Collected Works of Frances Trollope
Page 356
She was a person of rather eccentric habits, but universally beloved and respected throughout the neighbourhood. Of her origin but little was known, her immense fortune having been left her by a young nephew, who had himself died almost immediately after he had come into possession of it. Some circumstances relating to this nephew, and to the manner in which he both obtained and bequeathed his fortune, became the subject of a narrative published in England some few years ago; but of this notoriety Mrs. Clio Whitlaw was herself wholly unconscious; and so great was the humble simplicity of her character, that she would have thought it greatly more probable that her dog Watch should have been put into a book than herself.
It was on the question of inviting or not inviting this lady that the colonel and Mrs. Beauchamp now differed, the former being strongly in favour of the measure, and the latter as strongly against it. A good many pro and con arguments were uttered on the occasion, which it is unnecessary to repeat, the whole strength of Mrs. Beauchamp’s objections resting in the words, “she is too vulgar, colonel; she is, indeed, a great deal too vulgar to be introduced to such company as we have got here. Only just think what it would be if Mrs. Allen Barnaby was to describe Miss Clio Whitlaw in her book as a first-rate American lady?”
“Mrs. Allen Barnaby is much too superior-minded a lady to do any such thing, my dear,” replied the colonel. “Her thoughts are altogether fixed on the great national question of slaves or no slaves, and that being the case, there is small chance that she should turn aside from her wise and enlightened reasonings upon this important subject for the sake of writing down the queer ways of Miss Clio?”
“That is true, too, colonel; I can’t say but what it is,” rejoined the lady; “but do only remember the look of her cap, and the make of her gown! and then think of the beautiful dresses of Mrs. Allen Barnaby?”
“And do you, my dear, just think of the mischief our queer old neighbour is for ever doing by upholding the Christian privileges of the slaves, as she calls them, and of the good chance there may be that the great cleverness that this writing lady brings forward on the subject may work a change in her foolish notions; and then you may just as well remember at the same time, if you please, that nobody ever heard who Mrs. Whitlaw’s heirs are to be; and then it may come into your head, perhaps, that it may be best not to affront her by leaving her out.”
“Have your own way, then, colonel,” was hereupon the conclusion of the dialogue, and the invitation to Mrs. Whitlaw was despatched with the rest. During the three days which intervened before the arrival of this first great inaugural dinner-party, the company assembled at Big-Gang Bank amused themselves in various ways, according to their respective inclinations. Mrs. Allen Barnaby walked forth in the cool of the evening with the observant Colonel Beauchamp at her side, and her note-book open in her hand, taking notes upon every object that he pointed out to her especial attention.
“Perfection of agricultural science,” were the words inscribed after his showing her how carefully the rice grounds were kept in order, that the crop, as he coaxingly observed, might be as perfect as it ought to be for the London market; and when they reached the negro village in which the largest portion of his slaves dwelt, and found them all dressed out in their best attire, and dancing away to the squeaking of one of their own fiddles, while all the teeth of all the tribe were displayed by one broad universal grin, he did not think it necessary to mention that this exhibition of excessive gaiety was got up for her especial benefit — but permitted her to write “None but those who have witnessed the blissful scene with their own eyes, can form an idea of that unequalled moral felicity which is enjoyed by the negro slaves of the United States of America. Their lives are passed in the enjoyment of every blessing that the heart of man can desire.” As sentences such as these became multiplied on her pages, the devotion of the colonel and his lady increased to such a degree, that Major Allen Barnaby, who thought that as a looker-on he saw the very pith and marrow of the game, began to hint to his lady that it would be a pity not to put the affection of their wealthy hosts to the proof at once, by simply requesting a loan of a couple of thousand pounds or so. The answer he received from his wife upon making this proposal, speaks volumes in honour of the acute nature of feminine observation, when stimulated by the lively light of genius. This answer was preceded by a little laugh, and then followed these words —
“And you really think that the old gentleman would come down with his cash, Donny, do you? Ask him, if you have a mind that the beautiful bubble should burst about your ears at once, and besprinkle you with something more disagreeable than soap-suds; but if you think it as well to let me go on my own way, just let it alone, and take my word for it that as the love of his dear dollars is the beginning and end of his love of me, the asking him to part with them would cure the tender passion at once. I have never seen anybody, either at home or abroad, Donny, your own handsome self not excepted, my dear, who seemed to me to dote upon the needful so heartily as this sleepy colonel. Will you believe me, major, or will you not?”
“I should be a precious great fool, my dear,” he replied, “after all that I have seen of you already, should I begin to doubt you now. Have it your own way, my Barnaby, and I will just go quietly on with the piquet. I suspect you are right about his affection for his dollars, for I see he hates losing. But we can’t help that, you know; it won’t do for us to be here for nothing.”
“Oh no! certainly not. I leave that all in your own hands. Of course you don’t let luck run against him the whole night. Winning one game is like mixing one little bit of leaven into a whole bushel of dough. He begins every game afterwards under the effects of it, and you must just give him enough to prevent him turning short round upon you, and saying that he had rather not play any more.”
The major chucked his wife under the chin, gave her a very-satisfactory nod, and so the discussion ended.
The rest of the party managed very tolerably well; what with the novelty of the scene, the prodigious quantity of eating and drinking, and the extreme hospitality of their entertainers, they contrived to pass those days pleasantly enough. Miss Matilda Perkins was perhaps the only one of the party not exactly satisfied with the change from New Orleans. There a vast many gentlemen had felt it was advantageous to be decidedly among the popular English party, even though a little flirtation with Miss Matilda was the price they were obliged to pay for it; but here the only single gentleman of the company had most decidedly devoted all his Perkins’s partiality to the elder sister, appealing to forget altogether that any such person as the interesting Matilda existed. Tornorino, excepting during the hours in which by special agreement he was in attendance upon his father-in-law, appeared wholly devoted to the pleasant occupations of making himself comfortable, and keeping his wife in good humour; while his lady amused herself much to her heart’s content, in demonstrating her conjugal affection, dressing herself in orange blossoms, and watching the odd ways of the blackamoors. And Egerton, how did he amuse himself? Did he philosophise with Mrs. Allen Barnaby on the admirable effects of slavery, or did he recreate his spirits by playing piquet with the major? No! He was as little inclined for the one occupation as for the other, and actually wasted the time that he might have spent in becoming acquainted with their strongly-marked and peculiarly interesting characters, in silently watching the domestic arrangements of a slave plantation, in conversing on terms a little less hostile than heretofore with Annie, and in making acquaintance with her young slave Nina.
It is impossible to deny that during this process his dislike of the American heiress became considerably less inveterate than it had been during the early part of their acquaintance; but the most important step made towards the removal of this very unamiable feeling was by the lucky discovery that the young lady was not endowed with any accomplishments whatever. She never even hinted at having the slightest intention of taking a degree; and this species of extraordinary humility, together with the discovery of a few other qua
lities and peculiarities that he certainly rather liked than not, induced him to talk to her a good deal, and to pay her altogether a good deal of attention. The terms too, on which she seemed to be living with the interesting young girl, whose personal attendance upon her was, as may be observed in all plantation families, greatly more close and intimate than can be found in the same relation elsewhere, the tone of this, and the mutual affection which so evidently existed between them, tended very greatly to remove the feeling of dislike which he had conceived for all slaveholding individuals whatever. One consequence of this was, that he not only talked a good deal to Annie, but to Nina too. This delicately-formed young girl, with her large soft eyes, and beautiful teeth, was certainly as pretty a creature as it was possible for a black girl to be; and if an individual instance might be taken as proof, her intelligence might have gone far towards settling the disputed question on the power and extent of negro intellect. It is true, indeed, that her mistress’s remarkable neglect of all the higher branches of abstract science, had prevented this touchstone from being applied to her powers of mind; but all that it had been in her power to acquire she had acquired rapidly, and Egerton’s carefully cultivated acquaintance with her, while it went far towards exonerating Annie herself from the odious stigma which his heart attached to the holding a slave, convinced him more strongly than ever that there was nothing to be found in the nature of the negro race to justify in the slightest degree the atrocious tyranny by which they have been separated from their fellow-creatures, and branded as beings of an inferior race. Nothing is more interesting, when such thoughts and speculations occupy the mind, than a personal investigation of the subject by means of conversing with some individual specimen of this stranger race, whenever accident gives an opportunity, and it was for this reason, as well as for a slight latent wish to know a little more about the mistress, that Frederic Egerton bestowed so large a portion of his attention upon the maid.
The first two or three days of this rather singular reunion at Big-Gang Bank were thus passed by the different individuals of which it was composed, all of them, perhaps, looking forward with more or less curiosity to the enlargement of the circle by the grand dinner-party of which they had pretty constantly heard mention. It was on the evening of the third day, which had been one of extreme heat, but which, as the sun went down, became delightful by the aid of a gentle breeze that Annie, either moved thereto by the repeated suggestions of her sable monitor, or by her own kind-hearted inclination to be civil to her queer old friend, proposed to the ladies that they should take a walk on the extensive light brown esplanade before the house, which it was the custom of the country to denominate the “lawn.” All the party, gentlemen as well as ladies, seemed to relish the proposal exceedingly, and in truth the air at that moment blowing through the open blinds, was such as to tempt the laziest of mortals to a stroll. Not, however, that either the major or his son-in-law would have yielded to the temptation had not Colonel Beauchamp been still fast asleep; but that being the case, they too obeyed the summons of the young lady, and sallied forth with the rest into the portico, rambling onward over the almost crackling surface of the much-scorched lawn.
At the end of the inclosure they reached a gate, upon the latch of which Annie placed her hand, saying to her mother as she did so— “I will just step over, mamma, if you please, and inquire for Mrs. Whitlaw. I should not like to meet her at dinner till I had called upon her. I will be back again in time to make tea.”
“Why should we not all go, Annie?” returned her mother. “You know the old lady is very fond of being visited by strangers, and I think our friends may like to see the place; it is quite a curiosity in some ways. What say you, gentlemen and ladies?”
“Why, as for me, my dear lady,” replied Mrs. Allen Barnaby, to whom Mrs. Beauchamp had seemed to chiefly address herself, “I must confess that in this hot climate I do not feel equal to a great deal of walking. But don’t mind me. I can return alone.”
“My!” exclaimed Mrs. Beauchamp, perfectly frightened at the proposal. “Fancy me letting you walk back alone! I will go back with you with the very greatest of pleasures; and, indeed, I never should have thought of your risking your most precious health by a long walk, but Mrs. Whitlaw’s beautiful place isn’t more than ten minutes from this.”
“Oh! well then, we won’t part company,” replied Mrs. Allen Barnaby, obligingly. And thus Annie, considerably to her surprise, and perhaps not very much to her satisfaction, found herself at the head of an invading army of nine persons, preparing to make their way into the territory of her old friend, who she well knew was not in the habit, notwithstanding her enormous wealth, of being at all times ready to receive company. But this little embarrassment served the young lady rightly; for she had been plotting, and plotting feebly — a weakness which generally insures, and always merits, failure. Had she, when the wish for making this visit seized her, quietly invited her still favoured protégée, Miss Louisa, to accompany her, and only contrived to make the request in the hearing of Mr. Frederic Egerton, there is every reason to suppose that she would have been accompanied to the house of her friend exactly in the manner she wished; but as it was, she had no choice left her but to proceed with her mamma’s cortège to penetrate into the-peaceful precincts of Portico Lodge.
“We are rather a large party, to be sure,” observed Mrs.
Beauchamp, as they proceeded; “but our Annie is such a favourite that she may do anything, the odd old lady would never be angry with her. Indeed, the people in the neighbourhood do say,” continued Mrs. Beauchamp, with a smile, “that Annie has got a very tolerably good chance of coming in for a share of the great fortune she will leave behind her, for she has not a relation in the world, and it is quite certain that she takes more pleasure in our Annie’s company than in that of anybody else. Our girl will be a fine fortune altogether if that should happen.”
Miss Beauchamp was, at the moment when this was spoken, in rather earnest conversation with Mr. Egerton; but she suddenly stopped, and turning to her mother said, with a good deal of eagerness —
“I wish, mamma, you would never say that again, and likewise that you would never think it. I know, as I have often told you before, mamma, that you are mistaken. Mrs. Whitlaw has no relations, but she has friends as dear to her as the very nearest.”
“Well, Annie, you always scold me about it, I know,” replied her mother, laughing; “but it is not my notion only, but that of everybody in the country besides.”
“It is rather hard upon her,” replied her daughter, colouring, “that she should run the risk of being abused when she dies, for not doing what she never gave the slightest reason to suppose she intended to do while she lived. But do not let us talk any more about such nonsense. Here we are, and there she is, dear good old soul, busy as usual, tying up her darling Virginian creeper to the pillars of the portico.”
As strange a figure, perhaps, as was ever looked upon was, in effect, now visible, employed as Annie described, with a huge basket of shreds and nails beside her, a hammer in her hand, and her lanky person stretching itself from the top step of a ladder, which rested against a part of the building. Her head was totally uncovered, save by her own gray hair, and her dress, which was of the richest crimson satin, was tucked up through a pair of pocket holes, leaving distinctly visible two very slender legs, terminated by feet nearly as long as themselves.
Patty, the moment she descried this remarkable figure, burst into a shout of unmitigated laughter; upon which, Mrs. Beauchamp looked vexed, and the eyes of Annie expressed a degree of indignation which immediately suggested to the acute mind of Mrs. Allen Barnaby the necessity of putting some restraint upon their fashionable feelings, in order to conceal the ridicule which must naturally arise in the lively minds of herself and daughter upon the sight of such remote specimens of the natives.
“Do be quiet, Patty!” she exclaimed, in an accent of chiding.
“I know very well that you are only laughing a
t me, just because my foot slipped, I suppose; but because I know it, that is no rule. that everybody else should, and therefore I beg you’ll be quiet, and not expose yourself by your wild spirits so.”
As Madame Tornorino had fortunately remarked the heightened colour of Mrs. Beauchamp, and understood thereby something of the effect which her vivacity had produced, her mamma escaped the sharp rejoinder she would otherwise have received in return for her admonition; but Patty, who had a large portion of her female parent’s admirable abilities, not only read in the eyes of Annie, and the cheeks of her mother that they were waxing wroth, but remembered with a degree of wisdom almost beyond her years, that she and her Don were just at present living upon the fat of the land, without hearing a word about the costliness of it from her papa and mamma, a variety in their mode of existence that was extremely agreeable; she therefore immediately ceased laughing, and said —
“My goodness, mamma, I wish you wouldn’t tumble about so, it is enough to make the dog laugh. But it is just like you, is’nt it? You are so uncommonly fat and clumsy.”
This lively little dialogue brought them to a spot sufficiently near for the sound of their approach to be audible to the lady on the ladder, who, turning her head, uttered the national “Oh my!” and began to descend as rapidly as her declining strength permitted.
“Now this is kind and neighbour-like,” she said, extending both her thin brown hands, one of which was very cordially taken by Mrs. Beauchamp, and the other by Annie.
“I did want to see you again, my pretty dear,” she added, smiling kindly upon the latter, “I always think that the place begins to look dismal when you have been a good spell away. And who are all these ladies and gentlemen, Madame Beauchamp? Company from the east I calculate.”