Democratic Sentinel, Volume 3, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 October 1879 — OLD-TIME REMINISCENCES. [ARTICLE]

OLD-TIME REMINISCENCES.

Life in the Lowland , In Its Noria’ and Home BY W. W. w I have said elsewhere in these papers that hospitality in the South is a convertible term, and I have illustrated one phase of it—that among the mountaineers—sufficiently fully, surely; but the subject would not be complete here unless a clearer and fuller glimpse could be given of that kindness and generosity on a larger scale which for many reasons made entertainments of this sort almost peculiar to the possessors of largo estates in the lowlands of the South. In the first place, their circumstances gave them abundant leisure to attend to their guests; and the means at command for hunting, visiting, etc., weie incidental to the occupation of planting. Compelled to keep great numbers of horses, which in other communities are the test of fortune when not used or kept for mere business purposes, in this case they were made to minister upon all occasions to enjoyment, wherever that could be had from jaunts, far and near. In truth, life with these lowland proprietors in the olden time was very much, in its degree, what Ruskin charged upon the nobility of Europe, alluding to their means, their leisure and their power to enjoy it, when he declared that they had been “ on a picnic for 800 years.” Hunting parties to the wilder regions serving as game preservers interspersed throughout the whole South; dinners at each other’s houses, etc., were indulged in in a manner quite regardless of time or cost, and, in many cases, with an elegance that could leave nothing for even the most fastidious to desire. With no anxieties generally, such as beset the possessors of and speculators in bonds and stocks, they on these occasions indulged in a hearty enjoyment of whatever served to drive away care—an enjoyment very seldom disturbed by any scruples concerning their right to as much fun as the circumstances permitted. But, perhaps, as a conscientious chronicler, I should except one case that used sometimes to come under my notice, and which I conclude to mention by way of illustrating what I desire to express. This was the case of a wealthy and jolly friend, who, albeit a member of the church, could never repress an overflowing spirit of mischief and fun, the very opposite of that ancient anceticism which is said to have distinguished the Puritans and Round-heads of the olden time. Mated with one who, in all this, was his very opposite, although a most estimable woman, it was the most common thing possible, when he was in the midst of a good story, and just about to give his guest the pith of it, for her to tell him in a voice pitched at its very lowest key: “ Mr. Jinks, remember that for every idle word you utter, you have got to give an account in the judgment!” Poor Jinks, with a wink and a comical glance at me, his listener, and at the same time a screwing up of his face and a gesture as if some one had trodden on his worst com, would limp through the rest of the story, while the visitor himself might bo set down as remarkably appreciative and audacious if he either could or would venture much of a laugh after that. My. friend’s wife, however, might be said to -have belonged to a “ serious family.” On one occasion the two had ridden to the outskirts of the town in their buggy to say good-by to the old people, her parents, who had been making the daughter and son-in law a lengthy visit. The two carriages stopped at the foot of a hill, where the ‘good-bys” were to be said, and here he “serious” part of it came in. The

old gentleman, a very large man with a remarkably big nose, began to cry. [I must here note that his son-in-law, Jinks, owed him some money.] “My children,” he said, in doleful tones; “we may never meet again in this world. Life is uncertain, and we never know when death may call for us. But,” and the tears fell like rain, “ I hope we shall all meet in heaven! ” Here he gave his nose a twang like the sound of a trumpet, and continued in the same tone, as the carriage started:, “Benjamin, don't forget that thousand dollars! ” The love of the humorous was indulged on all sides to a degree not easy to parallel in Northern communities. On one occasion I had happened in at a fashionable city church, and, taking a pew next to the door, I was standing up at the prayer—it was the Presbyterian service—when one of the deacons, a grave-looking, elderly gentleman, stepped inside, and assuming a devout attitude, his head bowed and his arms folded, waited for the conclusion of the prayer. Now he was almost as “deaf as a post,” but having a particular liking for me, and seeing me in that pew, he concluded he must have me in his own, one of the most conspicuous in church, up close in front of the pulpit. Stretching out his hand as if for a shake, he grasped mine hard and drew me close up to his side, as he stood in the aisle. With a tremendous whisper for he could not hear how loud it was himself —he said: “Come up and sit in my pew!” I whispered as vigorously as I could, right in his ear, that “I was very well situated where I was.” “That won’t do,” came with what was intended for a whisper, but which I was sure the preacher and every one in church must have heard —“come up and sit where you can see all the pretty girls!” The deacon uttered this queer invitation without losing in the least his devotional look; and to say that I was, as it were, “knocked into a cocked hat,” but feebly expresses it. Of course, everybody about there began to laugh, especially some boys; and I could only turn my back on the crowd, and let them have it out; the innocent look of my old friend through it all being not the least comical part of it. I never heard that they “churched” him for it, but I have often thought that “such a bit of the humorous, under the peculiar circumstances, could never have occurred in a New England church. But in truth, this marked feature in the character of the South, a love of the cheerful, or determined ignoring of “carking care,” while it made society eminently agreeable and pleasant, had in it elements of unhappiness in some respects, which, although not very evident on the surface, or in asserting themselves conspicuously, were the ultimate cause of conditions that could not in the end be too much deplored. Life had too much of continuous holiday. The young men, on leaving school, were, in too many cases, made practically acquainted only with the instrumentalities which supplied a limited round of pleasures, a horse, dog and gun; and with these, hunting and visiting from place to place, from neighbor to neighbor, but with no business pursuit, save in some instances, a -limited care of their tat hers matters; once of age, they found themselves dependants, without the power or the scope to earn an independence for themselves. The result of all this was, that the young crowded the old; and unless the latter had been fortunate enough to accumulate an “independence ” for each of these new claimants as they successively came of age, life would of course begin to assume a pointless, objectless character with the latter, anything but pleasant to contemplate with advancing years. Then this condition, this want of a business pursuit, not infrequently begat mercenary calculations on the part of the rising generation, oftentimes disastrous to all purposes of improvement or real advancement, to a certain extent, of real happiness. “James,” said a distinguished and very wealthy gentleman, to a young lad, the son of' a neighbor, one day, “X do not know why it is, but my boys seem as bright and smart as anybody’s sons up to about the time they are able to cipher as far as division. After that, they don’t appear to be inclined to lift their hands to do anything.” The point of this remark will be better appreciated when the statement may be made, as a commentary on the old gentleman’s shrewdness, that at the time “James”—then an elderly gentleman—told me this story of the large fortune of some $2,000,0*00 left to his children by the father who thus complained, not any worth speaking of remained with any of them then. Of course, these ara the two extremes; the extreme of care and the hard chase of business pursuits; and, on the other hand, the easy-going, careless conditions of life of which 1 have been speaking; but, in discussing them and pronouncing between the two, it is easy to see that whatever demerits the more careless life was responsible for, it at least for the time being made up a condition of things favorable in a high degree to careless enjoyment and the resulting cheerfulness most men are apt to desire.

And as for that class of the community, the “poor whites,” another large element in the make up of all Southern communities—no matter how favored these latter were as a wkole with the large estates and resultant large incomes, the poor whites even were apt to be as far removed from real want as possible. He must have been pitiably poor, of that class, who didn’t have some hogs and cattle out in the “range,” running at large in a mild climate and on land that cost him nothing whatever, either for fencing or taxes. And when a friend of mine down there, one Christmas, whose heart had been stirred by stories of distress and starvation in the cities, began to cast about for some poor neighbors to donate something to to make their hearts glad through the Christmas holidays, none could be thought of but one family anywhere near, and that one it was certain, if approached on the subject, would have taken it as an insult! And, although they lived in a cabin so open and rickety that, as a neighbor reported, “seven dogs, as he called there one day, each went out at a different hole;” still, the people had at least abundant to eat always, and it seemed, and was, their own fault if their house was not in better condition. Another feature in Southern life, bearing on the question of hospitality, which went far to cause strangers to be made welcome there, and liberally entertained, at least those of evident intelligence, was found in the isolated life —so far as the outer great world was in the case—led by many of the planters and their families. Under these circumstances it seemed only, and was in reality, a fair exchange made between the host and his visitor, when the one could give him nows of all that had transpired and was going on in the great centers of intelligence, the other could entertain him with the snbstantials meantime. While it may look from the stand-point of communities well supplied with intelligence, but poorly with the means of living, as the extreme of “ hospitality ” to entertain freely a stranger for the night, or longer, it wall only in reality making a fair offset, the one for the other; both finding their pleasure and profit in such an exchange, to say nothing of the

questios of pride on the part of the host in refusing compensation. Of course, it must be remembered, in glancing at the means at command by the rural population of the South for enteitainments and amusemehts, tljat only once in awhile, at long intervals perhaps, would an opera troupe come within hailing distance of even the wealthiest planting communities; so that, perforce, if enjoyments were to be obtained by aggregating the means at command, these must be less formal and precise than those in vogue in the great cities where, with unlimited numbers to draw upon, certain circles insist on being “ very select.” But the Southern gatherings certainly made up in warmth, in graceful merriment and pleasant abandon, what they lacked in exclusiveness and the stiff and formal proprieties; and this largely because each individual in almost all cases was known as neighbor and friend, and was received and treated accordingly. And although, again, most of the inland cities were what might be termed “ provincial,” in their society gatherings, those most in vogue being dancing parties, no part Of the Union could display more real elegance, more of what might bo termed high-bred refinement and courtesy, than was always present on these occasions. I have thought proper to say this much in regard to this phase of society in the lowlands, because already I have dealt so freely with those simpler elements of enjoyment found in the mountain districts; insisting, at the same time, that to an appreciative disposition, to one capable of finding enjoyment under most phases in which life presents itself, there was very little to cavil at in either instance, how much soever there might have been in some aspects of the case to be amused with. These comparisons, too, might for the South be extended almost indefinitely. If the inland States with which I have been dealing presented within the same boundary lines such very diverse populations as those of the mountains and lowlands, the States on tne coast, such as the Carolinas and Georgia, had their “sand-hillers,” the people of the “ piney woods ” or tar region, to exhibit in wide contrast to the wealthy rice and cotton-planters of the same commonwealths. While, as almost every one knows, it was hard to find anywhere within the bounds of the nationality men of more education and traveled intelligence than the latter, many of them spending successive years abroad along with their families; the “ sand-hillers,” on the other hand, presented phases of fife, of poverty, of almost total ignorance and simplicity, such as seems hard to accredit any portion of this country with, unless demonstrated as such by personal observation. And yet there they were and are, and it does not need a discussion of their peculiarities here to establish the fact that such exist, since in various sketches of those regions, by their own local writers—by Judge Longstreet, for instance—they have been set forth graphically and at length. Let the traveler meet with, for instance, in the “piney woods,” men going fifteen or twenty miles with a cart, the wheels with hickory tires, and the rude vehicle loaded with a single barrel of tar, worth, perhaps, $2, with the inevitable jug along to contain in part the proceeds of the long journey and the barter; let him often enough see this as I have seen it, and he would no longer question all that has been said of the utter isolation and miserable want of enterprise and high motive characteristic of those people. , The truth is that society in the South, however it started away back in the history of the nation, was, later, one of strong and broad contrasts—contrasts that were widening every year and decade, until recent causes, imperious and merciless in their leveling tendencies, have at last called a halt, and, indeed, brought a tendency the other way, if anything, approaching to wellnigh agrarianism. While, in the great cities of the North especially, showy liveries and splendid equipages have come in, and “ receptions,” “ kettledrums,” “musical parties,” “amateur theatricals,” “ club gatherings,” “ bal masques,” and so on, on the most “ exclusive” basis, succeed one another with a cost, a frequency and brilliancy that signalize and insist upon an aristocracy, not only of money, but also of talent and style, the South is, in a inaner, sitting down in forgetfulness almost that aught of pleasure parties of any kind have any more an existence, a condition of things that, as matters tend, is not apt io be balanced soon, but something certainly calling for the grave solicitude of all who have anything to do with forming public sentiment and who care for that true equality and unity among the people of the entire nationality, certainly desirable, and even indispensable, if we regard the real advancement and solid prosperity of the republic. Of course; a government has something else before it—at least, statesmen are presumed to have—besides looking to what constitutes the mere amusements of the people; but no statesman or friend of his country can well afford to forget that the means of happiness, whatever their sources may be, should be so nearly equalized, as far as it can be ■done, as to justify no continued hear - burnings, such as too often, in the history of other nations, have caused hatred and revolutions in attempts at them; and which, however futile, are always disastious to a greater or less degree to the general prosperity, and which, consequently should be deprecated by every true lover of his country. Chicago, 111.