Marriages—Amusements—Rural excursions, &c. among the Albanians.
IT was in this manner that the young colonist made the transition from
boyhood to manhood; from the disengaged and careless bachelor, to the
provident and thoughtful father of a family; and thus was spent that
period of life, so critical in polished society, to those whose
condition exempts them from manual labour. Love, undiminished by any
rival passion, and cherished by innocence and candour, was here fixed by
the power of early habit, and strengthened by similarity of education,
tastes, and attachments. Inconstancy, or even indifference among married
couples, was unheard of, even where there happened to be a considerable
disparity in point of intellect. The extreme affection they bore their
mutual offspring, was a bond that forever endeared them to each other.
Marriage, in this colony, was always early, very often happy, and very
seldom, indeed, interested. When a man had no son, there was nothing to
be expected with a daughter but a well-brought-up female slave, and the
furniture of the best bed-chamber. At the death of her father, she
obtained another division of his effects, such as he thought she needed
or deserved, for there was no rule in these cases.
Such was the manner in which those colonists began life; nor must it be
thought that those were mean or uninformed persons. Patriots,
magistrates, generals, those who were afterwards wealthy, powerful, and
distinguished, all—except a few elder brothers, occupied by their
possessions at home—set out in the same manner; and, in after life, even
in the most prosperous circumstances, they delighted to recount the
“humble toils and destiny obscure,” of their early years.
The very idea of being ashamed of any thing that was neither vicious nor
indecent, never entered an Albanian head. Early accustomed to this noble
simplicity, this dignified candour, I cannot express the contempt and
disgust I felt at the shame of honourable poverty. The extreme desire of
concealing our real condition, and appearing what we are not, that
peculiarly characterizes, I had almost said disgraces, the northern part
more particularly of this island. I have often wondered how this vile
sentiment, that undermines all true greatness of mind, should prevail
more here than in England, where wealth, beyond a doubt, is more
respected, at least preponderates more over birth, and heart, and mind,
and many other valuable considerations. As a people, we certainly are
not sordid, why then should we descend to the meanness of being ashamed
of our condition, while we have not done any thing to degrade ourselves?
Why add a sting to poverty, and a plume to vanity, by the poor
transparent artifice that conceals nothing, and only changes pity into
scorn?
Before I quit the subject of Albanian manners, I must describe their
amusements, and some other peculiarities, in their modes of life. When I
say their amusements, I mean those in which they differed from most
other people. Such as they had in common with others, require no
description. They were exceedingly social, and visited each other very
frequently, beside the regular assembling together in their porches,
every fine evening. Of the more substantial luxuries of the table, they
knew little, and of the formal and ceremonious parts of good breeding,
still less.
If you went to spend a day any where, you were received in a manner, we
should think, very cold. No one rose to welcome you; no one wondered you
had not come sooner, or apologized for any deficiency in your
entertainment. Dinner, which was very early, was served exactly in the
same manner as if there were only the family. The house, indeed, was so
exquisitely neat and well regulated, that you could not surprise them;
and they saw each other so often and so easily, that intimates made no
difference. Of strangers they were shy—not by any means from want of
hospitality, but from a consciousness that people who had little to
value themselves on but their knowledge of the modes and ceremonies of
polished life, disliked their sincerity, and despised their simplicity.
If you showed no insolent wonder, but easily and quietly adopted their
manners, you would receive from them not only very great civility but
much essential kindness. Whoever has not common sense and common
gratitude enough to pay this tribute of accommodation to those among
whom he is destined for the time to live, must of course be an
insulated, discontented being—and come home railing at the people whose
social comforts he disdained to partake. After sharing this plain and
unceremonious dinner, which might, by the by, chance to be a very good
one, but was invariably that which was meant for the family, tea was
served in at a very early hour; and here it was that the distinction
shown to strangers commenced. Tea here, was a perfect regale,
accompanied by various sorts of cakes unknown to us, cold pastry, and
great quantities of sweetmeats and preserved fruits of various kinds,
and plates of hickory and other nuts, ready cracked. In all manner of
confectionary and pastry, these people excelled; and having fruit in
great abundance, which cost them nothing, and getting sugar home at an
easy rate, in return for their exports to the West-Indies, the quantity
of these articles used in families, otherwise plain and frugal, was
astonishing. Tea was never unaccompanied with some of these petty
articles; but for strangers, a great display was made. If you staid
supper, you were sure of a most substantial though plain one. In this
meal they departed, out of compliment to the strangers, from their usual
simplicity. Having dined between twelve and one, you were quite prepared
for it. You had either game or poultry roasted, and always shell-fish in
the season; you had also fruit in abundance. All this with much neatness
but no form. The seeming coldness with which you were first received,
wore off by degrees. They could not accommodate their topics to you, and
scarcely attempted it. But the conversation of the old, though limited
in regard to subjects, was rational and easy, and had in it an air of
originality and truth, not without its attractions. That of the young
was natural and playful, yet full of localities, which lessened its
interest to a stranger, but which were extremely amusing when you became
one of the initiated.
Their amusements were marked by a simplicity, which, to strangers,
appeared rude and childish; (I mean those of the younger class.) In
spring, eight or ten of the young people of one company, or related to
each other, young men and maidens, would set out together in a canoe, on
a kind of rural excursion, of which amusement was the object. Yet so
fixed were their habits of industry, that they never failed to carry
their work-baskets with them, not as a form, but as an ingredient.
necessarily mixed with their pleasures. They had no attendants—and
steered a devious course of four, five, or perhaps more, miles, till
they arrived at some of the beautiful islands with which this fine river
abounded, or at some sequestered spot on its banks, where delicious wild
fruits, or particular conveniences for fishing, afforded some
attraction. There they generally arrived about nine or ten o’clock,
having set out in the cool and early hour of sunrise. Often they met
another party, going, perhaps, to a different place, and joined them, or
induced them to take their route. A basket, with tea, sugar, and the
other usual provisions for breakfast, with the apparatus for cooking
it—a little rum and fruit, for making cool, weak punch, the usual
beverage in the middle of the day, and now and then some cold pastry,
was the sole provision; for the great affair was to depend on the sole
exertions of the boys, in procuring fish, wild ducks, &c., for their
dinner. They were all, like Indians, ready and dexterous with the axe,
gun, &c. Whenever they arrived at their destination, they sought out a
dry and beautiful spot opposite to the river, and in an instant, with
their axes, cleared so much superfluous shade or shrubbery as left a
semicircular opening, above which they bent and twined the boughs, so as
to form a pleasant bower, while the girls gathered dried branches, to
which one of the youths soon set fire with gunpowder, and the breakfast,
a very regular and cheerful one, occupied an hour or two; the young men
then set out to fish, or perhaps to shoot birds, and the maidens sat
busily down to their work, singing and conversing with all the ease and
gaiety the bright serenity of the atmosphere and beauty of the
surrounding scene were calculated to inspire. After the sultry hours had
been thus employed, the boys brought their tribute from the river or the
wood, and found a rural meal prepared by their fair companions, among
whom were generally their sisters and the chosen of their hearts. After
dinner they all set out together to gather wild strawberries, or
whatever other fruit was in season, for it was accounted a reflection to
come home empty-handed. When wearied of this amusement, they either
drank tea in their bower, or returning, landed at some friend’s on the
way, to partake of that refreshment. Here, indeed,
“Youths’ free spirit, innocently gay,
Enjoyed the most that innocence could give.”
Another of their summer amusements was going to the bush, which was thus
managed: a party of young people set out in little open carriages,
something in the form of a gig, of which every family had one; every one
carried something with him, as, in these cases, there was no hunting to
add provision. One brought wine for negus, another tea and coffee of a
superior quality, a third a pigeon pie; in short, every one brought
something, no matter how trifling, for there was no emulation about the
extent of the contribution. In this same bush, there were spots to which
the poorer members of the community retired, to work their way with
patient industry, through much privation and hardship, compared to the
plenty and comfort enjoyed by the rest. They perhaps could only afford
to have one negro-woman, whose children, as they grew up, became to
their master a source of plenty and ease: but in the mean time, the good
man wrought hard himself, with a little occasional aid sent him by his
friends. He had plenty of the necessaries of life, but no luxuries. His
wife and daughters milked the cows and wrought at the hay, and his house
was on a smaller scale than the older settlers had theirs, yet he had
always one neatly-furnished room. A very clean house, with a pleasant
portico before it—generally a fine stream beside his dwelling, and some
Indian wigwams near it. He was wood-surrounded, and seemed absolutely to
live in the bosom of nature, screened from all the artificial ills of
life; and those spots, cleared of incumbrances, yet rich in native
luxuriance, had a wild originality about them, not easily described. The
young parties, or sometimes elder ones, who set out on this woodland
excursion, had no fixed destination; they went generally in the
forenoon, and when they were tired of going on the ordinary road, turned
into the _bush_, and wherever they saw an inhabited spot, with the
appearance of which they were pleased, went in with all the ease of
intimacy, and told them they were come to spend the afternoon there. The
good people, not in the least surprised at this incursion, very calmly
opened the reserved apartments, or if it were very hot, received them in
the portico. The guests produced their stores, and they boiled their
tea-kettle, and provided cream, nuts, or any peculiar dainty of the
woods which they chanced to have; and they always furnished bread and
butter, which they had excellent of their kinds. They were invited to
partake of the collation, which they did with great ease and frankness;
then dancing, or any other amusement that struck their fancy, succeeded.
They sauntered about the bounds in the evening, and returned by
moonlight. These good people felt not the least embarrassed at the
rustic plainness of every thing about them: they considered themselves
as on the way, after a little longer exertion of patient industry, to
have every thing that the others had; and their guests thought it an
agreeable variety, in this abrupt manner, to visit their sequestered
abodes.
-------