Chapter V

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

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, intelligent, 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."