Maria Mitchell: Life, Letters, and Journals - Maria Mitchell
"Most of our lady passengers are, like ourselves, on a tour of pleasure;
six of them go with us to the St. Charles Hotel. Some are from Keokuk,
Ia., and I think I like these the best. One young lady goes ashore to
spend some time on a plantation, as a governess. She looks feeble, and
we all pity her.
"To-day we pass among plantations on both sides of the river. We begin
to see the live-oak--a noble tree. The foliage is so thick and dark that
I have learned to know it by its color. The magnolia trees, too, are
becoming fragrant.
"March 31. We are at length in New Orleans, and up three flights at the
St. Charles, in a dark room.
"The peculiarities of the city dawn upon me very slowly. I first noticed
the showy dress of the children, then the turbaned heads of the black
women in the streets, and next the bouquet-selling boys with their
French phrases.
"April 3. This morning we went to a slave market. It looked on first
entrance like an intelligence office. Men, women, and children were
seated on long benches parallel with each other. All rose at our
entrance, and continued standing while we were there. We were told by
the traders to walk up and down the passage between them, and talk with
them as we liked. As Mr. S. passed the men, several lifted their hands
and said, 'Here's the boy that will suit you; I can do any kind of
work.' Some advertised themselves with a good deal of tact. One woman
pulled at my shawl and asked me to buy her. I told her that I was not a
housekeeper. 'Not married?' she asked.--'No.'--'Well, then, get married
and buy me and my husband.'
"There was a girl among them whiter than I, who roused my sympathies
very much. I could not speak to her, for the past and the future were
too plainly told in her face. I spoke to another, a bright-looking girl
of twelve. 'Where were you raised?'--'In Kentucky.'--'And why are you to
be sold?'--'The trader came to Kentucky, bought me, and brought me
here.' I thought what right had I to be homesick, when that poor girl
had left all her kindred for life without her consent.
"I could hold my tongue and look around without much outward show of
disgust, but to talk pleasantly to the trader I could not consent. He
told me that he had been brought up in the business, but he thought it a
pity.
"No buyers were present, so there was no examination that was painful to
look upon.
"The slaves were intelligent-looking, and very healthy and neat in
appearance. Those who belonged to one owner were dressed alike--some in
striped pink and white dresses, others in plaid, all a little showy. The
men were in thick trousers and coarse dark-blue jackets.
"April 5. We have been this morning to a negro church. We found it a
miserable-looking house, mostly unpainted and unplastered, but well
filled with the swarthy faces. They were singing when we entered; we
were pointed to a good seat.
"There may have been fifty persons present, all well dressed; the women
in the fanciful checkered headdresses so much favored by the negro race,
the men in clean collars, nankin trousers, and dark coats. All showed
that they were well kept and well fed.
"The audience was increased by new comers frequently, and these,
whatever the exercise might be, shook hands with those around them as
they seated themselves, and joined immediately in the services. The
singing was by the whole congregation, the minister lining out the hymns
as in the early times in New England.
"Several persons carried on the exercises from the pulpit, and in the
prayers and sermon the audience took an active part, responding in
groans, 'Oh, yes,' or 'Amen,' sometimes performing a kind of chant to
accompany the words.... A negro minister said in his prayer, 'O God, we
are not for much talking.' I was delighted at the prospect of a short
discourse, but I found his 'not much talking' exactly corresponded to 'a
good deal' in my use of words. He talked for a full hour.
"There was something pleasing in the earnestness of the preacher and the
sympathetic feeling of the audience, but their peculiar condition was
not alluded to, and probably was not felt.
"The discourse was almost ludicrous at times, and at times was pathetic.
I saved up a few specimens:
"'O God, you have said that where one or two are gathered together in
your name, there will you be; if anything stands between us that you
can't come, put it aside.'
"'God wants a kingdom upon earth with which he can coin-cide, and that
kingdom are your heart.'
"'God is near you when you are at the wash-tub or the ironing-table.'
"'Brethren, I thought last Sabbath I wouldn't live to this; a man gets
such a notion sometimes.'
"April 9, Alabama River. Some lessons we of the North might learn from
the South, and one is a greater regard for human life. I asked the
captain of our boat if they had any accidents in these waters. He said,
'We don't kill people at the South, we gave that up some years ago; we
leave it to the North, and the North seems to be capable of doing it.'
"The reason for this is, that they are in no hurry. The Southern
character is opposed to haste. Safety is of more worth than speed, and
there is no hurry.
"Every one at the South introduces its 'peculiar institution' into
conversation.
"They talk as I expected Southern people of intelligence to talk; they
lament the evil, and say, 'It is upon us, what can we do? To give them
freedom would be cruel.'
"Southerners fall back upon the Bible at once; there is more of the
old-fashioned religion at the South than at the North; that is, they are
not intellectual religionists. They are shocked by the irreligion of
Massachusetts, and by Theodore Parker. They read the Bible, and can
quote it; they are ready with it as an argument at every turn. I am of
course not used to the warfare, and so withdraw from the fight.
"One argument which three persons have brought up to me is the superior
condition of the blacks now, to what it would have been had their
parents remained in Africa, and they been children of the soil. I make
no answer to this, for if this is an argument, it would be our duty to
enslave the heathen, instead of attempting to enlighten them.
"We hear some anecdotes which are amusing. A Judge Smith, of South
Carolina, moved to Alabama, and became a prominent man there. He was
sent to the Senate. He was violently opposed by a young man who said
that but for his gray hair he would challenge him. Judge Smith said,
'You are not the first coward who has taken shelter beneath my gray
hairs.'
"The same Judge Smith, when a proposition came before the Senate to
build a State penitentiary, said, 'Wall in the city of Mobile; you will
have your penitentiary and its inmates.'
"So far I have found it easier to travel without an escort South and
West than at the North; that is, I have more care taken of me. Every one
is courteous, too, in speech. I know that they cannot love
Massachusetts, but they are careful not to wound my feelings. They
acknowledge it to be the great State in education; they point to a
pretty village and say, 'Almost as neat as a New England village.'
"Savannah, April 15.... To-day we left town at ten o'clock for a drive
in any direction that we liked. Mr. F. and I went in a buggy, and Miss
S. cantered behind us on her horse.
"The road that we took led to some rice plantations ten miles out of the
city. Our path was ornamented by the live-oaks, cedar trees, the
dogwood, and occasionally the mistletoe, and enlivened sometimes by the
whistle of the mocking-bird. Down low by the wheels grew the wild azalea
and the jessamine. Above our heads the Spanish moss hung from the trees
in beautiful drapery.
"By mistake we drove into the plantation grounds of Mr. Gibbons, a man
of wealth, who is seldom on his lands, and where the avenues are
therefore a little wild, and the roads a little rough.
"We came afterwards upon a road leading under the most magnificent oaks
that I ever saw. I felt as if I were under the arched roof of some
ancient cathedral.
"The trees were irregularly grouped and of immense size, throwing their
hundreds of arms far upon the background of heaven, and bearing the
drapery of the Spanish moss fold upon fold, as if they sought to keep
their raiment from touching the earth. I was perfectly delighted, and
think it the finest picture I have yet seen.
"Retracing our steps, we sought the plantation of Mr. Potter--a very
different one from that of Mr. Gibbons, as all was finish and neatness;
a fine mansion well stored with books, and some fine oaks, some of which
Mr. Potter had planted himself.
"Mr. Potter walked through the fields with us, and, stopping among the
negro huts, he said to a little boy, 'Call the children and give us some
singing.' The little boy ran off, shouting, 'Come and sing for massa;'
and in a few minutes the little darkies might be seen running through
the fields and tumbling over the fences in their anxiety to get to us,
to the number of eighteen.
"They sat upon the ground around us and began their song. The boy who
led sang 'Early in the Morning,' and the other seventeen brought in a
chorus of 'Let us think of Jesus.' Then the leader set up something
about 'God Almicha,' to which the others brought in another chorus.
"They were a dirty and shabby looking set, but as usual fat, even to the
little babies, whom the larger boys were tending. One little girl as she
passed Mr. Potter carelessly put her hand in his and said, 'Good
morning, massa.'
"Mrs. G. tells me an anecdote which shows the Southern sentiment on the
one subject. The ladies of Charleston were much pleased with Miss
Murray, and got up for her what they called a Murray testimonial, a
collection of divers pretty things made by their own hands. The large
box was ready to be sent to England, but alas for Miss Murray! While
they were debating in what way it should be sent to ensure its reaching
her without cost to herself, in an unwise moment she sent twenty-five
dollars to 'Bleeding Kansas,' and the fit of good feeling towards her
ebbed; the 'testimonial' remains unsent.
"April 23, Charleston. This place is somewhat like Boston in its narrow
streets, but unlike Boston in being quiet; as is all the South. Quiet
and moderation seem to be the attributes of Southern cities. You need
not hurry to a boat for fear it will leave at the hour appointed; it
never does.
"We took a carriage and drove along the Battery. The snuff of salt air
did me good.
"Then we went on to a garden of roses, owned and cultivated by a colored
woman. She has some twenty acres devoted to flowers and vegetables, and
she owns twenty 'niggers.' The universal term for slaves is 'niggers.'
'Nigger, bring that horse,' 'Nigger, get out of the way,' will be said
by the finest gentleman, and 'My niggers' is said by every one.
"I do not believe that the slaves are badly treated; there may be cases
of it, but I have seen them only sleek, fat, and lazy.
"The old buildings of Charleston please me exceedingly. The houses are
built of brick, standing end to the street, three stories in height,
with piazza above piazza at the side; with flower gardens around, and
magnolias at the gates; the winding steps to the mansions festooned with
roses.
"I have just called on Miss Rutledge, who lives in the second oldest
house in the city; herself a fine specimen of antiquity, in her
double-ruffled cap and plaided black dress; she chatted away like a
young person, using the good old English.
"April 26. To-day Mr. Capers called on me. I was pleased with the
account he gave me of his college life, and of a meeting held by his
class thirty years after they graduated. Some thirty of them assembled
at the Revere House in Boston; they spread a table with viands from all
sections of the country. Mr. Capers sent watermelons, and another
gentleman from Kentucky sent the wines of his State.
"They sat late at table; they renewed the old friendships and talked
over college scenes, and when it was near midnight some one proposed
that each should give a sketch of his life, so they went through in
alphabetical order.
"Adams was the first. He said, 'You all remember how I waited upon table
in commons. You know that I afterwards went through college, but you do
not know that to this man [and he pointed to a classmate] I was indebted
for the money that paid for my college course.'
"Anderson was the second, and he told of his two wives: of the first,
much; of the second, little. Bowditch came next, and he said he would
tell of Anderson's second wife, who was a Miss Lockworth, of Lexington,
Ky.
"Anderson, a widower, and his brother went to Lexington, carrying with
them a letter of introduction to the father of the young lady.
"While the brother was making an elaborate toilet, Anderson strolled
out, and came, in his walk, upon a beautiful residence, and saw, within
the enclosure, some inviting grounds. He stopped and spoke to the
porter, and found it was Mr. Lockworth's. He told the porter that he had
letters to Mr. Lockworth, and was intending to call upon him. The porter
was very communicative, and told him a good deal. Anderson asked if
there were not a pretty daughter. The porter asked him to walk around.
As he entered the gate he reached a dollar to the man, and, being much
pleased, when he came out he reached the porter another dollar.
"Anderson went back to the hotel, told his brother about it, and they
set out together to deliver the letter. The brother knew Mr. Lockworth,
and as they met him in the parlor, he walked up, shook hands with him,
and asked to present his brother, Lars Anderson. 'No introduction is
necessary,' said Mr. Lockworth; and putting his hand into his pocket,
drawing out the two dollars, he added, 'I am already in your debt just
this sum!' The 'pretty daughter' was sitting upon the sofa.
"Mr. Capers told me that their autobiographies drew smiles and tears
alternately; they continued till one o'clock; then one of the class
said, 'Brothers, do you know that not a wineglass has yet been turned
up, not a drop of wine drunk? And all were at once so impressed with the
conviction that they had all been lifted above the needs of the flesh
that they refused to drink, and one of the clergymen of the class
kneeling in prayer, they all knelt at once, even to some idle spectators
who were looking on.
"April 28. Nothing can exceed the hospitality shown to us. We have
several invitations for each day, and calls without limit.
"I had heard Mrs. Holbrook described as a wonder, and I found her a very
pleasing woman, all ready to talk, and talking with a richness of
expression which shows a full mind. Mrs. Holbrook was a Rutledge, and it
was amusing, after seeing her, to open Miss Bremer's 'Homes of the New
World,' and read her extravagant comments. Miss Bremer was certainly
made happy at Belmont.
"April 29. To-day I have been to see Miss Pinckney. She is the last
representative of her name, is over eighty, and still retains the
animation of youth, though somewhat shaken in her physical strength by
age. I found her sitting in an armchair, her feet resting upon a
cushion, surrounded by some half-dozen callers.
"She rose at once when I entered, and insisted upon my occupying her
seat, while she took a less comfortable one.
"The walls of the room were ornamented with portraits of Major-General
Pinckney by Stuart, Stuart's Washington, one by Morris of General Thomas
Pinckney, and a portrait of Miss Pinckney's mother.
"Miss Pinckney is a very plain woman, but much beloved for her
benevolence.
"It is said that on looking over her diary which she keeps, recording
the reasons for her many gifts to her friends and to her slaves, such
entries as these will be found:
"'$---- to Mary, because she is married.'
"'$---- to Julia, because she has no husband.'
"Miss Pinckney showed me among her centre-table ornaments a miniature of
Washington; one of her grandmother, of exceeding beauty; one of each of
the Pinckneys whose portraits are on the walls.
"Charleston is full of ante-Revolution houses, and they please me. They
were built when there was no hurry; they were built to last, and they
have lasted, and will yet last for the children of their present
possessors.
"Nothing can be happier in expression than the faces of the colored
children. They have what must be the ease of the lower classes in a
despotic country. The slaves have no care, no ambition; their place is a
fixed one--they know it, and take all the good they can get. The
children are fat, sleek, and, inheriting no nervous longings from their
parents, are on a constant grin--at play with loud laughs and high
leaps.
"May 1. It does not follow because the slaves are sleek and fat and
really happy--for happy I believe they are--that slavery is not an evil;
and the great evil is, as I always supposed, in the effect upon the
whites. The few Southern gentlemen that I know interest me from their
courtesy, agreeable manners, and ready speech. They also strike me as
childlike and fussy. I catch myself feeling that I am the man and they
are women; and I see this even in the captain of a steamer. Then they
all like to talk sentiment--their religion is a feeling.
"May 2. The negroes are remarkable for their courtesy of manner. Those
who belong to good families seem to pride themselves upon their dress
and style.
"A lady walking in Charleston is never jostled by black or white man.
The white man steps out of her way, the black man does this and touches
his hat. The black woman bows--she is distinguished by her neat dress,
her clean plaid head-dress, and her upright carriage. It would be well
for some of our young ladies to carry burdens on their heads, even to
the risk of flattening the instep, if by that means they could get the
straight back of a slave.
"Mrs. W., who takes us out to drive, comes with her black coachman and a
little boy. The coachman wears white gloves, and looks like a gentleman.
The little boy rings door-bells when we stop.
"When it rained the other day, Mrs. W. dropped the window of the
carriage, and desired the two to put on their shawls, for fear they
would take cold. They are plainly a great care to their owners, for they
are like children and cannot take care of themselves; and yet in another
way the masters are like children, from the constant waiting upon that
they receive. One would think, where one class does all the thinking and
the other all the working, that masters would be active thinkers and
slaves ready workers; but neither result seems to happen--both are
listless and inactive.
"May 3. I asked Miss Pinckney to-day if she remembered George
Washington. She and Mrs. Poinsett spoke at once. "'Oh, yes, we were
children,' said Mrs. Poinsett; 'but my father would have him come to see
us, and he took each of us in his arms and kissed us; and at another
time we went to Mt. Vernon and made him a visit.'
"Never were more intelligent old ladies than Mrs. Poinsett and Miss
Pinckney. The latter stepped around like a young girl, and brought a
heavy book to show me the sketch of her sister, Marie Henrietta
Pinckney, who, in the nullification time of 1830, wrote a pamphlet in
defence of the State.
"Miss Pinckney's father was the originator of the celebrated maxim,
'Millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute.' Their house was
the headquarters for the nullifiers, and they had serenades, she said,
without number.
"It was pleasant to hear the old ladies chatter away, and it was
interesting to think of the distinguished men who had been under that
roof, and of the cultivated and beautiful women who had adorned the
mansion.
"Miss Pinckney, when I left, followed me to the door, and put into my
hands an elegant little volume of poems, called 'Reliquiai.'
"They seem to be simple effusions of some person who died early.
"May 9. We left Charleston, its old houses and its good people, on
Monday, and reached Augusta the same day.
"Augusta is prettily laid out, but the place is of little interest; and
for the hotel where we stayed, I can only give this advice to its
inmates: 'Don't examine a black spot upon your pillow-case; go to sleep
at once, and keep asleep if you can.'
"When we were on the road from Augusta to Atlanta, the conductor said,
'If you are going on to Nashville, you will be on the road in the night;
people don't love to go on that road in the night. I don't know why.'
"When we came to the Nashville road, I thought that I knew 'why.' The
road runs around the base of a mountain, while directly beneath it, at a
great depth, runs a river. A dash off the track on one side would be
against the mountain, on the other side would be into the river, while
the sharp turns seem to invite such a catastrophe. When we were somewhat
wrought up to a nervous excitement, the cars would plunge into the
darkness of a tunnel--darkness such as I almost felt.
"It was a picturesque but weary ride, and we were tired and hungry when
we reached Nashville.
"May 11. To-day we have been out for a two-hours' drive. It is warm,
cloudy, and looks like a tempest; we are too tired for much effort.
"Mrs. Fogg, of Nashville, took us to call on the widow of President
Polk. We found her at home, though apparently just ready for a walk. She
is still in mourning, and tells me that she has not travelled fifty
miles from home in the last eight years.
"She spoke to me of Governor Briggs (of Massachusetts), an old friend;
of Professor Hare; and said that among her cards, on her return from a
journey some years ago, she found Charles Sumner's; and forgetting at
the moment who he was, she asked the servant who he was. 'The
Abolitionist Senator from Massachusetts--I asked him in,' was the reply.
"Mrs. Polk talks readily, is handsome, elegant in figure, and shows at
once that she is well read. She told me that she reads all the newspaper
reports of the progress of science. She lives simply, as any New England
woman would, though her house is larger than most private residences.
"Mrs. Fogg told me many anecdotes of Dorothea Dix. That lady was, at one
time, travelling alone, and was obliged to stop at some little village
tavern. As she lay half asleep upon the sofa, the driver of the stage in
which she was to take passage came into the room, approached her, and
held a light to her closed eyes. She did not dare to move nor utter a
sound, but when he turned away she opened her eyes and watched him. He
went to the mail-bags, opened them, took out the letters, hastily broke
the seals, took out money enclosed, put it into his pocket, closed the
bags, and again approached her with his lamp. She shut her eyes and
pretended to sleep again; then at the proper time entered the stage and
pursued her journey. At the end of the journey she reported his conduct
to the proper authorities.
"I was a little doubtful about the propriety of going to the Mammoth
Cave without a gentleman escort, but if two ladies travel alone they
must have the courage of men. So I called the landlord as soon as we
arrived at the Cave House, and asked if we could have Mat, who I had
been told was the best guide now that Stephen is ill. The landlord
promised Mat to me for two days. After dinner we made our first attempt.
"The ground descends for some two hundred feet towards the mouth of the
cave; then you come to a low hill, and you descend through a small
aperture not at all imposing, in front of which trickles a little
stream. For some little while we needed no light, but soon the guide
lighted and gave to each of us a little lamp. Mat took the lead, I came
next, Miss S. followed, and an old slave brought up in the rear.
"I confess that I shuddered as I came into the darkness. Our lamps, of
course, gave but feeble light; we barely saw at first where our feet
must step.
"I looked up, trying in vain to find the ceiling or the walls. All was
darkness. In about an hour we saw more clearly. The chambers are, many
of them, elliptical in shape; the ceiling is of mixed dark and white
color, and looks much like the sky on a cloudy moonlight evening.
"A friend of ours, who has been much in the cave, says, 'If the top were
lifted off, and the whole were exposed to view, no woman would ever
enter it again.'
"We clambered over heaps of rocks, we descended ladders, wound through
narrow passages, passed along chambers so low that we crouched for the
whole length, entered upon lofty halls, ascended ladders, and crossed a
bridge over a yawning abyss.
"Every nightmare scene that I had ever dreamed of seemed to be realized.
I shuddered several times, and was obliged to reason with myself to
assure me of safety. Occasionally we sat down and rested upon some flat
rock.
"Miss S., who has a great taste for costuming, wound her plaid shawl
about her shoulders, turbaned her head with a green veil, swung her lamp
upon a stick which she rested upon her shoulder, and then threw herself
upon a rock in a most picturesque attitude. The guide took a lower seat,
and his dirty tin cup, swung across his breast, looked like an ornament
as the light struck it; his swarthy face was bright, and I wondered what
our friends at home would give for a picture.