LIFE IN A TEXAS TOWN.
ONE day we heard shout upon shout from many a soldier's throat in camp.
The headquarters guard and officers' servants, even the officers
themselves, joined in the hallooing, and we ran out to see what could be
the matter. It was our lordly Byron. Stately and superb as he usually
was, he had another side to his character, and now he was racing up from
camp, a huge piece of meat in his jaws, which he had stolen from the
camp-kettle where it was boiling for the soldiers' dinner. His retreat
was accompanied with every sort of missile--sticks, boots and rocks--but
this dog, that made himself into a "greased streak of lightning," as a
colored woman described him, bounded on, untouched by the flying hail of
the soldiers' wrath. The General did not dare to shout and dance in
sight of the men, over what he thought so cunning in this hateful dog,
as he was not protected by the friendly walls of our tent; but he
chuckled, and his eyes danced, for the brute dropped the hot meat when
he had looked about to discover how close his pursuers were, and then,
seeing the enemy nearing him, picked it up and distanced them all. The
General went back to his tent, and called Eliza, to torment her with an
account of what "her favorite" had done all by himself. She spared no
words to express her opinion of the hated hound, for Byron was no
respecter of persons when the sly side of his character was uppermost.
He stole his master's dinner just as readily as the neighbors'. Eliza
said no one could tell how many times he had made off with a part of her
dinner, just dished up to be served, and then gone off on a prowl,
"after he'd gorged hissel," as she expressed it, "hidin' from the other
dogs, and burying it in jest such a stingy way you might 'spect from
such a worthless, plunderin' old villain."
The march to Austin was varied by fording. All the streams and rivers
were crossed in that manner, except one, where we used the pontoon
bridge. The Colorado we found too high to ford, and so made a détour of
some miles. The citizens were not unfriendly, while there was a total
cessation of work on the part of the negroes until our column went by.
They sat on the fences like a row of black crows, and with their usual
politeness made an attempt to answer questions the troops put to them,
which were unanswerable, even in the ingenious brain of the propounder.
"Well, uncle, how far is it ten miles down the road from here?" If their
feelings were hurt by such irrepressible fun, they were soon healed by
the lively trade they kept up in chickens, eggs and butter.
The citizens sometimes answered the General's salute, and his interested
questions about the horse they rode, by joining us for a short distance
on the march. The horseflesh of Texas was a delight to him; but I could
not be so interested in the fine points as to forget the disfiguring
brands that were often upon the foreshoulder, as well as the flank. They
spoke volumes for the country where a man has to sear a thoroughbred
with a hot iron, to ensure his keeping possession. Father Custer used to
say, "What sort of country is this, anyhow, when a man, in order to keep
his property, has got to print the whole constitution of the United
States on his horse?" The whole get-up of the Texans was rather
cumbersome, it seemed to me, though they rode perfectly. They frequently
had a Mexican saddle, heavily ornamented with silver on the high pommel,
and everywhere else that it could be added. Even the design of the
stamped leather, for which Mexico is famous, was embroidered with silver
bullion. The stirrup had handsome leather covers, while a fringe of
thongs fell almost to the ground, to aid in pushing their way through
the tall prairie grass. Sometimes the saddle-cloth, extending to the
crupper, was of fur. The bridle and bit were rich with silver also. On
the massive silver pommel hung an incongruous coil of horse-hair rope,
disfiguring and ugly. There was an iron picket-pin attached to the
lariat, which we soon learned was of inestimable value in the long rides
that the Texans took. If a man made a halt, he encircled himself with
this prickly lariat and lay down securely, knowing that no snake could
cross that barrier. In a land of venomous serpents, it behooved a man to
carry his own abatis everywhere. The saddle was also secured by a cinch
or girth of cow's-hair, which hard riders found a great help in keeping
the saddle firm. The Texan himself, though not often wearing the
high-crowned, silver-embroidered Mexican sombrero, wore usually a
wide-brimmed felt hat, on which the General afterward doted, as the felt
was of superior quality. If the term "dude" had been invented then, it
would often have applied to a Texan horseman. The hair was frequently
long, and they wore no waistcoat, I concluded because they could better
display the vast expanse of shirt-front. While the General and his
casual companion in our march talked horse, too absorbed to notice
anything else, I used to lose myself in the contemplation of the maze of
tucks, puffs and embroidery of this cambric finery, ornamented with
three old-fashioned bosom-pins. The wearer seemed to me to represent two
epochs: the fine linen, side-saddle and blooded horse belonged to "befo'
the war;" while the ragged elbows of the coat-sleeves, and the worn
boots, were decidedly "since the war." If the shirt-front was intricate
in its workmanship, the boots were ignored by the placid owner.
They usually had the Mexican serape strapped to the back of the saddle,
or, if it was cold, as it was in our late November march, they put their
head through the opening in the middle, so woven for that purpose, and
flung the end across their breast and over one shoulder in a picturesque
manner. The bright hues of the blanket, dyed by the Indians from the
juice of the prickly pear, its soft, flexible folds having been woven
in a hand-loom, made a graceful and attractive bit of color, which was
not at all out of place in that country. These blankets were valuable
possessions. They were so pliable and perfectly water-proof, that they
protected one from every storm. We had a pair, which we used through
every subsequent campaign, and when the cold in Kansas and Dakota became
almost unbearable, sometimes, after the long trial of a journey in the
wagon, my husband used to say, "We will resort to extreme measures,
Libbie, and wrap you in the Mexican blankets." They were the warmest of
all our wraps. Nothing seemed to fade them, and even when burnt with
Tom's cigarette ashes, or stuck through with the General's spurs, they
did not ravel, as do other fabrics. They have hung as portières in my
little home, and the design and coloring are so like the Persian rug on
the floor, that it seems to be an argument to prove that Mr. Ignatius
Donnelly, in his theory of Atlantis, is right, and that we once had a
land highway between the East and Mexico, and that the reason the Aztec
now uses the designs on his pottery and in his weaving is, that his
ancestors brought over the first sketches on papyrus.[E]
A Texan travels for comfort and safety rather than for style. If a
norther overtakes him, he dismounts and drives the picket-pin into the
ground, thus tethering his horse, which turns his back, the better to
withstand the oncoming wind. The master throws himself, face down, in
the long grass, buried in his blanket, and thus awaits the termination
of the fury with which the storm sweeps a Texas prairie.
Sometimes one of the planters, after riding a distance with us, talking
the county over, and taking in every point of our horses as he rode,
made his adieus and said he was now at his own place, where he turned
in. The General followed his fine thoroughbred with longing eyes, and
was more than astonished to find in what stables they kept these
valuable and delicate animals. No matter if the house was habitable, the
stable was usually in a state of careless dilapidation. Doors swung on
one hinge, and clapboards were torn off here and there, while the warped
roof was far from weather-proof. Even though Texas is in the "Sunny
South," the first sharp norther awakens one to the knowledge that it is
not always summer. Sometimes these storms are quickly over, but
frequently they last three days. This carelessness about stabling stock
was not owing to the depredations of an invading army. We were the first
"Yankees" they had seen. It was the general shiftlessness that creeps
into one's veins. We were not long there ourselves before climatic
influence had its effect on even the most active among us.
Before we reached Austin, several citizens sent out invitations for us
to come to their houses; but I knew the General would not accept, and,
cold as the nights were, I felt unwilling to lose a day of camp life. We
pitched our tents on rolling ground in the vicinity of Austin, where we
overlooked a pretty town of stuccoed houses that appeared summery in the
midst of the live-oak's perennial green. The State House, Land Office,
and governor's mansion looked regal to us so long bivouacking in the
forest and on uncultivated prairies. The governor offered for our
headquarters the Blind Asylum, which had been closed during the war.
This possessed one advantage that we were glad to improve: there was
room enough for all the staff, and a long saloon parlor and dining-room
for our hops during the winter. By this time two pretty, agreeable
women, wives of staff-officers, were added to our circle. Still, I went
into the building with regret. The wagon in which the wind had rocked
me to sleep so often, and which had proved such a stronghold against the
crawling foes of the country, was consigned to the stable with a sigh.
Camp life had more pleasures than hardships.
There were three windows in our room, which we opened at night; but,
notwithstanding the air that circulated, the feeling, after having been
so long out of doors, was suffocating. The ceiling seemed descending to
smother us. There was one joy--reveillé could ring out on the dawning
day and there was no longer imperative necessity to spring from a warm
bed and make ablutions in ice-water. There is a good deal of that sort
of mental snapping of the fingers on the part of campaigners when they
are again stationary and need not prepare for a march. Civilization and
a looking-glass must now be assumed, as it would no longer do to rough
it and ignore appearances, after we had moved into a house, and were to
live like "folks." Besides, we soon began to be invited by the
townspeople to visit them. Refined, agreeable and well-dressed women
came to see us, and, womanlike, we ran our eyes over their dresses. They
were embroidered and trimmed richly with lace--"befo' the war" finery or
from the cargo of a blockade runner; but it was all strange enough in
such an isolated State. Almost everything was then brought from the
terminus of the Brenham Railroad to Austin, 150 miles, by ox-team. We
had been anxiously expected for some time, and there was no manner of
doubt that the arrival of the Division was a great relief to the
reputable of both sides. They said so frankly--the returned Confederate
officers and the "stay-at-home rangers," as well as the newly appointed
Union governor.
Texas was then a "go-as-you-please" State, and the lawlessness was
terrible. The returned Confederate soldiers were poor, and did not know
how to set themselves to work, and in many instances preferred the life
of a freebooter. It was so easy, if a crime was committed, to slip into
Mexico, for though it was inaccessible except by stage or on horseback,
a Texan would not mind a forced march over the country to the Rio
Grande. There were then but one or two short railroads in operation. The
one from Galveston to Brenham was the principal one, while telegraph
lines were not in use. The stage to Brenham was our one means of
communication with the outside world.
It was hard for the citizens who had remained at home to realize that
war was over, and some were unwilling to believe there ever had been an
emancipation proclamation. In the northern part of the State they were
still buying and selling slaves. The lives of the newly appointed United
States officers were threatened daily, and it was an uneasy head that
wore the gubernatorial crown. I thought them braver men than many who
had faced the enemy in battle. The unseen, lurking foe that hides under
cover of darkness was their terror. They held themselves valiantly; but
one wife and daughter were on my mind night after night, as from dark
till dawn they slept uneasily, and started from their rooms out into the
halls at every strange sound. The General and I thought the courageous
daughter had enough brave, devoted blood in her veins to distill a
portion into the heart of many a soldier who led a forlorn hope. They
told us that in the early part of the war the girl had known of a Union
flag in the State House, held in derision and scornfully treated by the
extremists. She and her younger brother climbed upon the roof of a wing
of the building, after dark, entered a window of the Capitol, found the
flag, concealed it in the girl's clothing, and made their perilous
descent safely. The father of such a daughter might well prize her
watchfulness of his safety, as she vigilantly kept it up during our
stay, and was equal to a squadron of soldiers. She won our admiration;
and our bachelor officers paid the tribute that brave men always pay to
courageous, unselfish women, for she danced, rode and walked with them,
and when she was not so engaged, their orderlies held their horses
before the official door, while they improved every hour allowed them
within the hospitable portal.
It was a great relief to find a Southern State that was not devastated
by the war. The homes destroyed in Virginia could not fail to move a
woman's heart, as it was women and children that suffered from such
destruction. In Texas nothing seemed to have been altered. I suppose
some profited, for blockade-running could be carried on from the ports
of that great State, and there was always Mexico from which to draw
supplies.
In our daily rides we found the country about Austin delightful. The
roads were smooth and the surface rolling. Indeed, there was one high
hill, called Mount Brunnel, where we had picnics and enjoyed the fine
view, far and near, taking one of the bands of the regular regiments
from the North that joined us soon after our arrival. Mount Brunnel was
so steep we had to dismount and climb a part of the distance. The band
played the "Anvil Chorus," and the sound descended through the valley
grandly. The river, filled with sand-bars and ugly on close examination,
looked like a silver ribbon. At that height, the ripened cotton, at
certain seasons of the year, looked like fields of foam. The thermometer
was over eighty before we left the lowlands; but at the altitude to
which we climbed the air was cool. We even went once to the State Insane
Asylum, taking the band, when the attendants asked if dance music might
be played, and we watched with wonder the quadrille of an insane eight.
The favorite ride for my husband was across the Colorado to the Deaf and
Dumb Asylum. There seemed to be a fascination for him in the children,
who were equally charmed with the young soldier that silently watched
their pretty, pathetic exhibitions of intelligent speech by gesture. My
husband riveted his gaze on their speaking eyes, and as their instructor
spelt the passions of love, hatred, remorse and reverence on his
fingers, one little girl represented them by singularly graceful
gestures, charming him, and filling his eyes with tears, which he did
not seek to hide. The pupils were from ten to sixteen years of age.
Their supple wrists were a delight to us, and the tiny hands of a child
of the matron, whom the General held, talked in a cunning way to its
playmates, who, it knew, could not comprehend its speech. It was well
that the Professor was hospitality itself, and did not mind a cavalcade
dashing up the road to his house. My husband, when he did not openly
suggest going, used some subterfuge as trivial as going for water-cress,
that grew in a pond near the Asylum. The children knew him, and welcomed
him with lustrous, eloquent eyes, and went untiringly through their
little exhibitions, learning to bring him their compositions, examples
and maps, for his commendation. How little we thought then that the
lessons he was taking, in order to talk with the children he learned to
love, would soon come into use while sitting round a camp-fire and
making himself understood by Indians. Of course, their sign-language is
wholly their own, but it is the same method of using the simplest signs
as expressive of thought. It was a long, pleasant ride; its only
drawback to me being the fording of the river, which had quicksands and
a rapid current. The Colorado was low, but the river-bed was wide and
filled with sand-bars. The mad torrent that the citizens told us of in
freshets, we did not see. If I followed my husband, as Custis Lee had
learned to do, I found myself guided safely, but it sometimes happened
that our party entered the river, laughing and talking so earnestly,
noisily and excitedly that we forgot caution. One lesson was enough; the
sensation of the sinking of the horse's hindlegs in quicksands is not to
be forgotten. The loud cry of the General to "saw on the bit" or whip my
horse, excited, frightened directions from the staff to turn to the
right or the left, Custis Lee trembling and snorting with fear, but
responding to a sharp cut of my whip (for I rarely struck him), and we
plunged on to a firmer soil, wiser for all the future on account of that
moment of serious peril.
We seldom rode through the town, as my husband disliked the publicity
that a group of cavalrymen must necessarily cause in a city street. If
we were compelled to, the staff and Tom pointed out one after another of
the loungers about the stores, or the horseman, who had killed his man.
It seemed to be thought the necessary thing, to establish the Texan's
idea of courage, to have either fought in duels, or, by waylaying the
enemy, to have killed from one to five men. The Southern climate seems
to keep alive a feud that our cold Northern winters freeze out. Bad
blood was never kept in abeyance; they had out their bursts of temper
when the attack of rage came on. Each man, even the boys of twelve, went
armed. I used to wonder at the humped-up coats, until a norther, before
which we were one day scudding for safety, lifted the coats of men
making a similar dash, and the pistol was revealed.
It was the favorite pastime of our men (having concocted the scheme with
the General) to ride near some of the outskirts, and, when we reached
some lone tree, tell me that from that limb a murdered man had lately
swung. This grim joke was often practiced on me, in order that the
shuddering horror and the start Custis Lee and I made, to skim over the
country away from such a hated spot, might be enjoyed. I came to think
the Texas trees bore that human fruit a little too often for truth; but
some of the citizens gloated over these scenes of horror, and added a
lamp-post in town to the list of localities from which, in future, I
must turn away my head.
The negroes in Texas and Louisiana were the worst in all the South. The
border States had commonly sold their most insubordinate slaves into
these two distant States.[F] Fortunately, our now well-disciplined
Division and the regular cavalry kept everything in a better condition;
but there were constantly individual cases of outrageous conduct, and
often of crime, among whites and blacks, high and low. Texas had so long
been looked upon as a sort of "city of refuge" by outlaws, that those
whom the other States refused to harbor came to that locality. A country
reached only by sea from the south or by a wagon-train from the north,
and through which no telegraph lines ran until after we came, would
certainly offer an admirable hiding-place for those who leave their
country for their country's good. I have read somewhere that Texas
derived its name from a group of rascals, who, sitting around a fire on
their arrival on the soil that was to protect them, composed this
couplet:
"If every other land forsakes us,
This is the land that freely takes us (Texas)."
As story after story reached us, I began to think the State was well
named. There were a great many excellent, law-abiding citizens, but not
enough to leaven the lump at that chaotic period. Even the women learned
to defend themselves, as the war had deprived them of their natural
protectors, who had gone either in the Northern or Southern army--for
Texas had a cavalry regiment of refugees in our service. One woman,
while we were there, found a teamster getting into her window, and shot
him fatally. Firearms were so constantly about--for the men did not
dress without a pistol in their belts--that women grew accustomed to the
sight of weapons. There was a woman of whom I constantly heard, rich and
refined, but living out of town on a plantation that seemed to be fit
only for negroes. She rode fearlessly, and diverted her monotonous life
by hunting. The planters frequently met her with game slung upon her
saddle, and once she lassoed and brought in a wolf alone. Finally, this
woman came to see me, but curiosity made me hardly civil for a few
moments, as I was trying to reconcile myself to the knowledge that the
quiet, graceful person before me, with rich dress, jewels and a French
hat, could take her gun and dogs, mount a fiery horse, and go hunting
alone. We found, on returning the visit, that, though they were rich,
owning blooded horses, a plantation and a mill, their domicile was
anything but what we at the North would call comfortable. It was a long,
one-storied, log building, consisting of a parlor, dining-room, bedroom
and two small "no-'count" rooms, as the servants said, all opening into
one another and upon the porch. The first surprise on entering was, that
the roof did not fit down snugly on the side wall. A strip of the blue
sky was visible on three sides, while the partition of the dining-room
only came up part way. There seemed to be no sort of provision for
"Caudle lectures." The walls were roughly plastered, but this space just
under the roof was for ventilation, and I fancied they would get enough
of it during a norther.
I am reminded of a story that one of the witty Southern women told me,
after repeating some very good comic verses, in which they excel. She
said the house I described was not uncommon in Texas, and that once she
was traveling over a portion of the State, on a journey of great
suffering, as she was accompanying her husband's remains to a family
burial-ground. They assisted her from her carriage into one of the rooms
of a long log house, used as a wayside inn, and the landlady kindly
helped her into bed, as she was prostrated with suffering and fatigue.
After she left her, the landlady seemed to forget that the partition did
not extend to the rafters, and began questioning her servant as to what
was the matter, etc. Hearing that the lady had lost her husband, the old
dame exclaimed, sympathetically, "Poor thing! Poor thing! I know how it
is; I've lost three of em."
The General and his staff got a good deal of sport out of the manner in
which they exaggerated the tales of bloodshed to me, and aroused the
anger, grief and horror that I could not suppress. I must defend myself
from the supposition that I may have been chronicling their absurd and
highly colored tales. All that I have written I have either seen or have
reliable authority for. Their astounding stories, composed among
themselves, began with a concocted plan by which one casually started a
story, the others met it with surprise, and with an "Is it possible?"
and the next led up to some improbable narrative of the General's--I
growing more and more shivery as the wicked tormentors advanced. Always
rather gullible, I suppose, I must confess the torn and distracted state
of society in Texas made everything they said seem probable. I don't
know how long I kept up a fashion of starting and shuddering over the
frequent crack of a rifle or pistol, as we rode through the woods about
the town. My husband and his attendant scamps did all they could to
confirm my belief that the woods were full of assassins, and I rode on
after these sharp reports, expecting to come upon the lifeless remains
of a murdered man. They all said, with well-assumed feeling, that Texas
was an awful country in which to live, where a man's life was not safe
an hour, and excitedly exclaimed at each shot, "There goes some other
poor fellow!" I have reason to believe it was a serious disappointment
to the whole confederation of jokers, to have me actually see a Mexican
driver (a greaser) crack his whip over the heads of his oxen, as they
crawled along in front of us one day when we were riding. There is no
sound like the snap of the lash of a "bull-whacker," as they are called,
and perhaps brighter women than I am might have been taken in by it, and
thought it a pistol-shot. This ended my taking it as the signal of a
death.
The lawlessness of the State was much diminished by the troops scattered
through the country. General Custer was much occupied in answering
communications that came from distant parts of Texas, describing the
demoralized state of the country, and asking for troops. These appeals
were from all sides. It was felt more and more that the presence of the
troops was absolutely necessary, and it was certainly agreeable to us
that we were not looked upon as invaders. The General then had thirteen
regiments of infantry and as many of cavalry, scattered in every part of
the State comprised in his district. The regular troops arriving brought
their wives and daughters, and it was a great addition, as we had
constant entertainments, in which the civilians, so long cut off from
all gayety, were glad to participate. The staff assisted me greatly in
my preparations. We dressed the long parlors in evergreens, made
canopies of flags, arranged wax-lights in impromptu wooden sconces, and
with the waxed floor it was tempting enough to those who cared for
dancing. The soldiers soon organized a string band, and a sergeant
called off the quadrilles. Sometimes my husband planned and arranged the
suppers alone, but usually the staff divided the duty of preparing the
refreshments. Occasionally we attempted a dinner, and, as we wanted to
invite our own ladies as well as some from the regular regiments, the
table was a subject of study; for when twenty came, the dishes gave out.
The staff dined early, so that we could have theirs, and the Southern
woman who occupied two rooms in the building lent everything she had.
Uncle Charley, our cook, who now had found a colored church in which to
preach on Sunday, did up all his religion on that day, and swore all the
week, but the cellar-kitchen was distant, and, besides, my husband used
to argue that it was just as well to endure placidly the evils right
about us, but not to seek for more. The swearing did not interfere with
the cooking, and Charley thought it necessary to thus clear the kitchen,
as our yard at that time was black with the colored race. Each officer's
servant had his circle of friends, and they hovered round us like a dark
cloud. The dishes that Uncle Charley sent up were excellent. The Texas
beef and poultry were of superior quality, and we even had a respite
from condensed milk, as a citizen had lent us a cow.
At one of these dinners Eliza had enlisted a colored boy to help her
wait on the table. I had tried to borrow enough dishes, and thought the
table was provided. But the glory of the occasion departed when, after
soup, roast game, etc., all served with the great luxury, at that place,
of separate plates, Uncle Charley bethought himself that he would add,
as a surprise, a dessert. It is almost unnecessary to say that a dessert
at that time was an event. Uncle Charley said his "best holt" was on
meats, and his attempts at pastry would not only have ruined the remnant
of his temper, but, I am afraid, if often indulged in, would have
effectually finished our digestion. For this I had not counted, and, to
my dismay, after the pudding had been deposited with great salaam and
ceremony before the General, the colored boy rushed around and gathered
everybody's coffee-saucer. Until he returned them washed, and placed
them at the head of the table, I did not imagine what he was doing; I
simply waited, in that uncertain frame of mind that a hostess well
knows. My husband looked at the array of cups down the long table,
standing bereft of their partners, laid his head back and shouted. Then
everybody else laughed, and, very red and very mortified, I concluded to
admit that I had not arranged for this last course, and that on that
table were the united contents of all our mess-chests, and there were no
saucers or dessert-plates nearer than town. We were aware that our stay
in the South was limited, and made no effort to keep enough crockery for
dinners of twenty.
After many enjoyable parties in our parlor, we received a pathetic and
carefully worded hint from Eliza, who was now a great belle, that she
would like to return some of the hospitality shown her by the colored
people of the town, and my husband was only too glad to prove to Eliza
how we valued her faithful, self-denying life in our service. We
composed an invitation, in which Miss Eliza Brown presented her
compliments to Mr. Washington or Mr. Jefferson, as the case might be,
and would be happy to see him on such an evening, with the word
"dancing" in the left-hand corner. A gathering of the darkeys seemed
equally jubilant, whether it was a funeral, a camp-meeting or a dance;
but it seemed they made a difference in dress for these occasions, if
not in manners. So it was best, Eliza thought, to add "dancing," though
it was only at first a mirthful suggestion of the General's fertile
brain. He gave the copying to the office clerk, who, being a
professional penman, put as many tails to his capitals and flourishes to
his words as he did for the white folks, Eliza's critical eye watching
for any less elaborate embellishment.
The lower part of the house was given over to the negroes, who polished
the floor, trimmed the windows, columns and chimney with garlands of
live-oak, and lavished candles on the scene, while at the supper they
had a heterogeneous jumble of just what they asked for, including coon,
the dish garnished with watercress and bits of boiled beet. I think we
were not asked; but as the fiddle started the jigs, the General's feet
began to keep time, and he executed some _pas seul_ around our room, and
then, extracting, as usual, a promise from me not to laugh, he dragged
me down the steps, and we hid where we saw it all. The quadrille ended,
the order of ceremonies seemed to consist in the company going down to
one end of the room in response to an order from Uncle Charley to "cl'ar
the flo'." Then the old man of sixty, a grandfather, now dressed in
white tie, vest and gloves, with shining black clothes, took the floor.
He knew himself to be the cynosure of all eyes, and bore himself
accordingly. He had previously said to me, "To-night, I expects, Miss
Libbie, to put down some steps those colored folks has never seen
befo'." And surely he did. He ambled out, as lithe as a youngster, cut
some pigeon-wings, and then skipped and flung himself about with the
agility of a boy, stopping not only for breath, but to watch the
expressions, envious and admiring, of the spectators at the end of the
room. When his last breath was exhausted, Aunt Ann, our old laundress,
came tripping down the polished floor, and executed a shuffle, most
decorous at first, and then, reviving her youth, she struck into a
hoydenish jig, her son encouraging her by patting time. More quadrilles,
then another clearing of the floor, and a young yellow woman pirouetted
down the room, in bright green tarlatan petticoats, very short and airy.
She executed a hornpipe and a reel, and, like Uncle Charley, improvised
some steps for the occasion. This black sylph was surrounded with a
cloud of diaphanous drapery; she wreathed her arms about her head, kept
on the smirk of the ballet-girl, and coquetted and skipped about, with
manners that brought down the house. The fattest darkey of all waddled
down next and did a breakdown, at which all the assembly patted juba,
and with their woolly heads kept time to the violin. My husband never
moved from his hiding-place, but chuckled and shook over the sight,
novel to us, till Eliza found us out and forgave the "peeking."
The clothes worn looked as if the property-room of a third-rate theatre
had been rifled--faded finery, fag ends of old lace, tumbled flowers
that had done duty at many a "white folks'" ball, on the pretty costume
of the missus, old feathers set up in the wool, where what was left of
the plume bobbed and quavered, as the head of the owner moved to the
time of the music, or nodded and swayed back and forth while
conversation was kept up. The braiding, oiling and smoothing had gone on
for days previous, to straighten the wool and make it lie flat; but the
activity in the pursuit of pleasure soon set the little kinks free, and
each hair stood on tiptoe, joining in a jig of its own. The powder
begged from the toilet-table of the missus was soon swept away in the
general shine; but the belles cared little for having suspended
temporarily the breath of their rivals by the gorgeousness of their
toilettes; they forgot appearances and yielded to that absorption of
excitement in which the colored soul is spellbound.
Eliza moved about, "queening it," as she knew how to do, and it was a
proud hour of triumph to her, as she cast a complacent side glance at
the tail of her gown, which she had wheedled out of me by cunning
arguments, among which the most powerful was that "'twas getting so
mussed, and 'twasn't no sort of a dress for a Ginnel's wife, no how."
The General lost nothing, for he sat in our hidden corner, shaking and
throwing his head back in glee, but keeping a close and warning hold on
my arm, as I was not so successful in smothering a titter as he was,
having no mustache to deaden the sound. After Eliza discovered us, she
let no one know of our perfidy, and the company, believing they were
alone, abandoned themselves to complete enjoyment, as the fiddle played
havoc with the heels of the entire assembly.
FOOTNOTES:
[E] In a town of Mexico last year I saw these small looms with blankets
in them, in various stages of progress, in many cottages. Among the
Indians the rude loom is carried about in the mountain villages, and
with some tribes there is a superstition about finishing the blankets in
the same place where they were begun. A squaw will sometimes have one
half done, and if an order is given her she will not break over her rule
to finish it if a move is made in the midst of her work. She waits until
the next year, when her people return to the same camp, as is the custom
when the Indian seeks certain game or grazing, or to cut longer poles.
[F] In order to gain some idea of the immense territory in which our
troops were attempting to restore order, I have only to remind the
reader that Texas is larger than either the German or the Austrian
Empire. The area of the State is 274,356 square miles. It is as large as
France, Belgium, England and Wales all combined. If we could place the
northwestern corner of Texas at Chicago, its most southerly point would
be at Jacksonville, Fla., its most easterly at Petersburg, Va., and its
most westerly in the interior of Missouri. It would thus cover the
entire States of Indiana, Kentucky and the two Carolinas, and nearly all
of Tennessee, with one-third of Ohio, two-thirds of Virginia, half of
Georgia, and portions of Florida, Alabama, Illinois and Missouri. The
cities of Chicago, Toledo, Cincinnati, Washington, Richmond, Charleston,
Atlanta and Nashville would all be included within its borders.