cabin, his hands in his pockets, his head leaning against the door in melancholy mood. Some half-dozen pale and swollen-faced children are sitting on a bench against the side of the hut, endeavouring to warm away the ague in the sunbeams. The wife lies sick in bed. The little fields are barely marked out with a rotten and broken-down pole-fence, and overgrown with broom, or Bermuda-grass, and blackberry-bushes. A miserable horse stands beyond the fence, doubtful whether there is better grazing within or without. A little short-cotton and sweet-potato patch, flanked by an acre of scrubby Indian corn; and, added to these, five poor sheep, two goats, and a lean cow, complete the inventory of his goods and chattels. You have all his cause for _hope_! You have, too, his causes for fear. He has in his pocket a summons for debt, contracted for sugar and tea, and other needful comforts, for his sick wife and children.

  "Had he any cause for hope? God knows he had none in this world. But you will say the picture is exaggerated. As I am a true man and a southern, it is not.

  "I was benighted, and sought lodgings in the very house I have described. 'Who lives here,' said I, on riding to the door. 'One Fifer,' said a white-headed, half-grown girl, so weak that she could scarcely stand. I sat up nearly all night with the sick woman and children. On relieving the poor man's embarrassments in the morning, I received the heart-felt thanks of the wretched family; and almost rode my horse to exhaustion, to get away from the wretched image imprinted on my memory.

  "Is this man a sample of the yeomanry of your country? I say, in deep and profound sorrow, I believe that he is. Where, then, does the evil lie? This is a question which every southern must soon ask himself, and one which Nullification cannot answer.

  "_Here_, then, is a triumphant answer--an answer in deeds, instead of words--in the happiness, the prosperity, and the substantial wealth of these simple and primitive Moravians. Here, where I am writing, is an industrious, intelligen
t, and healthy community, in the very heart of all the misery I before described. Let us then improve by the lesson, seek out the sources of their prosperity, find the point where their plans diverge from ours, and, my word for it (if there be no reason in the case), we become a great, a flourishing, and a happy people.

  "But I must take one small exception to the Moravian political economy. They require all the young gentlemen to be enrolled on one list, and all the willing young ladies on another; and the first gentleman on the list must marry the first lady; so that they are drafted for marriage, as our Virginia militia are drafted for duty. I do not know that this is certainly true; but if it be true, that a youth must marry the first that comes up, _nolens volens_, I would put in a plump negative. This excepted, they are worthy of all imitation, even to the drinking of home-brewed in their pewter mugs, and smoking long pipes around their council-table, when their little legislature meets.

  "There are no slaves in this little nation, and labour is no disgrace. In the extensive grounds, belonging to the female seminary, I saw many pretty little arms bared to work; not Moravian young ladies only, but elegant and aristocratic young ladies from all parts of the southern states, without distinction, and of every sect and denomination; and I never saw more beautiful complexions. The little gipsies would come in from their work in the morning, blooming as roses. Here is a complete refutation of the assertion, that the whites cannot work in a southern climate; here are as fine lands, and as fine husbandry and horticulture, as can be found in any country; here are the first paved streets south of Petersburg; here the first town, in which water is conveyed by pipes, as in Philadelphia; here the first stone-fences and grass-plots.

  "Your mother and little Bell are cheerful and happy. Indeed, the latter looks as if she had never suffered for a moment. How happy a life is that of a girl at a boarding-school, exempt from all the pains and penalties of collegians--the 'hair-breadth 'scapes'--the formal trials for riding other people's horses,--ringing church bells,--building fences across the road,--hanging cake and beer signs at magistrates' and elders' doors,--burnings in effigy, fights at country weddings and dances,--exploring expeditions in the mountains and caverns, professedly for geological, but really for depredating purposes,--shooting house-dogs,--expeditions upon the water, and skating upon the ice,--swimming, duelling, fighting, biting, scratching,--firing crackers and cannons in college entries,--heavy meat suppers, with oceans of strong waters,--and then headache, thirst, soda and congress-water in the morning, and perhaps a visit from the doctor or the president,--presentments by the grand jury for playing at cards and overturning apple-carts,--personating ghosts with winding-sheets, and getting knocked on the head for their pains,--serenading sweethearts, and taking linchpins out of wagons,--making sober people drunk and drunken people sober,--battling with watchmen, constables, and sheriffs,--running away from the tailors and tavern-keepers,--kissing country girls, and battling with their beaux,--tricks upon the tutors, and shaving the tails of the president's horses,--stealing away the lion or the elephant at an animal show, and pelting strolling players,--putting hencoops upon churches, painting out signs, and carrying off platforms,--throwing hot rolls under the table, and biscuit at the steward's head,--playing musical seals at prayers, and saying prayers at rows,--gambling in study hours, and filching at recitation,--having one face for the president and another for the fellows,--and, finally, being sent home with a letter to your father, informing him that you are corrupting the morals of your _teachers_ in these pranks. These are a few of the classical studies into which the dear little innocents are never initiated, while they form no small part of collegiate education in America, as we can testify from experience.

  "Many a fine fellow makes the first trial of a stump speech, with an extract from an Irish sermon at a drunken row; his head perhaps stuck three feet through the window of the little bar in a tavern, and his audience sitting round on the beer-tables, armed with sticks, stones, and staves. One, who with drunken gravity keeps his head and stick moving all the while, says, that he concurs fully in opinion with the speaker; though, if asked what the subject is, he swears it is the Greek question. The question and the laugh go round. One avers stoutly that it is Catholic emancipation; a third vociferates that it is a complete justification of Brutus for killing Caesar; a fourth thinks it a part of the recitation of the day, while the most drunken man of the company jumps down from his seat on the table, and swears that he can see through the fellow clearly, 'it's nothing but sleight of hand;' with which he exclaims, as he rubs his eyes and looks round, 'Bless my soul, boys, how drunk you all are; come, I'll help you to your room before matters get worse,' leading off the soberest man in the room. The party then breaks up in a regular row; I think I see the _old_ fellows now, marching off two and two with the true would-be sober and drunken gravity, every man thinking that he is completely cheating his neighbour, by his picked steps and exactly poised head and shoulders, like a drunken soldier on drill. One gets into a carriage rut; another climbs into a pig-sty, and thinks he is getting over the college fence. A third falls over a cow, while a fourth takes off his hat to a blind horse, mistaking him in the dark for the president. At length they are lodged in bed, with boots, hats, and clubs, like soldiers expecting a surprise. Some murder a song or two in a drunken twang, while the rest snore in chorus.

  "But next comes the awful reward of transgression in the morning; dry throats, aching limbs, torn coats, sick stomachs, haggard countenances, swelled heads. The trembling and moody toilet is made; the bell rings for prayers; and a more repentant set of sinners never assembled under its sound. All wonder what has become of the joyous feelings of the previous night, and think with shame of such actions and speeches as they can recollect. Hereupon follows a gloomy and melancholy day. They are home-sick. Relations, friends, and the scenes of childhood, with all their quiet, innocent, and heartfelt pleasures, glide before the imagination. The head becomes dizzy; the heart palpitates; the hands tremble, and the sight grows double. Then comes the fear of illness, and death in a strange land. Associates of the 'row' are avoided; several chapters in the Bible are read; repentance is promised; sleep settles the nervous system; and next morning they arise gay and happy. This continues until the scene is repeated, and so on, until one half forswear brandy and the other half become confirmed sots.

  "Here is a coherent epistle for you. But if you dislike it, send it back, and I will divide it into--first--secondly--thirdly, et cetera, as the old president did his sermons.

  "B. RANDOLPH."