THE ARRIVAL AND WELCOME AT RIVERLAWN
It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when the road-wagon drew up
in front of the mansion at Riverlawn. Less than a week before the
Northern family had left the deep snows and the icy cold of New
Hampshire, and the air of the Southern clime was comparatively mild and
soft. The magnolias were as green as in summer; certain flowers had
pushed their way out of the ground, and blossomed in the garden.
The young people in the wagon had been delighted with the ride, the air
was so mild, and everything was so new and strange. They had struck the
river road leading from the estate to the village, and the rest of the
way was along Bar Creek to the bridge which crossed it to the mansion.
They had passed Pink, the old negro who came with the baggage, at
Belgrade, where he had stopped to water his two horses. Levi Bedford had
talked all the way, pointing out every object of interest to the
new-comers, telling stories, repeating all the old jokes of the
locality, which were quite new to his audience.
As the manager wheeled his horses from the creek road upon the bridge,
he cracked his whip, which seemed to be the signal for the four spirited
horses to dance and prance, in order to make a proper display as they
reached the end of their journey. Gathered in the walks in front of the
house were all the servants of the mansion, and all the field-hands
belonging to the place, to welcome the family.
There were just fifty-one of them, Levi said, and they all broke out in
a yell, which was intended for a cheer, as the magnificent animals
danced up to the front door. It was a cordial welcome, and the "people"
put their whole souls into it. Noah Lyon took off his Derby hat and
waved it to the crowd; Deck and Artie followed his example, all of them
bowing; while Mrs. Lyon and the girls flaunted their handkerchiefs
vigorously to the assembled population of the plantation.
Most of them were somewhat shy at first, though they intended to give a
proper welcome to the family of the new proprietor, and they were rather
restrained in their demonstration; but as soon as the party waved their
hats and handkerchiefs, with pleasant smiles on their faces, all of them
shouted, "Glad to see you!" their enthusiasm being limited only by the
vigor of their voices and the strength of their lungs.
The Lyons were intensely amused at the earnestness of the demonstration,
and they laughed heartily. They retained their seats in the wagon after
it stopped, more interested in the gathering around them than in
anything else for the time. The crowd closed up around the vehicle in
order to obtain a nearer view of their new masters and mistresses. They
had known and loved as a patriarch the colonel, for he had always been
kind and indulgent to them. Unfortunately they also knew Titus Lyon, by
reputation if not personally, and for a month they had been wondering
whether the new proprietor was like the colonel or his Kentucky brother.
The "people" were of all ages, from the bald-headed old negro with a
flaxen fringe around his rear head on a level with his ears, down to the
infant in arms, whose toothless grin contrasted with the ivory display
of its mother. They were of all the hues of the colored race, from the
ebony face whereon charcoal could make no mark to the light saffron tint
of the octoroon.
There was a plentiful sprinkling of "mammies" and "uncles" among them,
for all the older ones are called by these names. But the great body of
them were young or middle-aged men and women, able-bodied and fit for
regular work. Noah Lyon and his wife were particularly struck with the
appearance of two girls sixteen to eighteen years old, who were nearly
as white as their own children. They were neatly and modestly dressed,
and both of them had very pretty faces. They were employed in the house
as waiters at the table, and in other general work.
"Glad to see you, mars'r!" shouted a score of the tribe in unison. "Glad
to see you, missus!" "Gib you welcome to Barcreek, mars'r and missus!"
"Glad to see de young mars'rs and missusses!"
Levi, with a very broad and cheerful smile upon his round face,
descended from the wagon with the reins in his hand, which he handed to
a mulatto whom he called Frank, who had been the colonel's coachman. He
proceeded to assist Mrs. Lyon to alight, and her husband followed her
without any of the assistance tendered to him, for he was only forty
years old, and almost as nimble as he had ever been. The manager handed
the girls to the ground as politely as though he had served his time as
a dancing-master, and the young ladies smiled upon him as sweetly as
though he had been a younger beau.
"This is Diana, Mrs. Lyon, the cook and housekeeper," said Levi, taking
a yellow woman of fifty by the arm, and presenting her to the new lady
of the house.
"Diana, missus, and not Dinah," added the housekeeper, as the lady took
her hand.
"I will always call you Diana, and never Dinah," replied Mrs. Lyon. "I
have no doubt we shall be good friends, though I am not used to your
ways in Kentucky."
"This girl is Sylvie," said Diana, drawing the elder of the two
octoroons into the presence of the lady; and her color was light enough
to make her blushes transparent. "This is Julie," she added, bringing
the other of the pretty pair to the front. "Both of them wait on the
table, and 'tend on missus. Both of them come from New Orleans when they
were little girls, and both of them speak French like a pair of
mocking-birds."
"I am very happy to see you, girls, and I think we shall get along very
well together, for I have never been used to having any one to wait on
me," said the lady, as she took each of them by the hand; and they were
so pretty that she was disposed to kiss them.
The rest of the family were presented in like manner to the house
servants, and Levi introduced them to the rest of the people in a mass.
The Lyons all felt that they had suddenly become lions, at least so far
as Riverlawn was concerned. Noah had been a prosperous farmer in New
Hampshire, engaged in some outside operation in which he had been
successful; but even in haying-time he had never had more than three
hired men. This avalanche of half a hundred servants suddenly attached
to him was a new and novel experience; and the situation was just as
strange to his wife and the young people.
Aunty Diana conducted the family into the house with many bows and
flourishes, followed by the pretty octoroons, and ushered them into the
drawing-room, which had seldom been used when the colonel was alive; for
he was as simple in his manners as Noah, though he felt obliged to keep
up the style of the mansion.
"Help you take your things off, missus?" said Diana to Mrs. Lyon, while
Sylvie and Julie tendered their services to Dorcas and Hope.
"We should like to go to our rooms, Diana," replied the lady. "I suppose
they are all ready for us."
"All ready, missus."
"Of course you can take your choice of the rooms, Mrs. Lyon," interposed
Levi, who had come into the house as soon as he had sent the people to
their cottages. "There are eight rooms on the second floor, besides two
company chambers; and I suppose Diana has already picked out one for the
owner and his wife."
"You can take just what room you like, missus, but I picked out the
colonel's chamber for mars'r and missus, 'cause it is the biggest, has a
dressing-room and four great closets. I think that one suit missus
best," added Diana.
"We will all go up-stairs and look at the rooms," replied Mrs. Lyon.
She concluded to take the colonel's room, to which Noah assented; and it
was a palatial apartment to both of them. The girls were next provided
with rooms, and the two octoroons were unremitting in their attentions
to them. Though they knew that these girls were slaves, they treated
them like sisters, and before the day was over they were fast friends;
for both of them were utterly devoid of any Southern prejudices against
those who were so nearly of their own color. They were disposed to treat
all the servants kindly, but they had not the same feeling towards those
of ebony hue.
The same sentiment prevailed through the family; and as a rule it
pervaded most of the enlightened families of the South. The girls as
well as the mother--and Dorcas and Artie looked upon and called Mrs.
Lyon by this endearing name--had been accustomed to wait upon
themselves, and they found it rather difficult to economize the willing
hands of Sylvie and Julie. But when Pink arrived with the trunks and
other baggage, the field-hands "toted" them to the proper chambers, and
the aid of the servants was very welcome, for both of them were tired
after the long journey they had made.
As the great clock in the spacious hall below struck six, the family
were summoned to supper. Levi acted as master of ceremonies, for Diana
was busy in the kitchen, with her two assistants; but he seemed to have
some doubts about seating himself at his employer's table, though he had
always had a place there in the colonel's time.
"Sit here, if you please, Levi, and always consider yourself as one of
the family," said Noah, after he had asked Deck to take the second seat
on the right, giving the manager the first, which is the seat of honor;
and the question of Levi's position at Riverlawn was settled once for
all.
"Thank you, Major Lyon," replied he, as he took the place assigned to
him. "I always sat at the table with Colonel Lyon, even when he had
guests; but it isn't always the rule with planters to have the overseer
at his table, and I am much obliged to you for your consideration."
"When I had two or three hired men on my farm, they always came to the
table with me, and would have thought they were abused if they had been
placed at a separate board," laughed the embryo planter. "But they were
the 'mud-sills' of the North, you know."
"I was raised in Tennessee, Major, and was tolerably well educated. I
was in business for myself in Shelbyville, the capital of our county,
which was named for one of my ancestors. But I did not succeed, for the
place was not big enough. I bought some nice horses of Colonel Lyon, and
for some reason he took a fancy to me."
"I don't think that was very strange," added Noah.
"When I failed, he wanted me to come and manage this place for him; and
I have been here ever since. He paid me well, and I have always done the
best I could for him. He was a good man; and it looks to me just as
though his successor was as good a man as he was."
"Thank you, Levi; I believe we shall be friends."
"Betwixt you and me, Major," continued the manager in a low tone, "when
the colonel's health began to be rather shaky, though I had no idea he
was so near his end, I had a mortal dread that a certain other man would
come into possession of this place. Excuse me for saying that, but I
couldn't help it. Since I met you this noon, Major, I have been lifted
up to the seventh heaven."
Noah did not deem it wise to make any reply to this remark then; but he
intended to inquire more particularly in regard to his Kentucky brother
when he had an opportunity; and it appeared that the manager had some
very pronounced opinions in regard to Titus. He changed the subject, and
continued to eat his supper.
The meal was elaborate enough for a family feast. After the fried ham
and bacon, the fried chicken, with baked potatoes and the nicest white
cornbread the family had ever eaten, came hot biscuits, waffles, and
griddle-cakes, and cake of several kinds, which were fully approved by
Mrs. Lyon. Diana came in before the party rose from the table, and the
praises bestowed upon her handiwork in the kitchen would have made her
blush if she had been as light-colored as the two girls that waited upon
the table.
When Noah Lyon went to his room after supper, and was alone there, he
took from his pocket the letter from his deceased brother which Colonel
Cosgrove had given him. It was with no little emotion that he broke the
cumbrous seals. It looked very much like a mystery to him, for the
estate had been duly divided in the will.
It was a very kindly and brotherly letter for the first page. Then the
colonel stated that Noah had by the time he received the letter
discovered that the value of the fifty-one negroes on the estate had not
been included in his valuation of the property. They were worth at least
twenty-five thousand dollars. They had been given to him with the
plantation, but he enjoined it upon him on no account to sell one of
them.
In the letter he found another as carefully sealed as the one that
enclosed it, directed to his successor, with the direction: "Not to be
opened till five years from the date of my death. Duncan Lyon."
The letter evidently related to the slaves on the plantation; but the
mystery in regard to them was still unsolved.