CHAPTER VIII.

FIFTY YEARS AGO.

GOVERNOR MATHEWS--INDIANS--TOPOGRAPHY OF MIDDLE GEORGIA--A NEW COUNTRY

AND ITS SETTLERS--BEAUX AND BELLES--EARLY TRAINING--JESUIT TEACHERS--A

MOTHER'S INFLUENCE--THE JEWS--HOMELY SPORTS--THE COTTON GIN--

CAMP-MEETINGS.

Immediately subsequent to the Revolution, all the country northwest of

the Ogeechee River, in the middle portion of the State of Georgia, was

divided into two counties, Franklin and Wilkes. It was a wilderness,

and contiguous to both the Creek and Cherokee Indian nations. No

country in the world was more beautiful in its topography, and few more

fertile in soil. Governor Mathews had purchased a home in this region;

and being at this time the principal man in the up-country, attracted

to his neighborhood the emigrants who began to come into the country.

Mathew's Revolutionary services in the command of a regiment in the

Virginia line were eminent; and his character for intrepidity naturally

made him a leader among such men as were likely to seek and make homes

in a new country.

Surrounded not only with all the difficulties presented to him by the

unsubdued wilderness, but the perils of savage warfare, he

unflinchingly went forward in his enterprise, daring and conquering

every obstacle nature and the savages interposed. He was an uneducated

man; but of strong mind, ardent temperament, and most determined will.

Many anecdotes are related of his intrepidity, self-respect, and

unbending will. He was a native of Augusta County, Virginia, and

emigrated to Georgia about the same time that Elijah Clarke came from

North Carolina and settled in that portion of the new territory now

known as Clarke County.

These two remarkable men formed a nucleus for those of their respective

States who came at subsequent periods to make a home in Georgia. They

were models to the youth of their respective neighborhoods, and gave

tone to the character of the population for many years after they were

in their graves. About the same time, the Earlys came from Virginia,

and the Abercrombies from North Carolina, and located respectively in

the new counties of Greene and Hancock. They were all men of strong

character, and all exercised great influence with those who accompanied

or came to them at a subsequent period.

Among the very first to locate in Greene County was Colonel David Love,

from North Carolina, and soon after came the Nesbits, Jacksons, and

Hortons; all of whom settled upon the head-waters of the Ogeechee and

upon Shoulderbone Creek.

The country was very attractive, the soil very generous, the water

good, and the health remarkable. The general topography of Middle

Georgia (as that portion of Georgia is now termed) is unsurpassed by

any other portion of the State for beauty--hill and dale, the one not

rising many feet above the other, generally with beautiful slopes, and

scarcely at any place with so much abruptness as to forbid cultivation.

Upon these lovely acclivities were built the cabins of the emigrants,

at the base of which, and near the house, was always to be found a

fountain of pure, sweet water, gushing and purling away over sand and

pebbles, meandering through a valley which it fertilized, and which

abounds in shrubs flowering in beauty, and sheltered by forests of oak,

hickory, pine, and gum.

Those who first came were frequently compelled to unite in a settlement

at some selected point, and, for defence against the inroads of the

savages, were obliged to build stockade forts, with blockhouses.

Nature seems to have prepared, during the Revolution, men for subduing

the wilderness and its savage inhabitants. They cheerfully encountered

all the difficulties and hazards thus presented, and constantly pursued

their object to its consummation. They came from every section of the

older communities, and all seemed animated with the same spirit. They

were orderly, but rude; and though beyond the pale of the law, they

were a law unto themselves; and these laws were strictly enforced by a

public opinion which gave them being and efficiency. With remarkably

simple habits and very limited opportunities, their wants were few; and

these were supplied by their own industry and frugality upon the farm.

Their currency was silver coin, Spanish milled, and extremely limited

in quantity. The little trade carried on was principally by barter, and

social intercourse was confined almost exclusively to the Sabbath. The

roads were rough and uneven, consisting almost entirely of a way

sufficiently wide for an ox-cart to pass, cut through the forest, where

the stumps and stones remained; and in soft or muddy places, the bodies

of small trees or split rails were placed side by side, so as to form a

sort of bridge or causeway, so rough as to test and not unfrequently to

destroy the wheels of the rude vehicles of the country. These obtained

and to this day receive the sobriquet of Georgia railroads or corduroy

turnpikes.

Very few of these immigrants were independent of labor; and most of

them devoted six days of the week to the cultivation of a small farm

and its improvement. Children learned early to assist in this labor,

and those who were sent to school, almost universally employed the

Saturday of each week in farm-work.

Man's social nature induces aggregation into communities, which

stimulates an ambition to excel in every undertaking. From this

emulation grows excellence and progress in every laudable enterprise.

These small communities, as they grew from accessions coming into the

country, began to build rude places for public worship, which were

primitive log-cabins, and served as well the purposes of a

school-house. Here the adult population assembled on the Sabbath, and

the children during the week. This intercourse, together with the

dependence of every one at times for neighborly assistance, was greatly

promotive of harmony and mutual confidence. Close and familiar

acquaintance revealed to all the peculiar character of every one--the

virtuous and the vicious, the energetic or the indolent, the noble and

the ignoble--and all very soon came to be appreciated according to

their merit.

Rude sports constituted the amusements of the young--wrestling,

leaping, and hunting; and he who was most expert at these was the

neighborhood's pride: he rode from church with the prettiest girl, and

was sure to be welcomed by her parents when he came; and to be selected

by such an one was to become the neighborhood's belle. At log-rollings,

quiltings, and Saturday-night frolics, he was the first and the most

admired.

The girls, too, were not without distinction--she who could spin the

greatest number of cuts of cotton, or weave the greatest number of

yards of cloth, was most distinguished, and most admired; but

especially was she distinguished who could spin and weave the neatest

fabric for her own wear, of white cloth with a turkey-red stripe--cut,

and make it fit the labor-rounded person and limbs--or make, for

father's or brother's wear, the finest or prettiest piece of jean--cook

the nicest dinners for her beau, or dance the longest without fatigue.

The sexes universally associated at the same school, (a system

unfortunately grown out of use,) and grew up together with a perfect

knowledge of the disposition, temperament, and general character of

each other. And, as assuredly as the boy is father to the man, the girl

is mother to the woman; and these peculiarities were attractive or

repulsive as they differed in individuals, and were always an influence

in the selection of husbands and wives. The prejudices of childhood

endure through life, particularly those toward persons. They are

universally predicated upon some trait of manner or character, and

these, as in the boy perceived, are ever prominent in the man. So, too,

with the girl, and they only grow with the woman. This is a paramount

reason why parties about contracting marriage-alliances should be well

aware of whom they are about to select. The consequence of this

intercommunication of the sexes from childhood, in the primitive days

of Georgia's first settlement, was seen in the harmony of families. In

the age which followed, a separation or divorce was as rare as an

earthquake; and when occurring, agitated the whole community. For then

a marriage was deemed a life-union, for good or for evil, and was not

lightly or inconsiderately entered into.

The separation of the sexes in early youth, and especially at school,

destroys or prevents in an eminent degree the restraining influences

upon the actions of each other, and that tender desire for the society

of each other, which grows from childhood's associations. Brought

together at school in early life, when the mind and soul are receiving

the impressions which endure through life, they naturally form

intimacies, and almost always special partialities and preferences.

Each has his or her favorite, these partialities are usually

reciprocal, and their consequence is a desire on the part of each to

see the other excel. To accomplish this, children, as well as grown

people, will make a greater effort than they will simply to succeed or

to gratify a personal ambition to that effect. Thus they sympathize

with and stimulate each other. Every Georgia boy of fifty years ago,

with gray-head and tottering step now, remembers his sweetheart, for

whom he carried his hat full of peaches to school, and for whom he made

the grape-vine swing, and how at noon he swung her there.

'T is bonny May; and I to-day

Am wrinkled seventy-four,

Still I enjoy, as when a boy,

Much that has gone before.

Is it the leaves and trees, or sheaves

Of yellow, ripened grain,

Which wake to me, in memory,

My boyhood's days again?

These seem to say 't is bonny May,

As when they sweetly grew,

And gave their yield, in wood and field,

To me, when life was new.

But nought beside--ah, woe betide!--

Which grew with me is here--

The home, the hall, the mill, the all

Which young life holds so dear.

The school-house, spring, and little thing,

With eyes so bright and blue,

Who'd steal away with me and play

When school's dull hours were through,

Are memories now; and yet, oh! how

It seems but yesterday

Since I was there, with that sweet dear,

In the wild wood at play.

The hill was steep where we would leap;

The grape-vine swing hung high,

And I would throw the swing up so

That, startled, she would cry.

But though she cried, she still relied

(And seemed to have no fear)

On me to hold the swing, and told

Me "not to frighten her."

But I was wild, and she no child,

And not afraid, I deemed;

So tossed as high the swing as I

Could--when she fell and screamed.

She was not harmed; but I, alarmed,

Ran quickly to assist,

And lifted her, all pale with fear,

Within my arms, and kissed

Her pallid cheek, ere she could speak:

But I had seen, you know,

(Ah! what of this? that sight and kiss

Was fifty years ago,)

That little boot and pretty foot,

So neatly formed and small--

The swelling calf, and stifled laugh--

How I remember all!

That lovely one has long since gone,

Is dust, and only dust, now;

Yet I recall that swing and fall,

As though it had been just now.

Take these lines, reader, if you please, as an evidence of how the

memories growing out of the associations of boyhood's school-days

endure through life. This association of the sexes operates as a

restraint upon both, salutary to good conduct and good morals. Such

restraints are far more effective than the staid lessons of some old,

wrinkled duenna of a school-mistress, whose failure to find a

sweetheart in girlhood, or a husband in youthful womanhood, has soured

her toward every man, and filled her with hatred for the happiness she

witnesses in wedded life, and which is ever present all around her. Her

warnings are in violation of nature. She has forgotten she was ever

young or inspired with the feelings and hopes of youth. Men are

monsters, and marriage a hell upon earth. Girls will not believe this,

and will get married. How much better, then, that they should

cultivate, in association, the generous and natural feelings of the

heart, and during the period allotted by nature for the growth of the

feelings natural to the human bosom, as well as to the growth of the

person and mind, than to be told what they should be by one

disappointed of all the fruits of them, and hating the world because

she is! It is the mother who should form the sentiments and direct the

conduct of daughters, and in their teachings should never forget that

nature is teaching also. Let their lessons always teach the proper

indulgences of nature, as well as the proper and prudent restraints to

the natural feelings of the human heart, and so deport themselves

toward their daughters from infancy as to win their confidence and

affection. The daughters, when properly trained, will always come with

their little complaints in childhood, and seek consolation, leaning

upon the parent's knee, and, with solicitude, look up into the parental

face for sympathy and advice. Home-teaching and home-training makes the

proper woman. When this is properly attended to, there needs no

boarding-school or female-college finish, which too frequently uproots

every virtuous principle implanted by the careful and affectionate

teaching of pious, gentle, and intelligent mothers. But few mothers,

who are themselves properly trained, forget nature in the training and

education of their daughters; and a truly natural woman is a blessing

to society and a crown of glory to her husband. I mean by a natural

training a knowledge of herself, as well as a knowledge of the offices

of life and the domestic duties of home. Every woman in her girlhood

should learn from her mother the mission and destinies of woman, as

well as what is due to society, to their families, to themselves, and

to God. The woman who enters life with a knowledge of what life is, and

what is due to her and from her in all the relations of life, has a

thousand chances for happiness through life unknown to the belle of the

boarding-school, who, away from home influences, is artificially

educated to be in all things prominent before the world, and entirely

useless in the discharge of domestic duties. She may figure as the

lady-president or vice-president of charitable associations, or the

lady-president of some prominent or useless society; but never as a

dutiful, devoted wife, or affectionate, instructive mother to her

children. Her household is managed by servants, and about her home

nothing evinces the neat, provident, and attentive housewife.

The whole system of education, as practised by the Protestants of the

United States, is wrong; religious prejudice prevents their learning

from the Catholics, and particularly from the Jesuit Catholics, who are

far in advance of their Protestant brethren. They learn from the child

as they teach the child. In the first place, none are permitted to

teach who are not by nature, as well as by education, qualified to

teach; nature must give the gentleness, the kindness, and the patience,

with the capacity to impart instruction. They learn, first, the child's

nature, the peculiarities of temper, and fashion these to obedience and

affection; they first teach the heart to love--not fear; they warn

against the evils of life--teach the good, and the child's duties to

its parents, to its brothers and sisters, to its teachers, to its

playmates, and to its God. When the heart is mellowed and yields

obedience in the faithful discharge of these duties, and the brain

sufficiently matured to comprehend the necessity of them, then

attention is directed to the mind; its capacities are learned and

known, and it is treated as this knowledge teaches is proper: it is, as

the farmer knows, the soil of his cultivation, and is prepared by

careful tillage before the seed is sown. The vision of the child's mind

is by degrees expanded; the horizon of its knowledge is enlarged, and

still the heart's culture goes on in kindness and affection. The pupil

has learned to love the teacher, and receives with alacrity his

teaching; he goes to him, without fear, for information on every point

of duty in morals, as on every difficult point of literary learning. He

knows he will be received kindly, and dealt with gently. Should he err,

he is never rebuked in public, nor harshly in private; the teacher is

aggrieved, and in private he kindly complains to the offender, whose

love for his preceptor makes him to feel, and repent, and to err no

more. All this is only known to the two; his school-fellows never know,

and have no opportunity for triumph or raillery. Thus taught from the

cradle, principles become habits; and on these, at maturity, he is

launched upon the world, with every safeguard for his future life. So

with the girl. With the experience of forty-five years, the writer has

never known a vicious, bad woman, wife, or mother trained in a Jesuit

convent, or reared by an educated Catholic mother.

The daughters of the pioneers of Georgia's early settlements received a

home education; at least, in the duties of domestic life. In the

discharge of these duties, they gained robust constitutions and

vigorous health; they increased the butcher's bill at the expense of

the doctor's; and such women were the mothers of the men who have made

a history for their country, for themselves and their mothers. I may be

prolix and prosaic, but I love to remember the mothers of fifty years

ago--she who gave birth to Lucius Q.C. and Mirabeau B. Lamar, to

William C. Dawson, Bishop George Pierce, Alexander Stuart, Joseph

Lumpkin, and glorious Bob Toombs. I knew them all, and, with

affectionate delight, remember their virtues, and recall the social

hours we have enjoyed together, when they were matrons, and I the

companion of their sons. And now, when all are gone, and time is

crowding me to the grave, the nobleness of their characters, the

simplicity of their bearing in the discharge of their household duties,

and the ingenuousness of their manners in social intercourse, is a

cherished, venerated memory. None of these women were ever in a

boarding-school, never received a lesson in the art of entering a

drawing-room or captivating a beau. They were sensible, modest, and

moral women, and their virtues live after them in the exalted character

of their illustrious sons. Their literary education in early life was,

of necessity, neglected, because of the want of opportunities; but in

the virtues and duties of life, they were thoroughly educated; and none

of these, or any of their like, was ever Mrs. President or Secretary of

any pretentious or useless society or association.

The little education or literature they acquired was in the old log

school-house, where boys and girls commingled as pupils under the

teaching of some honest pedagogue, who aspired to teach only reading,

writing, and arithmetic, in a simple way. It must not be supposed, from

the foregoing remarks, that I object to female education; on the

contrary, I would have every woman an educated woman. But I would have

this education an useful and proper education; one not wholly

ornamental and of no practical use, but one obtained at home, and under

the parental care and influence--such an one as made Mrs. Ripley, of

Concord, Massachusetts, the wonder and admiration of every sensible

man. She who studied La Place's _Mécanique Céleste_ when she was making

biscuit for her breakfast, and who solved a problem in the higher

mathematics when darning her stockings; an education where the useful

may be taught and learned to grace the ornamental--where the harp and

piano shall share with the needle and the cooking-stove, and the

pirouettes of the dancing-master shall be only a step from the laundry

and the kitchen.

The duties of wives and mothers are to home, husband, and children; and

this includes all of woman's duty to the country, and in the

intelligent and faithful discharge of which the great ends of life are

subserved. Good neighborhood, good government, and happy communities

secure the implanting and cultivation of good principles, and the

proper teaching of proper duties. The wise direction of literary

education to sons and to daughters, all comes within the range of home,

and home duties especially incumbent upon mothers. The domestic duties

and domestic labors should be a prime consideration in the education of

daughters. The association of the mother and child from birth, until

every principle which is to guide and govern it through life is

implanted, makes it the duty of the mother to know the right, and to

teach it, too. Example and precept should combine; and this necessity

compels a constant watch, not only over the child's, but over the

mother's language and conduct. All these duties imply a close devotion

to home: for here is the germ which is to grow into good or into evil,

as it is nursed and cultivated, or wickedly neglected. Begin at the

beginning, if you would accomplish well your work; and to do this,

application and assiduity are indispensable; and these are duties only

to be discharged at home. They admit of a relaxation of time sufficient

for every social duty exacted by society, if that society is such as it

should be; and if not, it should neither occupy time not attention.

In this is comprised all woman's duties, and they are paramount; for

upon their successful application depend the well-being of society and

the proper and healthful administration of wise and salutary laws. The

world is indebted to woman for all that is good and great. Let every

woman emulate Cornelia, the Roman mother, and, when a giddy, foolish

neighbor runs to her to exhibit newly purchased jewels, be found, like

the Roman matron, at her tambour-work; and like her, too, when her boys

from school shall run to embrace her, say to the thoughtless one,

"These are my jewels!" and Rome will not alone boast of her Gracchi and

their incomparable mother.

The duties of home cultivate reflection and stimulate to virtue. For

this reason, women are more pious than men; and for this reason, too,

they are more eminent in purity. Contact with the domestic circle does

not contaminate or corrupt, as the baser contact with the world is sure

to do.

The home circle is select and chaste--the promiscuous intermingling

with the world meretricious and contaminating. The mother not trained

to the appreciation and discharge of the domestic duties, was never the

mother of a great representative mind; because she is incapable of

imparting those stern principles of exalted morality and fixity of

purpose essential in forming the character of such men. The mother of

Cincinnatus was a farmer's wife; of Leonidas, a shepherdess; and the

mothers of Washington, Webster, Clay, Calhoun, William H, Crawford, and

Andrew Jackson were all the wives of farmers--rural and simple in their

pursuits, distinguished for energy and purity; constant in their

principles, and devoted to husband, home, and children. They never

dreamed it was woman's vocation or duty to go out into the world and

mingle in its strifes and contentions--but at home, to view them,

reflect upon their consequences to society, and upon the future of

their sons and daughters, and warn them what to emulate and what to

shun. They, as did their husbands, felt the necessity of preserving

that delicacy of thought and action which is woman's ornament, and

which is more efficient in rebuking licentiousness and profligacy in

the young and the old than all the teaching of the schools without such

example. Such were the mothers of the great and the good of our land,

and such the mothers of those men now prominent and distinguished in

the advocacy and support of the great principles of natural rights and

humanity.

It is a mooted question whether the purposes of human life demand a

high, classical education among the masses; or whether the general

happiness is promoted by such education. In the study of the human mind

in connection with human wants, we are continually met with

difficulties arising from the want of education; and quite as

frequently with those resulting from education. So much so, that we

hear from every wise man the declaration that as many minds are ruined

by over-education as from the want of education.

Man's curse is to labor. This labor must of necessity be divided to

subserve the wants of society--and common sense would teach that each

should be educated as best to enable him to perform that labor which

may fall to his lot in life. But who shall determine this lot? Every

day's experience teaches the observant and thinking man that no one

individual is uselessly born. To deny this proposition would be to call

in question the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. Every one possesses

proclivities for some one avocation, and should be educated for its

pursuit. This is manifested in very early life; in some much more

palpably than in others. This is always the case when the aptitude is

decisive. In such cases this idiosyncrasy will triumph over every

adverse circumstance, educational or otherwise; but in the less

palpable, it will not; and the design of nature may, and indeed

constantly is, disappointed, and improper education and improper

pursuits given. In these pursuits or callings, the person thus

improperly placed there never succeeds as he would had his bent or

mental inclination been observed, and his education directed to it, and

he given to its pursuit. Such persons labor through life painfully;

they have no taste or inclination for the profession, business, or

trade in which they are engaged; its pursuit is an irksome, thankless

labor; while he who has fallen into nature's design, and is working

where his inclinations lead, labors happily, because he labors

naturally. These inclinations the parent or guardian should observe;

and when manifested, should direct the education for the calling nature

has designed. Idiosyncrasies are transmissible or inherited. In old and

populous communities, where every pursuit or profession is full, the

father generally teaches his own to his son or sons. Where this has

extended through three or four generations, the proclivity is generally

strongly marked, and in very early childhood made manifest. Thus, in

the third or fourth generation, where all have been blacksmiths, the

child will be born with the muscles of the right arm more developed

than those of the left, and the first plaything he demands is a hammer.

So, where a family have been traders, will the offspring naturally

discover an aptness for bargaining and commerce. This is illustrated in

the instincts of the Jews, a people of extraordinary brain and

wonderful tenacity of purpose. Five thousand years since, a small

fragment of the Semitic race, residing in Mesopotamia between the

waters of the Euphrates and the Tigris, consisting of two families,

came into the land of Canaan, in Asia Minor; from them have descended

the people known as Jews. The country over which they spread, and which

is known as Judea, is not more than four hundred miles long by two

hundred and fifty in breadth, situated between two populous and

powerful empires, the Assyrian and Egyptian, who, waging war too

frequently, made the land of Judea their battle-field, and its people

the objects of persecution and oppression. The earnings of their labor

were deemed legitimate prey by both, and taken wherever found: they

were led into captivity by the Assyrians and by the Egyptians,

enslaved, and denied the legal right to possess the soil--which, to the

everlasting disgrace of Christian Europe, was a restriction upon this

wonderful people until within the present century. A blind bigotry

would have blotted them from the face of the earth, but for that

energy, talent, and enterprise possessed by them in a superior degree

to any people upon the globe. Inspired by a sublime belief that they

were the chosen people of God, no tyranny nor oppression could subdue

their energies. They prayed and labored, went forward with untiring

determination, upheld by their faith, and always, under the direst

distress, found comfort from this belief and the fruits of incessant

labor. The soil of their loved Canaan was barren, and yielded

grudgingly to the most persistent labor. This drove them to trade, and

an extended intercourse with the world. Without a national government

of sufficient power to protect them when robbed by the people or the

governments surrounding their own, they were compelled, for

self-protection, to resort to every means of concealing the earnings of

their enterprise and superior knowledge and skill from Christian and

pagan alike. They gave value to the diamond, that in a small stone,

easy of concealment, immense wealth might be hidden. They invented the

bill of exchange, by which they could at pleasure transfer from one

country to another their wealth, and avoid the danger of spoliation

from the hand of power and intolerance. Without political or civil

rights in any but their own country, they were compelled to the

especial pursuit of commerce for centuries, and we now see that

seven-tenths of all Jews born, as naturally turn to trade and commerce

as the infant to the breast. It has become an instinct.

To these persecutions the world is probably indebted for the

developments of commerce--the bringing into communication the nations

of the earth for the exchange of commodities necessary to the use and

comfort of each other, not of the growth or production of each,

enlarging the knowledge of all thus communicating, and teaching that

civilization which is the enlightenment and the blessing of

man--ameliorating the savage natures of all, and teaching that all are

of God, and equally the creatures of His love and protection; and

leading also to that development of mind in the Israelite which makes

him conspicuous to-day above any other race in the great attributes of

mind--directing the policy of European governments--first at the Bar,

first in science, first in commerce, first in wealth--preserving the

great traits of nationality without a nation, and giving tone, talent,

wealth, and power to all.

A few men only are born to think. Their minds expand with education,

and their usefulness is commensurate with it. This few early evince a

proclivity so strong for certain avocations as to enable those who have

the direction of their future to educate them for this pursuit. This

proclivity frequently is so overpowering as to prompt the possessor,

when the early education has been neglected, to educate himself for

this especial idiosyncrasy. This was the case with Newton--with

Stevenson, the inventor of the locomotive-engine, who, at twenty years

of age, was ignorant even of his letters. Arkwright was a barber, and

almost entirely illiterate when he invented the spinning-jenny. Train,

the inventor of the railroad, was, at the time of its invention, a

coal-heaver, and entirely illiterate.

These cases are rare, however. The great mass of mankind are born to

manual labor, and only with capacities suited for it. To attempt to

cultivate such minds for eminent purposes would be folly. Even

supposing they could be educated--which is scarcely supposable, for it

would seem a contravention of Heaven's fiat--they could no more apply

this learning, which would simply be by rote, than they could go to the

moon. Such men are not unfrequently met with, and are designated, by

common consent, learned fools. Nature points out the education they

should receive. In like manner with those of higher and nobler

attributes, educate them for their pursuits in life. It requires not

the same education to hold a plough, or drive an ox, that it does to

direct the course of a ship through a trackless sea, or to calculate an

eclipse; and what is essential to the one is useless to the other.--But

I am wandering away from the purpose of this work. Turning back upon

the memories of fifty years ago, and calling up the lives and the

histories of men, and women too, I have known, I was led into these

reflections, and ere I was aware they had stolen from my pen.

The rude condition of a country is always imparted to the character of

its people, and out of this peculiarity spring the rough sports and

love of coarse jokes and coarse humor. No people ever more fully

verified this truth than the Georgians, and to-day, even among her best

educated, the love of fun is a prevailing trait. Her traditions are

full of the practical jokes and the practical jokers of fifty years

ago. The names of Dooly, Clayton, Prince, Bacon, and Longstreet will be

remembered in the traditions of fun as long as the descendants of their

compatriots continue to inhabit the land. The cock-fight, the

quarter-race, and the gander-pulling are traditions now, and so is the

fun they gave rise to; and I had almost said, so is the honesty of

those who were participants in these rude sports. Were they not more

innocent outlets to the excessive energies of a mercurial and

fun-loving people than the faro-table and shooting-gallery of to-day?

Every people must have their amusements and sports, and these,

unrestrained, will partake of the character of the people and the state

of society. Sometimes the narrow prejudices of bigoted folly will

inveigh against these, and insist upon their restraint by law; and

these laws, in many of the States, remain upon the statute-book a

rebuking evidence of the shameless folly of fanatical ignorance. Of

these, the most conspicuous are the blue-laws of Connecticut, and the

more absurd and criminal laws of Massachusetts against amusements not

only necessary, but healthful and innocent. Even in the present

advanced state of knowledge and civilization, do we occasionally hear

ranted from the pulpit denunciations of dancing, as a sinful and

God-offending amusement. Such men should not be permitted to teach or

preach--it is to attenuate folly and fanaticism, to circumscribe the

happiness of youth, and belie the Bible.

The emigrants to Kentucky, Tennessee, and Georgia were all persons of

like character, combining a mixture of English, Irish, and Scotch

blood. They were enterprising, daring, and remarkable for great good

sense. Rude from the want of education and association with a more

polished people, they were nevertheless high-principled and full of

that chivalrous spirit which prompts a natural courtesy, courts danger,

and scorns the little and mean--open-handed in their generosity, and

eminently candid and honest in all their intercourse and dealings with

their fellow-men. These elements, collected from various sections,

combined to form new communities in the wild and untamed regions. In

their conflicts with the savages were shown a daring fearlessness and a

high order of military talent in very many of the prominent leaders of

the different settlements. They had no chronicler to note and record

their exploits, and they exist now only in the traditions of the

country.

The names of Shelby and Kenton, of Kentucky; of Davidson and Jackson,

of Tennessee; of Clarke, Mathews, and Adams, of Georgia; Dale, of

Alabama, and Claiborne, of Mississippi, live in the memory of the

people of their States, together with those of Tipton, Sevier, Logan,

and Boone, and will be in the future history of these States, with

their deeds recorded as those whose enterprise, energy, and

fearlessness won from the wilderness and the savage their fertile and

delightful lands, to be a home and a country for their posterity.

The children of such spirits intermarrying, could but produce men of

talent and enterprise, and women of beauty, intelligence, and virtue.

In the veins of these ran only streams of blue blood--such as filled

the veins of the leaders of the Crusades--such as warmed the hearts of

the O'Neals and O'Connors, of Wallace and Bruce, and animated the

bosoms of the old feudal barons of England, who extorted the great

charter of human liberty from King John. There was no mixture of the

pale Saxon to taint or dilute the noble current of the Anglo-Norman

blood which flowed through and fired the hearts of these descendants of

the nobility and gentry of Britain. They were the cavaliers in chivalry

and daring, and despised, as their descendants despised, the Roundheads

and their descendants, with their cold, dissembling natures,

hypocritical in religion as faithless in friendship, without one

generous emotion or ennobling sentiment.

It is not remarkable that conflict should ensue between races so

dissimilar in a struggle to control the Government: true to the

instincts of race, each contended for that which best suited their

genius and wants; and not at all remarkable that all the generous

gallantry in such a conflict should be found with the Celt, and all the

cruel rapacity and meanness with the Saxon. Their triumph, through the

force of numbers, was incomplete, until their enemies were tortured by

every cruelty of oppression, and the fabric of the Government dashed to

atoms. This triumph can only be temporary. The innate love of free

institutions, universal in the heart of the Celtic Southerner, will

_yet_ unite all the races to retrieve the lost. This done, victory is

certain.

The descendants of these pioneers have gone out to people the extended

domain reaching around the Gulf, and are growing into strength, without

abatement of the spirit of their ancestors. Very soon time and their

energies will repair the disasters of the recent conflict; and

reinvigorated, the shackles of the Puritan shall restrain no longer,

when a fierce democracy shall restore the Constitution, and with it the

liberty bequeathed by their ancestors.

With this race, fanaticism in religion has never known a place.

Rational and natural, they have ever worshipped with the heart and the

attributes of their faith. Truth, sincerity, love, and mercy have ever

marked their characters. Too honest to be superstitious, and too

sincere to be hypocrites, the concentrated love of freedom unites the

race, and the hatred of tyranny will stimulate the blood which shall

retrieve it from the dominion of the baser blood now triumphant and

rioting in the ruin they have wrought.

In the beginning of the settlements, and as soon as fears of the

inroads from the savages had subsided, attention was given to the

selection of separate and extended homes over the country, to the

opening of farms, and their cultivation. The first consideration was

food and raiment. All of this was to be the production of the farm and

home industry: grain enough was to be grown to serve the wants of the

family for bread, and to feed the stock; for this was to furnish the

meat, milk, and butter. Cotton enough to serve the wants of families,

together with the wool from the flock, and some flax, were of prime

consideration. All of this was prepared and manufactured into fabrics

for clothing and bedding at home. The seed from the cotton was picked

by hand; for, as yet, Whitney had not given them the cotton-gin. This

work was imposed most generally upon the children of families, white

and black, as a task at night, and which had to be completed before

going to bed; an ounce was the usual task, which was weighed and spread

before the fire; for it was most easily separated from the seed when

warm and dry. Usually some petty rewards stimulated the work. In every

family it was observed and commented upon, that these rewards excited

the diligence of the white children, but were without a corresponding

effect upon the black; and any one who has ever controlled the negro

knows that his labor is only in proportion to the coercion used to

enforce it. His capacity, physically, is equal to the white; but this

cannot be bought, or he persuaded to exert it of himself, and is given

only through punishment, or the fear of it. The removal of restraint is

to him a license to laziness; and the hope of reward, or the cravings

of nature, will only induce him to labor sufficiently to supply these

for immediate and limited relief.

Stock of every kind except horses was left to find a support in the

forest, and at that time, when their range was unlimited, they found it

in abundance. Increasing wants stimulated the cultivation of a market

crop to supply them, and indigo and tobacco were first resorted to.

Tobacco was the principal staple, and the method of its transportation

was extraordinary. As at the present day in Kentucky, it was pressed

into very large hogsheads. Upon these were pinned large wooden felloes,

forming the circle of a wheel around the hogshead at either end, and in

the centre of each head a large pin was inserted. Upon these pins were

attached shafts or thills, as to a cart, and to these teams, and thus

the hogshead was rolled along rough roads and through streams for

sometimes ninety miles to Augusta, for a market. When sold, the shafts

were reserved, and upon these was then erected a sort of box, into

which the few articles purchased were placed, and dragged home. These

articles almost universally consisted of some iron and steel, and a

little coffee and sugar, and sometimes a quarter of a pound of

tea--universally termed store-tea, to distinguish it from that made

from the root of the sassafras and the leaf of the cassia or

tepaun-bush.

Cotton was, to some little extent, cultivated near the seaboard in

Georgia and South Carolina, and cleaned of the seeds by a machine

similar to that used at the present day for preparing the sea-island

cotton for market. This was a tedious and troublesome method, and was

incapable of doing the work to any very great extent. Indigo, of a

superior quality to the American, was being produced in British India

and Central America, and the competition was reducing the price to the

cost of production. The same difficulty attended the growing of

tobacco. Virginia and Maryland, with their abundance of labor, were

competing, and cheapening the article to a price which made its

production unprofitable. At this juncture, Whitney invented the

cotton-gin, and the growth of cotton as a marketable crop commenced

upon a more extended scale. In a few years it became general--each

farmer growing more or less, according to his means. Some one man, most

able to do so, erected a gin-house, first in a county, then in each

neighborhood. These either purchased in the seed the cotton of their

neighbors, or ginned it and packed it for a certain amount of toll

taken from the cotton. This packing was done in round bales, and by a

single man, with a heavy iron bar, and was a most laborious and tedious

method; and the packages were in the most inconvenient form for

handling and transportation.

Up to this time the slave-trade had been looked upon most unfavorably

by the people of the South. Among the first sermons I remember to have

heard, was one depicting the horrors of this trade. I was by my

grandmother's side at Bethany, in Greene county, and, though a child, I

remember, as if of yesterday, the description of the manner of

capturing the African in his native wilds--how the mother and father

were murdered, and the boys and the girls borne away, and how England

was abused for the cruel inhumanity of the act. Although unused to the

melting mood, the old lady wiped from her eyes a tear, whether in

sorrow or sympathy for outraged humanity, or in compliment to the

pathos and power of her favorite preacher, I was too young to know or

have an opinion. I remember well, however, that she cried, for she

pinched me most unmercifully for laughing at her, and at home spanked

me for crying. Dear old grandmother! but yesterday I was at your grave,

where you have slept fifty-two years, and if I laughed above thy mould

at the memory of the many bouts we had more than sixty years ago, and,

from the blue bending above, thy spirit looked down in wrath upon the

unnatural outrage, be appeased ere I come; for I should fear to meet

thee, even in heaven, if out of humor! The roses bloomed above

you--sweet emblems of thy purity and rest--and there, close by you,

were the pear-trees, planted by your hands, around the roots of which

you gathered the rods of my reformation; for I was a truant child. You

meant it all for my good, no doubt; but to me it was passing through

purgatory then, to merit a future good in time. Ah! how well I remember

it--all of it. _Requiescat in pace_. I had almost irreverently said,

"Rest, cat, in peace."

It was at this period that the competition for accumulating money may

be said to have commenced in Middle Georgia. Labor became in great

demand, and the people began to look leniently upon the slave-trade.

The marching of Africans, directly imported, through the country for

sale, is a memory of sixty-five years ago. The demand had greatly

increased, and, with this, the price. The trade was to cease in 1808,

and the number brought over was daily augmenting, to hasten to make

from the traffic as much money as possible before this time should

arrive. The demand, however, was greater than could be supplied. From

house to house they were carried for sale. They were always young men

and women, or girls and boys, and their clothing was of the simplest

kind. That of the men and boys consisted of drawers, only reaching

midway the thigh, from the waist. The upper portions of the person and

the lower extremities were entirely nude. The females wore a chemise

reaching a few inches below the knee, leaving bare the limbs. This was

adopted for the purpose of exposing the person, as much as decency

would permit, for examination, so as to enable the purchaser to

determine their individual capacity for labor. This examination was

close and universal, beginning with an inspection of the teeth, which

in these young savages were always perfect, save in those where they

had been filed to a point in front. This was not uncommon with the

males. It was then extended to the limbs, and ultimately to the entire

person. They were devoid of shame, and yielded to this inspection

without the slightest manifestation of offended modesty. At first they

were indifferent to cooked food, and would chase and catch and eat the

grasshoppers and lizards with the avidity of wild turkeys, and seemed,

as those fowls, to relish these as their natural food.

From such is descended the race which our Christian white brothers of

the North have, in their devotion to their duty to God and their hatred

to us, made masters of our destiny. Our faith in the justice and

goodness of the same Divine Being bids us believe this unnatural and

destructive domination will not be permitted to endure for any lengthy

period. Could the curtain which veiled out the future sixty years ago,

have been lifted, and the vision of those then subduing the land been

permitted to pierce and know the present of their posterity, they would

then have achieved a separation from our puritanical oppressors, and

built for themselves and their own race, even if in blood, a separate

government, and have made it as nature intended it should be to this

favored land--a wise and powerful one.

Sooner or later these intentions of Divine wisdom are consummated. The

fallible nature of man, through ignorance or the foolish indulgence of

bad passions in the many, enable the few to delude and control the

many, and to postpone for a time the inevitable; but as assuredly as

time endures, nature's laws work out natural ends. Generations may pass

away, perhaps perish from violence, and others succeed with equally

unnatural institutions, making miserable the race, until it, like the

precedent, passes from the earth. Yet these great laws work on, and in

the end triumph in perfecting the Divine will.

To the wise and observant this design of the Creator is ever

apparent; to the foolish and wicked, never.

John Wesley had visited Savannah, and travelled through the different

settlements then in embryo, teaching the tenets and introducing the

simple worship of the church of his founding, after a method

established by himself, and which gave name and form to the sect, now,

and almost from its incipiency known as Methodist. This organization

and the tenets of its faith were admirably suited to a rude people, and

none perhaps could have been more efficient in forming and improving

such morals. Unpretending, simple in form, devoid of show or ceremony,

it appealed directly to the purer emotions of our nature, and through

the natural devotion of the heart lifted the mind to the contemplation

and inspired the soul with the love of God. Its doctrines, based upon

the purest morality, easily comprehensible, and promising salvation to

all who would believe, inspiring an enthusiasm for a pure life, were

natural, and naturally soon became wide-spread, and as the writer

believes, has done more in breaking away the shackles of ignorance and

debasing superstition from the mind, than any other system of worship

or doctrine of faith taught by man; and to this, in a great degree, is

due the freedom of thought, independence of feeling and action,

chivalrous bearing, and high honor of the Southern people. Inculcating

as it does the simple teachings of the gospel of Christ,--to live

virtuously--do no wrong--love thy neighbor as thyself, and unto all do

as you would be done by,--a teaching easy of comprehension, and which,

when sternly enforced by a pure and elevated public sentiment, becomes

the rule of conduct, and society is blessed with harmony and right.

This moral power is omnipotent for good, concentrating communities into

one without divisions or dissensions, to be wielded for good at once

and at all times. Nothing evil can result from such concentration of

opinions being directed by the vicious and wicked, so long as the moral

of this faith shall control the mind and heart.

Camp-meetings, an institution of this church, and which were first

commenced in Georgia, are a tradition there now. Here and there through

the country yet remains, in ruinous decay, the old stand or

extemporized pulpit from which the impassioned preacher addressed the

assembled multitude of anxious listeners; and around the square now

overgrown with brush-wood and forest-trees, prostrate and rotten, the

remains of the cabin tents may be seen, where once the hospitality of

the owners and worshippers was dispensed with a heartiness and

sincerity peculiar to the simple habits, and honest, kindly emotions of

a rude and primitive people.

How well do I remember the first of these meetings I ever witnessed! I

was a small lad, and rode behind my father on horseback to the ground.

It was sixty-five years ago. The concourse was large, consisting of the

people of all the country around--men, women, and children, white and

black. Around a square enclosing some six acres of ground, the tents

were arranged--arbors of green boughs cut from the adjoining forest

formed a shelter from the sun's rays. In front of all of these, shading

the entrance to the tent, under this friendly sheltering from the heat

of the sun, assembled the owners and the guests of each, in social and

unceremonious intercourse. This was strictly the habit of the young

people; and here, in evening's twilight, has been plighted many a vow

which has been redeemed by happy unions for life's journey, and to be

consummated when the cold weather came. In the rear of the tents were

temporary kitchens, presided over in most instances by some old,

trusted aunty of ebon hue, whose pride it was to prepare the meals for

her tent, and to hear her cooking praised by the preachers and the less

distinguished guests of master and mistress. The sermons were preached

in the morning, at noon, and at twilight, when all the multitude were

summoned to the grand central stand in the square of the encampment by

sounding a tin trumpet or ox-horn. My childish imagination was fired at

the sight of this assemblage. My wonder was, whence come all these

people? as converging from the radius around came the crowding

multitude, without order and without confusion--the farmer and his

brusque wife side by side, leading their flock and friends: he with an

ample chair of home manufacture slung by his side for the wife's

comfort as she devoutly listened to the pious brother's comforting

sermon--the guests and the young of the family following in respectful

silence, and at a respectful distance, all tending to the great arbor

of bushes covering the place of worship. Over all the space of the

encampment the under-brush had been carefully removed; but the great

forest-trees (for these encampments were always in a forest) were left

to shade as well as they might the pulpit-stand and grounds. All around

was dense forest, wild and beautiful as nature made it.

How well the scene and the worship accorded! There was congruity in

all--the woods, the tents, the people, and the worship. The impressions

made that day upon my young mind were renewed at many a camp-meeting in

after years; and so indelibly impressed as only to pass away with

existence.

The preacher rose upon his elevated platform, and, advancing to the

front, where a simple plank extending from tree to tree, before him,

formed a substitute for a table or desk, where rested the hymn-book and

Bible, commenced the service by reading a hymn, and then, line by line,

repeating it, to be sung by all his congregation.

Whoever has listened, in such a place, amidst a great multitude, to the

singing of that beautiful hymn commencing, "Come, thou fount of every

blessing," by a thousand voices, all in accord, and not felt the spirit

of devotion burning in his heart, could scarcely be moved should an

angel host rend the blue above him, and, floating through the ether,

praise God in song. In that early day of Methodism, very few of those

licensed to preach were educated men. They read the Bible, and

expounded its great moral truths as they understood them. Few of these

even knew that it had been in part originally written in the Hebrew

tongue, and the other portion in that of the Greeks; but he knew it

contained the promise of salvation, and felt that it was his mission to

preach and teach this way to his people, relying solely for his power

to impress these wonderful truths upon the heart by the inspiration of

the Holy Spirit. For this reason the sermons of the sect were never

studied or written, and their excellence was their fervor and

impassioned appeals to the heart and the wild imaginations of the

enthusiastic and unlearned of the land. Genius, undisciplined and

untutored by education, is fetterless, and its spontaneous suggestions

are naturally and powerfully effective, when burning from lips

proclaiming the heart's enthusiasm. Thus extemporizing orations almost

daily, stimulated the mind to active thought, and very many of these

illiterate young Methodist preachers became in time splendid orators.

It was the celebrated Charles James Fox who said to a young man just

entering Parliament, if he desired to become a great orator, and had

the genius and feeling from nature, all he had to do was to speak often

and learn to think on his feet. It is to this practice the lawyer and

the preacher owe the oratory which distinguish these above every other

class of men. And yet, how few of them ever attain to the eminence of

finished orators. Eloquence and oratory are by no means identical: one

is the attribute of the heart, the other of the head; and eloquence,

however unadorned, is always effective, because it is born of the

feelings; and there is ever a sympathy between the hearts of men, and

the words, however rude and original, which bubble up from the heart

freighted with its feelings, rush with electrical force and velocity to

the heart, and stir to the extent of its capacities. Oratory, however

finished, is from the brain, and is an art; it may convince the mind

and captivate the imagination, but never touches the heart or stirs the

soul. To awaken feelings in others, we must feel ourselves. Eloquence

is the volume of flame, oratory the shaft of polished ice; the one

fires to madness, the other delights and instructs.

Religion is the pathos of the heart, and must be awakened from the

heart's emotions. The imagination is the great attribute of the mind,

gathering and creating thought and inspiring feeling. Hence, the

peculiar system of the Methodists in their worship is the most

efficient in proselyting, and especially with a rude, imaginative

people.

The camp-meeting was an admirable device for this purpose, and its

abandonment by the sect is as foolish as would be that of a knight who

would throw away his sword as he was rushing to battle. Fashion is

omnipotent in religion, as in other things, and with the more general

diffusion of education, camp-meetings have come to be considered as

vulgar and unfashionable. To be vulgar, is to be common; to be common,

is to be natural. The masses, and especially in democratic communities,

must always be vulgar or common--must always be, in the main,

illiterate and rude; and it is for the conversion and salvation of

these multitudes the preacher should struggle, and in his efforts his

most efficient means should be used.

The camp-meeting, at night, when all the fire-stands are ablaze, and

the multitude are assembled and singing, is beyond description

picturesque: when, too, some eloquent and enthusiastic preacher is

stimulating to intense excitement the multitude around him with the

fervor of his words, and the wild, passionate manifestations of his

manner, to see the crowd swaying to and fro, to hear the groans and

sobs of the half-frenzied multitude, and, not unfrequently, the

maddened shriek of hysterical fear, all coming up from the

half-illuminated spot, is thrillingly exciting. And when the sermon is

finished, to hear all this heated mass break forth into song, the wild

melody of which floats, in the stillness of night, upon the breeze to

the listening ear a mile away, in cadences mournfully sweet, make the

camp-meeting among the most exciting of human exhibitions. In such a

school were trained those great masters of pulpit oratory, Pierce,

Wynans, Capers, and Bascomb. Whitfield was the great exemplar of these;

but none, perhaps, so imitated his style and manner as John Newland

Maffit and the wonderful Summerfield.

Like all that is great and enduring, the Methodist Church had its

beginning among the humble and lowly. Rocked in the cradle of penury

and ignorance, it was firmly fixed in the foundations of society,

whence it rose from its own purity of doctrine and simplicity of

worship to command the respect, love, and adoption of the highest in

the land, and to wield an influence paramount in the destinies of the

people and the Government. Its ministers are now the educated and

eloquent of the Church militant. Its institutions of learning are the

first and most numerous all over the South, and it has done for female

education in the South more than every other sect of Christians,

excepting, perhaps, the Roman Catholic. In the cause of education its

zeal is enlisted, and its organization is such as to bring a wonderful

power to operate upon the community in every section of the South and

West. That this will accomplish much, we have only to look to the

antecedents of the Church to determine. Like the coral insect, they

never cease to labor: each comes with his mite and deposits it; and,

from the humblest beginning, this assiduity and contribution builds up

great islands in the sea of ignorance--rich in soil, salubrious in

climate, and, finally, triumphant in the conceptions of the chief

architect--completing for good the work so humbly begun.

The Memories of Fifty Years Containing Brief Biographical Notices of Distinguished Americans, and Anecdotes of Remarkable Men; Interspersed with Scenes and Incidents Occurring during a Long Life of Observation Chiefly Spent in the Southwest · 第 8 / 33 章