SOUTHERN I s\j PLANTER I CIAL JLIFE, OLO SOUTH >rnia al ABNEY SMEDES - V Ai. v : \" *. A SOUTHERN PLANTER ft* ^ ,. .,. ^. . ^. ., ,. ^ ., . ,,.,..^ ^ ^ , 4 ^ , . . . * ft ft ft A * ft ft ft ft SOUTHERN ft \ ft ft ft PLANTER ft ft w it. ft ft ft ft ft Social Life in the Old South * * ft ft ft By ft ft ft Susan Dabney Smedes * * * ft ft * * ft ft * ft * ft . k 0, -^ * ft ft ft ft * * * ft ^^^iLil^w ^fyt^^Si^v^r^'s^SL * ft ^3S&j6 /fe^^^JMBi^THr'lliHr^JlJ-^^^ * ft ^j^^S^S^^^ddffdfsiflf^ffSi^iii!^ * ft f&L fK^l~%w BBWBIBIilf'^iflfe iLl wJuoiV * ft ^**flH^y J^s k*&^vl9IIHB^ * ft * ^^BS88^^ ^ *^ * ft ft ft ft ft * * * * ft l^cto Horft y * ft : ft JAMES POTT Gf COMPANY * * * * ft ~ i 900 * ::*: ** The memory of so honest and noble a life deserves a suitable record." WM. M. GBBEN, isfiop of Mississippi. ' A priceless heritage for his posterity ; the record of a life crowned with honorable deeds." Extract from a letter of Hon. B. BARKBDAI.E, of Miss Copyright, 1887, by SUSAN DABNEY SMEDBB. PREFACE. TH"E materials for these memorials w^rc collected a few weeks after the death of my father. There was no thought then of having them made public. They were gotten together that the memory and example of his life should not pass away from his grandchildren, many of whom are yet too young to appreciate his character. They will come to mature years in a time when slavery will bo a thing of the past. They will hear much of the wickedness of slavery and of slave-owners. I wish them to learn of a good master: of one who cared for his servants affection- ately and yet with a firm hand, when there was need, and with a full sense of his responsibility. There were many like him. Self-interest one might, with truth, say self-protection was with most masters a sufficient incentive to kindness to slaves, when there was no higher motive. My father was so well assured 'of the contentment and well-being of his slaves, while he owned them, and saw so much of their suffering, which ho was not able to relieve after they were freed, that he did not, for many years, believe that it was better for them to bo free than held as slaves. But during the last winter of his life he expressed the opinion that it was well for them to have their freedom. It has been suggested by friends, in whose judgment I trust, that these memorials may throw a kindly light on Southern masters for others, as well as for my 3 4 PREFACE. father's descendants. Should this be so, I shall not regret laying bare much that is private and sacred. He was like his Jaqueline ancestors in appearance. The "grand look" of the first Jaquelines and what wo knew as the "Jaqueline black eyes" were his. Several times in his life he was asked as a favor by painters to sit for his portrait; on two occasions by distinguished artists whom he met casually. " I want a patrician head for an historical picture that I am painting," one said. He never suspected any one of wishing to be other- wise than strictly upright, and, consequently, was frequently defrauded in his dealings with dishonest people. Once, during the latter years of his life, when in extremest poverty, he made a rather worse bargain than usual. " I do not think that you ever made a good bargain in your life," some one said. " No, I never tried," was the emphatic answer. " A good bargain always means that somebody makes a bad one." " Uncle Tom," one of his brother's children said to him, " why do you deny yourself everything ? Your credit is good. You could get thousands of dollars if you chose." " Yes, my dear, my credit is good ; and I mean to keep it so," he replied, in a manner that precluded further argument on that subject. S. D. S. BALTIMORE, 1303 JOHN STREET, June 1, 1888. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PA01 I. BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS 17 II. MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMINGTON .... 81 III. LEAVING THE OLD HOME 47 IV. MAMMY HARRIET'S KECOLLECTIONS 52 V. EARLY DAYS IN MISSISSIPPI 65 VI. PLANTATION MANAGEMENT 76 VII. STILL WATERS AND GREEN PASTURES .... 87 VIII. MANAGEMENT OF SERVANTS 101 IX. A SOUTHERN PLANTER'S WIFE 108 X. A SOUTHERN PLANTER 115 XI. HOME LIFE 130 XII. HOLIDAY TIMES ON THE PLANTATION .... 160 XIII. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW 166 XIV. SUMMER TRAVEL . . . 171 XV. SUMMER-TIME FALLING ASLEEP 179 XVI. SLAVES AND WAR-TIMES 190 XVII. A WEEK WITHIN THE LINES 202 XVIII. EEFUGEES 214 XIX. OLD MASTER 223 XX. THE CROWN OF POVERTY 231 XXI. THE CROWNING BLESSING 244 XXII. LIFE AT BURLEIGH 259 XXIII. QUIET DAYS 292 XXIV. REST . . 322 1* (East!*, / /(tu t~ ^ Uj 1uM 4 / fa tit 9 fau fiitL umLds jfa+ct^L visUfl vl tfu. fa ur fU*u> Uf / uj^, 4o tbt fa? tt&tot/OL 4*4*1* . I/ fa*, t ti+cs }ttMA^ #4 u v eu** *U- tf. 4*i+& [Copy of a letter received from the Hon. W. E. Gladstone.} HAWARDEN CASTLE, CHESTER, Oct. 12, 1889. DEAR MADAM : When you did me the honour to send me the Memorials of a Southern Planter, I in acknowledging your cour- tesy said (I think) that I should peruse it with lively interest. I have finished it this morning and my interest in the work is not only lively but profound. What I expected that the world might reap from it may be roughly described as Justice to the South : to which as matter of course something less than Justice has latterly been done in the common estimation. My expectation was thoroughly fulfilled. But what I also found was the exhibition of one of the very noblest of human characters : affording to every one (not least may I say to one who is himself a happy father in old age) food for admiration, for love, and for ever so distant and ever so humble imitation. I am constrained to go on and add that the family picture is one of rare beauty, and that the Memoir is such as he would have wished it to be : I cannot give it higher praise. Yet more. I am very desirous that the old world should have the benefit of this work. I write to my bookseller in London to order me some copies which I may give to friends. I shall ask Mr. Knowles the Editor of the Nineteenth Century (our most widely known periodical of the highest class) to allow me to draw atten- sion to it there by a brief notice. But I now ask your permis- tion, I hope your immediate permission (if you like to send it by telegram "Gladstone Hawarden England Proceed " will suffice) to publish it in England. Pray do this through any channel which may be agreeable to you. Should you desire to do it through me, I shall on receiving your answer communicate with one or the other of my own publishers in London (Mr. Murray and Mr. Macmillan) and you will probably hear from one of them as to the terms on which he would propose to proceed. Either of them may be entirely trusted. In any case allow me to thank you, dear Madam, for the good this book must do : and may the blessing of the Almighty rest richly on the heads of all the descendants of one noble even among Nature's nobles. I remain, dear Madam, Faithfully yours, MRS. SWEDES. W. E. GLADSTONE. UtfTKODUOTIOK GENEALOGICAL. IN the fair land of France the old Huguenot namo and family of d'Aubigne still live. They form but a email colony in their native land, never having increased much. From the earliest times they seem to have had a strong religious vein.* All the branches of this family in America claim a common ancestry. They have the same armorial bearings, an elephant's head, three footless martins, and the fleurs-de-lis of France, the same traditions, and the same motto, which they hold in three languages. In France they have tho motto in the Latin, Fidelis et Grata. One of the Amer- ican branches has it in French, Fidele et Reconnaissant ; while most of the name in the United States have it in English, Faithful and Grateful. The name has undergone many changes since the American branch left France, two centuries ago. It is variously written, as Daubeny, Daubney, Bigny, D'aubenay, Dabnee, and Dabney. The traditions among all say that they are descended from that fearless Huguenot leader, Agrippa d'Aubigne, who flourished from 1550 to 1630. But Agrippa was not the first of his name known at the French court. According to tradition in the family, a d'Aubigne commanded a company of Swiss guards at the court of Louis XII. Agrippa d'Aubigne wrote a minute history of the * The following is an extract from " Don Miff," a romance written by my brother, V. Dabney : " This Huguenot cross gave the old Whacker stock a twist towards theology. Two of the sons of Thomas and Eliza- beth took orders, much to the surprise of their father." 7 8 INTRODUCTION. fearful times in which he lived, one of the best that has come down to us. Agrippa was the father of Constant d'Aubigne, who was the father of Mme. de Main tenon, and her brother, Chevalier d'Aubigne. Constant d'Au- bigne was twice married. The first wife, Ann Marchant, left a son Theodore. The second wife, Jeanne Cardil- lac, was the mother of Mme. de ilaintenon and Chev- alier d'Aubigne; the latter was never married. The d'Aubigne line was continued through Ann Marchant's son, Theodore. We find the name on the rolls of Battle Abbey among the list of knights who fell at Hastings. Others sur- vived the conquest, and are mentioned in Hume's His- tory as champions of Magna Charta. After the revocation of the Edict of Nantes (1685), a branch of the d'Aubigne family left forever the land of their ancestors, because they could no longer there worship God with freedom of conscience. They took refuge in Wales. Somewhere between 1715 to 1717 two brothers, Cornelius and John d'Aubigne, left this land of their adoption, and sailed for America. Per- haps about the same time their brother Eobert came over, and fixed his home in Boston. Cornelius and John came to Virginia and settled on the two banks of the Pamunkey River, Cornelius on the northern and John on the southern side. In the hand-book in the land office of Richmond, Virginia, is recorded: "Cornelius de Bany, or de Bones or de Bony a grant of land (200 acres) in New Kent, dated 27th September, 1664. Again, another grant to same of 640 acres, dated June 7th, 1666. Again, this last grant was on Tolomoy Creek, York River. Again, Sarah Dabney, a grant of land (179 acres) on Pamunkey River, in King and Queen Co., April 25th, 1701." Then follow other grants to other Dabneys in these early days of our country. From Robert d'Aubigne, of Boston, sprang the men who for three generations, and almost from the begin- ning of our republic, have held the United States con- sulate in the Azores, or Western Islands. During this period the government has seen many changes, but only INTRODUCTION. 9 one attempt has been made during eighty years to take the consulship out of the hands of the descendants of Eobert d'Aubigne. They have borne themselves so well in their office as to win the confidence of Whig and Democrat and Republican. Under General Grant's administration it was thought advisable, for political reasons, to bestow this consulship on Mr. Cover. Ac- cordingly, in 1869, it was taken from Charles William Dabney and given to Mr. Cover. Charles William Dabney, who had succeeded his father in the consulate, who had held it since 1806, received the new consul in his own house, as ho could not be suitably accom- modated elsewhere. But Mr. Cover lived only two years, and on his death the consulate passed again into the hands of the Dabney family. Charles W. Dabney had held it for forty-three years. He did not desire it again, feeling too old to serve. His son, Samuel W. Dabney, was appointed consul in 1872, and still holds the office. Honorable mention was made by Presi- dent Cleveland, in reappointing him to the consulate, of the services of Samuel W. Dabney. A younger brother of Charles W. Dabney, William II. Dabney, held for twenty years the consulship of the Canary Islands, having resigned in 1882. In the court record at Hanover Court-House, un- fortunately destroyed in the Richmond conflagration of 1865, occurred this entry in the first minute-book of that county, at the beginning of the entries, which were begun when the county was cut off from New Kent County, in 1726 : " Ordered, that it be recorded that on day of April, 1721, Cornelius Dabney, late of England,* inter- married with Sarah Jennings." All accounts agree that his first wife died soon after coming to Virginia, leaving an only son, George. From this English George oame the William Dabney who gave two sons to the Revolutionary army, Charles, who commanded the Dabney Legion, and George, who was a captain in that legion. The brothers were present at the siege of * He seems to have gone to England before coming to America. 10 INTRODUCTION. Yorktown and the surrender of Lord Cornwallis. They received the thanks of Congress for services rendered. George Dabney's powder-horn, that he carried into battle, in still in existence, and in the possession of one of his descendants. Patrick Henry, who was a kins- man and companion of these brothers, was on very intimate terms with them. From the marriage of Cornelius Dabncy and Sarah Jennings sprang three sons and four daughters. The descendants of their half-brother George and of this band of brothers and sisters have their homes in Louisa and Hanover Counties. Of late years they have spread over nearly every State in the South and Southwest, and some have found their way to the Middle States. The distinguished Presbyterian minister, Rev. Robert L. Dabney, well known as the author of the " Life of Stonewall Jackson," and now professor in the Stale University of Texas, is descended from Cornelius Dab- ney's son George. John Dabney established himself on the lower Pa- munkey River, at what has been known ever since as Dabney's Ferry, and this became the original nest of the Dabneys of King William and Gloucester Coun- ties. " Most of the families of Lower Virginia are de- scended from John d'Aubigne ; also the Carrs, Walters, Taylors, Pendletons, Nelsons, Robinsons, and Carters and Fontaines, Beverleys and Maurys, the Lees, of Loudoun, the Seldens and Alexanders, of Alexandria. There is hardly a Huguenot or Cavalier family in Vir- ginia that has not in its veins an infusion of the blood of that sturdy confessor, Agrippa d'Aubigne. From the original pair of French Huguenots, married in 1685, no less than six thousand descendants have their names inscribed on a gigantic family-tree. Several thousand more could be added, if the twigs and boughs were filled out with the names of the lineal descendants known to exist." John d'Aubigne was married twice. George was the offspring of his first marriage. James, his son by his second wife, was famous for his great strength. INTRODUCTION. 11 George was twice married, and died, leaving two sons, George and Benjamin, by his first wife, and two, Jamea and Thomas, by his second wife. His second son, Ben- jamin, refused to receive his share of his father's prop- erty, leaving it to be used in educating his younger half-brothers. His brother George lived at the old homestead, Dabney's Ferry, and became the father of sixteen children, eleven of whom lived to be grown. Of these, four were sons and seven daughters. These sisters were noted for their beauty. One of them, Mary Eleanor, attracted the admiration of General Lafayette. A daughter of this lady, now sixty-seven years of age, writes thus : " General Lafayette, you know, visited this country in 1825. He was the guest of the city in Richmond. No private house could do for his entertainment, but a suite of rooms in the great Eagle Hotel was secui-ed for him. I have seen the rooms many a time, as my mother boarded there with my brother and myself. Cousin H. R. was the most gifted person with her pen, and she would, with indelible ink, make lovely leaves, flowers, doves, or scrolls, with the name in them. "Well, Lafayette's pillow-cases were of the finest linen, marked by her with her own hair, which was a lovely auburn, very long and smooth and even, and a motto was also on them with the name. I saw them often. I believe he was in Richmond some time. All his pillow-cases were marked in that way. My dear mother had then been a widow four years, and was only twenty-four years old, and in the very height of her beauty. Every- body who could get to Richmond was there to see the great welcome of the city to Lafayette. Many people were not even able to find shelter. Of course, my mother and young aunts were among those who went there. There was a hall, spoken of to this day as the Lafayette Hall. My mother danced with him and be- came well acquainted. People used to come over with such tales to grandpa's, and he made me cry many a time, teasing me by saying that mother was going to marry Lafayette and go to France to eat frogs. You 12 INTR OD UCTION. know Lafayette was a married man, well advanced in years ; but, of course, I did not know that. He really told several persons, Mrs. H. among them, that my mother was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, either in France or America. When he left Rich- mond many ladies kissed him, and he requested a kiss from my mother." Benjamin Dabney married first Miss Patsy Arm- stead. She lived only a few years, leaving three chil- dren, George, Benjamin, and Ann. A year or two later he married his second wife, Miss Sarah Smith, the daughter of the Rev. Thomas Smith. My father was one of the children of this marriage. The sons, George and Benjamin, grew up to be of so great physi- cal strength as to become famous at their college of William and Mary. In physical development they resembled their grandfather's half-brother, James Dab- ney, who bears the surname of " the Powerful" on the family-tree. George went into the navy, and was en- gaged in the battle of Tripoli, and was so fortunate as to save Decatur's life in that fight. He grew tired of the navy and left it for a planter's life. Benjamin also became a planter, and married his cousin, Ann West Dabney, the daughter of his uncle George. The Smiths from whom my father was descended on the maternal side were known in Virginia as the Shooter's Hill Smiths, Shooter's Hill, in Middlesex County, Virginia, being the home which they founded in this country. His mother was Sarah Smith, the daughter of the Rev. Thomas Smith, of Westmoreland County, a clergyman of the Established Church, and Mary Smith of Shooter's Hill. The earliest record in the old Shooter's Hill Bible is of the marriage of John Smith of Perton and Mary Warner of Warner Hall, Gloucester County, in the year 1680. One of Mary Warner's sisters, Mildred, married the son of George Washington's uncle, Lawrence Washington. A de- scendant of John Smith of Perton, General John Bull Davidson Smith of Hackwood, was a thorough Dem- ocrat, sharing with other Americans of that day in a revulsion and animosity against everything English. INTR OD UCTION. \ 3 Seeing that some of his family took more interest in genealogy and family records than ho thought becom- ing in a citizen of the young republic, he made a bon- fire of all the papers relating to his ancestors and family history. It is necessarily, therefore, rather a tradition than a fact recorded in family history, that John Smith of Perton was the son of Thomas Smith, the brother of the Captain John Smith so famous in colonial history. The Smiths of this line adopted Cap- tain John Smith's coat of arms, the three Turks' heads, and now hold it. The grandson of John Smith of Perton, John Smith of Shooter's Hill, married in 1737 Mary Jaqueline, one of the three beautiful daughters of the French emigrant, Edward Jaqueline. The ceremony was performed at Jamestown by the Rev. William Dawson. They were the parents of Mary Smith of Shooter's Hill, who was married in 1765 to the Rev. Thomas Smith. In Bishop Meade's book on the old churches and families of Vir- ginia are some interesting accounts of Mary Smith's Jaqueline ancestors and Ambler relations. The follow- ing extracts are from his pages: " The old church at Jamestown is no longer to be seen, except the base of its ruined tower. A few tombstones, with the names of Amblers and Jaquelines, the chief owners of the island for a long time, and the Lees of Green Spring (the residence and property, at one time, of Sir William Berkeley), a few miles from Jamestown, still mark the spot where so many were interred during the earlier years of the colony. Some of the sacred vessels are yet to be seen, either in private hands or in public temples of religion. . . . The third and last of the pieces of church furniture which is now in use in one of our congregations is a silver vase, a font for baptism, which was presented to the Jamestown church in 1733 by Martha Jaqueline, widow of Edward Jaque- line, and their son Edward. In the year 1785, when the act of Assembly ordered the sale of church property, it reserved that which was passed by right of private donation. Under this clause it was given into the hands of the late Mr. John Ambler, his grandson. . . 2 14 INTRODUCTION. " Edward Jaqueline, of Jamestown, was the son of John Jaqueline and Elizabeth Craddock, of the county of Kent, in England. He was descended from the samo stock which gave rise to the noble family of La Roche Jaquelines in France They were Protestants, and fled from La Vendee, in France, to England during the reign of that bloodthirsty tyrant Charles IX., of France, and a short time previous to the massacre of St. Bar- tholomew. They were eminently wealthy, and were fortunate enough to convert a large portion of their wealth into gold and silver, which they transported in safety to England." " Whilst I was in Paris (says one of the travellers from America), in 1826, the Duke of Sylverack, who was the intimate friend of Mme. de La Roche Jaqueline (the celebrated authoress of ' Wars of La Vendee'), informed me that the above account which is the tra- dition among the descendants of the family in America corresponds exactly with what the family in France believe to have been the fate of those Jaquclines who fled to England in the reign of Charles IX. I found the family to be still numerous in France. It has pro- duced many distinguished individuals, but none more so than the celebrated Vendean chief, Henri de La Roche Jaqueline, who, during the revolution of 1790, was called to command the troops of La Vendee after his father had been killed, and when he was only nineteen years of age. Thinking that he was inadequate to the task, on account of his extreme youth and total want of experience in military affairs, he sought seriously to decline the dangerous honor ; but the troops, who had been devotedly attached to the father and family, would not allow him to do so, and absolutely forced him to place himself at their head in spite of himself. As soon as he found that resistance was useless, ho assumed the bearing of a hero and gave orders for a general review of his army : to which (being formed in a hollow square), in an animated and enthusiastic manner, he delivered this ever-memorable speech : ' My friends, if my father were here you would have confidence in him; but as for me, I am nothing more than a more child. But as INTRODUCTION. 15 to my courage, I shall now show myself worthy to command you.' " This young man started forth a military Roscius, and maintained to the end of his career the high ground he first seized. After displaying all the skill of a vet- eran commander and all the courage of a most daunt- less hero, he nobly died upon the field of battle, at the early age of twenty-one, thus closing his short but brilliant career." The Jaquelines have English as well as French an- cestors. A branch of the family in America still cher- ishes a lock of Queen Elizabeth's red hair. This was acquired through Gary, Lord Hunsden, whom they claim as their English ancestor. His mother was Mary, daughter to Thomas Bullen and sister to the unfor- tunate Anne Bullen. Through the Smiths and Jaquelines my father was related to the Washingtons, Marshalls, Amblers, Joneses, Pages, Carys, and many other Virginia families. My father's grandfather, the Rev. Thomas Smith, was not related to his wife, Mary Smith, although she bore the same name. The result of this union was a family of three sons and four daughters. Among the list of their names in the family Bible we find a Mary Jaqueline. Their fifth child, Sarah, was born on the 27th of Feb- ruary, 1775, and her brother, John Augustine, seven years later. A thirteen-year-old sister, Ann, was struck by lightning and burned to death in her closet. Thomas Smith was rector of Nomini Church, Oople Parish, Westmoreland County, from 1765 to 1789. At one time during the residence of his family at the rectory attached to this old church, there came an alarm that the British ships were coming up the Po- tomac River. The rector ordered everything that could be hastily collected to be put into a wagon to be driven off to a place of security. As the servants were engaged in loading up the wagon, the oxen moved one of the wheels against a plank on which a line of beehives were standing. The plank was upset and the hives thrown to the ground. The bees flew in every direction, stinging every living thing within reach. 16 INTRODUCTION. The family and servants fled into the house. They were obliged to stuff even the keyholes to keep out the infuriated bees. The oxen ran entirely away, and the fowls which were in coops in the wagon were stung to death. The Eev. Thomas Smith died in May, 1789. Two years later, in December, 1791, his wife died. In Oc- tober, 1791, their daughter Sarah, in her seventeenth year, was married to Benjamin Dabney. He was a widower with three children, though but twenty-seven years old. Sarah's step-daughter, Ann, afterwards mar- ried her brother, Major Thomas Smith. Benjamin Dabney had given up the family mansion at Dabney's Perry, together with his patrimony, on his father's death, to his brother and his half-brothers, and he made his home on the York River at Bellevue, in King and Queen County. He had also, to some ex- tent, used his own means in the education of his half- brother, James Dabney, and his wife's favorite brother, John Augustine Smith. Both young men received medical educations abroad, James Dabney in Edin- burgh, and John Augustine Smith in London and Paris. His kindness and trust were not misplaced. When his own early death deprived his children of a father's care, Dr. James Dabney and Dr. John Augustine Smith were the best friends whom his children had. MEMORIALS OP A SOUTHERN PLANTER CHAPTER I. BIRTH AND EARLY TEARS. MY father, Thomas Smith Gregory Dabney, was born at Bellevue, his father's country-seat on the York River, in the county of King and Queen, Virginia, on the 4th day of January, 1798, and he used to tell us that he was two years in the world before General Washington left it. Two brothers had died in infancy before his birth, and the vigorous boy was hailed with much rejoicing. The christening was a great event. It was celebrated at Bellevue on so large a scale that the cake for the feast was made in a churn. Often as children we heard the old servants refer with pride to this occasion, and to the large company invited to witness it. In the old Smith Bible, for the rebinding of which one hundred dollars of Continental money is said to have been paid is found this entry, in his mother's small, old-fashioned handwriting: "Thomas Smith Gregory Dabney, our thii*d child, was born on the 4th day of January, 1798: was baptized the llth May, 1798. His godfathers were Messrs. Robert Wirt, Harvey Gaines, Thomas G. Smith, James Dabney, Thomas Fox, and Edward Jones. His godmothers were Mrs. Lee, Miles. Milly Williams, Elizabeth Robinson, Mary S. Whiting, Mary Camp, und Ann S. Dabney, and Ann Baytop." The first in- b 2* 17 18 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. cident recorded of the baby was his great terror at the sight of a very ugly lady, a visitor of his mother's. "Missis, he didn't know if she was folks," was his nurse's explanation when his screams had drawn at- tention to her charge. When only one year of age he was inoculated, having been sent with his nurse to a public hospital, as the custom then was in Virginia. In due time he passed safely and without disfiguring marks through the dangers of vai'ioloid. He used to relate to us that his mother had said that one of the happiest moments of her life was when her spool of cotton fell from her lap, her little Thomas, then eigh- teen months old, picked it up and handed it to her. When he was two years old his brother, Philip Augus- tine Lee, was born, and, two years later, his sister, Martha Burwell. This little flock were taught their letters and to read by a favorite servant, the daughter of their mother's maid. Thomas had great difficulty m remembering one of the letters. Finally, a cake was promised, all for himself, if he would try still harder. So, all day he went about the house repeating " G-, Gr," and the next day, when lesson hour came, his mother put his cake before him as fairly earned. My father's recollections of his father were very dis- tinct, considering that he died in the forty-third year of his age, when his son Thomas had only attained the tender age of eight years. The memo^ of this father was ever a most cherished one, and his children re- member the almost pathetic manner in which in his own old ago he lamented the untimely cutting off of that young life and brilliant career. Benjamin Dabney was at the head of the bar in King and Queen County, and was engaged by the British government to settle British claims. In nearly every case that came to trial in his county he was en- gaged as counsel on one side. He was considered by his brethren in his profession to be the most learned man in the law in his section. The judge who at that time sat on the bench appealed to him when doubtful on any legal point, saying that Mr. Dabney knew the law, and there was no need to look into BIRTH AND EARLY TEARS. 19 the books when he was at hand. My father used to tell us of his vivid recollections of seeing him drive home every evening when the court was in session. He was accompanied by his body-servant, who followed the gig on horseback, and who, after my grandfather got out, carried into the house the shot-bags of gold doubloons that had been stowed away under the seat in the gig-box. He sometimes brought home several of these. One of his fees amounted to four thousand dollars, which, considering that he died when barely in his prime, and the value of money at that time, was exceptionally large. His eight-year-old son was already learning from him some of the fond, fatherly ways, which were destined years after to endear him to his own children and grand- children, and which he practised in imitation of this tender father eighty years after that father was laid in his grave. One of our earliest recollections of our father was his having some treat for us always on his return home from a visit. This dainty was invariably put in the very bottom of his great-coat pocket, and the de- lightful mystery of feeling for that package and bring- ing it up to light, and then, with eager, expectant fin- gers untying the string before the treasure could be seen, was a pleasure not to be forgotten. My father's face at such times was one of the great charms of the scene, so merry and loving, and almost as full of the pleasant little excitement as the group of bright young ones gathered around him. In explanation to a visitor who might be looking on, he would say, " This is the way that my father treated me. I shall never forget how I enjoyed running ray hand down in his great- coat pocket when he came back in the evening from court. I was always sure of finding there a great piece of what we called in Virginia ' court-house cake.' " He was like his father in his thorough business methods and his punctuality. On the days when Ben- jamin Dabney did not attend court he retired to his study after breakfast, and his wife used to say that her orders were not to have him disturbed unless the house 20 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. was afire. Promptly at three o'clock he left his booics and his business cares behind him in his study, and, after dressing for dinner, joined his family in the draw- ing-room. He was invariable in his rule of being there ton minutes before dinner was announce J, and he ex- pected all in the house to conform to this. Many guests came and went at Bellevue, but this was never allowed to interfere with his business. After breakfast he would say to the gentlemen, " Here are guns and horses and dogs and books ; pray amuse yourself as you like uust. I shall have the pleasure of meeting you at din- ner." After dinner he was like a boy on a holiday, ready to join in anything that was proposed, and the life of every party. He was so elegantly formed that after his death it was said that the handsomest legs in America were gone. His death was caused by a violent cold, contracted in the discharge of his law business. At this time a young and rising lawyer, Mr. Charles Hill, was already beginning to share many of the important cases and large fees with Benjamin Dabney. This gentleman was destined to become the father of a child who, years after, married the son of his rival, Benjamin Dabney, and whom we knew as our dearest mother. Our faithful old nurse, Mammy Harriet, who grew up from childhood with my father, being only two years younger than himself, and who was scarcely ever separated from him, sits by me as I write, and she gives me an incident connected with the death of my grandfather too touching to be passed by. " Yes, honey," she says in her affectionate way, that seems to claim us still as her babies, "'course I 'mem- ber when ole marster die. I 'member well de ole 'oman, Grannie Annie, who sot wid him night an' day sot wid de coffin up-stairs all by herself; lay by de corpse all night long, put her arms roun' de coffin, an' hold on to it, cryin' all night long. She foller de coffin twenty miles to Bellevue, whar dey burj^ him ; foller behin' it cryin' an' hollerin' an' hollerin' an' cryin' to marster to Bay how d'ye to Toby dat was her son an' to Mars Gregory Smith, dat was marster's uncle, what was BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 21 dead. De ole 'oraan use to wear gre't big pockets, wal- let-like, an' she used to fill 'em full o' peanuts an' hickory- nuts an' apples an' dem kind o' things, an' carry 'em to Mars Jeemes Dabney, de brother o' her own marstor, what was dead. He was Doctor Dabney, you know, your cousin Jeemes's father. He thought a heap on her. Yes, to be sho, he was a married man den, wid two chillun. She mighty good ole 'oman. When she die her hyar was white as my cap." When Thomas was nine years old his mother, feel- ing that her brother, Dr. John Augustine Smith, would be a better judge than herself of the necessary requii-e- ments for the education of her sons, sent them to him, and Thomas was under his care for nine years. Au- gustine had never been a strong child, and it was soon decided that he was not able to stand the rigorous climate of Elizabeth, New Jersey, where the boys had been placed at boarding-school. At this early age the devotion of a lifetime had begun between the two children. The tender care and admiration of Thomas for his gentle, studious brother knew no bounds. He used sometimes to tease him himself, but never allowed any one else to do so. He was the self-con- stituted champion of this younger brother, whose thoughtful, retiring habits might otherwise have drawn on him many petty annoyances from his heedless school-fellows. At this time Augustine possessed the gift, which he lost later in life, of handling bees and other insects without danger of being stung. When he was missed from the playground, he might often be found in some secluded spot, with various stinging insects tied to strings, flying and buzzing around his head. He was quite fearless, and so gentle that they seemed to understand that no hurt would be done them. Thomas was occasionally deluded into trying the same experiments on seeing how easily it seemed to be managed, but in an instant he was off roaring with pain, and bitterly rueing his misplaced confidence. He always believed that Augustine was by nature fitted for a naturalist, and he deplored that his education was not turned in that direction. The harsh climate 22 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. that froze the blood of the delicate boy and made hia return to his mother's care in the Virginia home neces- sary, built up for the elder and stronger lad the iron constitution that was during his whole life the wonder and admiration of all who knew him. In talking of these school-days, he used to amazo his Southern-born children by his stories of the moonlight races that he and his schoolmates took over the New Jersey snows. This they did without an article of clothing on. They sometimes ran a mile, diversifying things on the way by turning somersaults in tho snow-drifts that were waist-deep. When they got back, they would creep softly up-stairs and jump into their beds and sleep like tops. At last old Parson Kudd, the head of the school, got wind of all this, and strictly forbade it. Nothing daunted, the boys were out again like rabbits when the snows and the moonlights were propitious. They were captured once, as they entered the door, after one of these escapades, and Parson Eudd did not fail to flog them soundly all around. In those days flogging was considered as necessary for a boy as his food, and as good for him. The habits formed at this time clung to Thomas through life. He used frequently in winter to stand in the cold night-wind in his shirt and get thoroughly chilled, in oi'der, ho said, to enjoy returning to bed and getting warm. His family feared that revulsions so sudden would endanger his life, or his health, and tried to persuade him to give up what they could not but look on as a dangerous habit, but his laughing assur- ance that he liked it, and it agreed with his consti- tution, was the only satisfaction they received in answer to their solicitations. On one occasion during his school-days in Elizabeth his mother came to pay him a visit, and Mrs. Winfield Scott called on her there. As Mrs. Scott was taking leave her coachman, an ignorant Irishman, got the fiery horses into so unmanageable a state that they stood on their hind legs and pawed the air. In vain did ho try to make them move off. Thomas, seeing the diffi- culty, asked Mrs. Scott to allow him to drive her home, BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 23 She had not seen him before, and asked, "My little man, where do you come from, that you know how to manage horses ?" " I am from Virginia," he answered. " If you are a Virginia boy you may drive me home," she said. In a moment he was on the box by the coachman, and had shown to the unruly horses that a fearless hand had taken the reins. They yielded at once to him, and in a short time Mrs. Scott was at her own door. General Scott came out to meet her as he heard the carriage roll up, and as he handed his wife out, asked, " What young gentleman am I indebted to, my dear, for bringing you home?" "He did not tell me his name," she replied^ "he only said that he was a Virginia boy. I do not know who he is." General Scott turned to thank him, but he was already speeding away across the fields. When he had gotten too far away to be thanked, he could not resist looking around to see how the horses were behaving. They were standing on their hind legs pawing the air. Thomas was taken from this school into the house- hold of his uncle, Dr. Smith. This gentleman was admirably fitted by nature and education for the trust committed to him by his sister in the care of her sons. His character was so strong, and of such uncompro- mising integrity, as to impress itself on all who came under his influence. He received his medical education in London and Paris, and was a practising physician in the city of New York when Thomas was put under his charge. When only thirty-two years of age his native State of Virginia called him to the presidency of William and Mary College. From this post he was recalled to New York by the offer of a professorship in the College of Physicians and Surgeons. Ultimately he rose to be president of the college. In order to stimulate Thomas's ambition in the city school which he now attended, Dr. Smith urged him 24 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. to try to take the Latin prize. He did succeed in winning this prize, a handsome set of Plutarch's Lives, and when he carried the volumes home, his uncle took u five-dollar gold-piece from his pocket and put it into the boy's hand. His first thought was to spend the whole of this in candy and raisins, and he went as fast as his feet could take him to his favorite resort, a little candy-booth kept by R. L. Stuart. Unfortunately, sulphur had just been weighed out in the scales, and the raisins had a strong taste of sulphur when they were handed to the lad. He was made so ill by this that he could not eat a raisin for years. R. L. Stuart was, fifty j'ears after this time, one of the millionaires of New York. Mrs. Smith heard Thomas say one day that he had nevei* had as much pound-cake as he could eat. She made one for him, about the size of a grindstone, he used to say, and had it set before him when the dessert came on the table. " Now, Thomas," she said, " that cake is all for 3 r ou." Thomas was cured of his fondness for pound-cake for the rest of his life by the very sight of this huge one, for he ate only a very small slice of it. But the lively, gay boy was more fond of going to the theatre than of his Latin books. He spent nearly all his pocket-money in this way; and during the nine years that he was with his uncle he saw almost every- thing that was brought out on the New York stage. He went nearly every night, and the inexhaustible fund of amusing songs that were the delight of his children and grandchildren, and that are indelibly asso- ciated with him by his friends, who cannot recall them without a smile, were learned in this way. After the horror of the burning of the Richmond Theatre the play-houses were not entered in New York by the public for some weeks. Every night the mana- gers had their plays performed to houses absolutely empty. One night Thomas went to a theatre, and find- ingaman sitting there, stayed during the half of the play. But the situation of having all the actors and actresses looking at them, and going through their parts for BIRTH AND EARLY TEARS. 25 them alone, became more and more embarrassing, and both Thomas and the man slipped quietly out. Curi- osity to see the end prevailed, however, and finding a little crack in the lobby, the two stationed themselves so as to be able to peep through that, and held theii posts till the curtain went down on the last act. His memory was very strong, and so clear in the minutest detail as to be the admiration of all who came in contact with him. Everything that he heard or read seemed graven on steel. Hence, by this constant attendance at the theatre, he became familiar with Shakespeare's plays, and with all the standard works of the English drama. He was especially fond of Shakespeare's plays, and of " The Rivals" and " She Stoops to Conquer," and he quoted from them with ease. This, however, he rarely did, having an unconquerable shyness in making anything like a premeditated speech. At dinners he often made speeches and proposed toasts when the occasion called for them, but those who knew him cannot fail to recall the mounting color and slightly husky voice which accompanied even the shortest address. When he was nine years old he saw Robert Fulton make the trial trip with his steamboat on the Hudson River. He never forgot the appearance of Fulton as he stood on the deck with folded arms, looking as if he were chiselled out of stone. All along the river-banks were the crowds who had gathei-ed to witness what most of them had predicted would be ignominious fail- ure, and they would have shouted in derision if their evil predictions had been verified. Instead, involuntary shouts of wild applause and admiration burst forth as the wheel made its first revolution and the steamer moved off from her wharf like a thing of life. The river- bank all the way was lined with people who came to see the wondrous thing. In the city of New York it was known that the steamer was on her way down the river while she was yet several miles off by the loud shouts of the crowds on the river-banks. Thomas, like most boys born on tide-water, was exceedingly fond of boats and of all sorts of water sports, and used to amuse B 8 26 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. himself by climbing the masts of the vessels in New York harbor. From the roundtop-mast of an English ship, just brought in as a prize, he one day witnessed the steaming in of Robert Fulton's steamboat. When he went back to his uncle's house, his mother, who had arrived on the boat, told him that she had seen a little fellow no bigger than himself up in the rigging of a big ship, and was amazed to hear that he was no other than her own boy. His admiration of naval courage and prowess was boundless, fostered in childhood by the recitals of his half-brother George, the midshipman, and later by the stirring scenes of the war of 1812. He was one in the funeral procession that bore our heroic " Don't-give-up- the-ship" Lawrence to his last resting-place in Trinity church -yard. At one time during his residence under his uncle's roof Dr. Smith became dissatisfied with his want of application to his studies, and advised his mother to set him to work at some handicraft. Accordingly, he was set to work in a printer's shop, and he printed a Bible before he concluded to apply himself to the cultivation of his mind. At the same time Augustine was sen- tenced to learn the business of a coachmaker for the same offence of idleness. He was actually in hia mother's carriage, on his way to be apprenticed to a coachmaker, when, at Dr. Smith's suggestion, he was given one more opportunity of showing that he was not hopelessly indolent. The result with both boys was quite satisfactory ; .they returned to their books with new interest, and there was never again occasion to find fault with them on this subject. One night when Thomas was about fourteen years old he had run to a fire. This he always did when near enough to reach the scene. Above the uproar of the flames could be heard the screams of a poor woman entreating some one to save her baby, which she said was in the burning house. No one moved to attempt to rescue it. The smoke was already puffing out of the windows, and it was considered as much as a man's life was worth to enter the building. The boy BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 27 seized a piece of rough scantling, which he adjusted to the second-story window that she indicated, and on this he climbed until he reached the window. He got into the room and felt his way to the bed, where the woman had said that her child lay. The bed was empty. Unknown to the mother, the child had been taken out and was in a place of safety. The boy now groped his way to the window. The fire had made such progress that the window-panes were falling in great drops of molten glass. Not a moment was to be lost, and he seized the scantling with both hands and slid to the ground. The liquid glass fell on his hands, and the splinters and nails, of which the scantling was full, lacerated them. The scars left by these wounds were so deep as to be plainly visible during his whole life. The crowd had watched with breathless suspense his climbing into the house, and it was believed that he had gone to certain death. His reappearance at the window was hailed with tumultuous cheers and ap- plause. The police crowded around him, asking hia name, a,nd the woman fell on her knees before him to bless him for his efforts in her behalf and to beg to know his name. He refused to give it, being quite em- barrassed at finding himself the centre of so much attention, when he had been doing what seemed to him so plain and simple a duty. He got away as fast as he could, and did not even tell his uncle of his adventure. The New York morning papers contained an account of the " heroic action of a young boy who had refused to give his name." It was many years before he men- tioned the circumstance to any one. One cold day, when he was about nineteen years old, he noticed on the ferry-boat, as he was coming from New York to Jersey City, a poor woman, who was shivering in her calico dress. He took off his great-coat and put it around her. In after-life he amused his friends very much by hia stories of a certain Mr. , who, as some sort of ex- piation for having killed a negro, built a church, and undertook to gather a congregation and to preach to them. Hia efforts brought together a number of the 28 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. wild spirits of the city. Thomas, who was afraid of Dr. Smith's displeasure if it were known that such a place was his Sunday evening resort, introduced him- self to this man under the name of Gregory. " Brother Gregory," as Mr. always called him, was promoted in this motley assembly to be the raiser of the hymns, and he was besides the senior warden. One of his duties was to snuff the candles ; he also handed around the plate for the contributions of the congregation. fie received nothing but wads of paper and cigar-ends, but the man persisted in having the plate handed around regularly. There were no end of practical jokes played on him by his unruly congregation. They shied rotten apples at his head and blew out the candles, and tried in every way to interrupt him, especially when his eyes were tightly closed in prayer. It was observed that no amount of disorder or noise could make him unclose his eyes at these times, nnd so the merry fel- lows invariably played the wildest pranks on him as soon as he began the prayer. Thomas was often the leader of these, but the man never suspected him, as he always seemed so ready to help to catch the offend- ers. It must have been remarked even by Mr. that he was singularly unsuccessful in these efforts at assisting him. One night he threw the snuff of a can- dle-wick on a fuse that he had arranged so that it would go off in the midst of the prayer. At the same moment the candles were put out all over the house. This time the unfortunate man was really so alarmed that he shrieked for Brother Gregory to come to him, that they meant to kill him. With a most officious show of zeal Thomas rushed forward. The two pur- sued the supposed offenders through the church, and up the staire and through the gallery, Thomas taking good care not to overtake the fugitives. In the gallery they fled through a door, which they held against the united efforts of the preacher and his ally. At a pre- concerted signal they suddenly sprang from the door, which now gave way, and the poor man and his trusted friend were precipitated headlong on the floor. It is almost needless to say that the police frequently BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS. 29 appeared on the scene when this horse-play became very uproarious. Mr. became so fond of his young friend that he took him to tea at his house one evening, and introduced him to his daughters, two very pretty girls. After tea he asked his guest to lead in prayer. But this was a length to which the boy could not be induced to go. Indeed, that he was asked to do it made such an impression on him that he made up his mind never again to attend the Sunday evening meetings. Years after this Mr. had occasion t go to .Richmond, Virginia, and he made many inquii-ies about a much valued friend, young Mr. Gregory, who had come, he said, from that part of the world, and whom he had lost sight of, much to his regret. Of course he found no trace of him. His mother, who heard of these inquiries, was greatly diverted. She had had many a hearty laugh over the stories of his esca- pades under the assumed name, for it was all too good to be kept from her. His mother went very often from her Virginia home to visit her brother in New York. The devotion of Thomas to her was one of the strongest feelings of his nature. After her death, which did not occur till he was nearly sixty years of age, he said that he had never said a disrespectful word to his mother in his life. During her lifetime he never failed to go to visit her eveiy other year, after he moved out to Mississippi. Until railroads were built this journey was performed in stages and by steam- boats, and it could not be made in less than two weeks. Each time he took one or two of his children with him, that he might show them to her in turn. The last child that was taken to her of the nine that she lived to see was the first-born girl, her own little namesake, Sarah. He had greatly desired to have a daughter, that she might bear his mother's name. While he lived with Dr. Smith he did all the family marketing. He also frequently went with him when surgical operations were to be performed. He learned so much from him in surgery as to be of lasting service to him in the care of his servants on his plantation. It was often said of him that he should have been a 8* 30 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. physician. His steady band and strong nerve fitted him especially for the practice of surgery. When he was fourteen years old the war of 1812 broke out. A report came to the Gloucester home that the British were making a demonstration of landing at Old Point Comfort. The State of Virginia called for men to go to the defence of the Point, and among the drafted men was Mrs. Benjamin Dabney's overseer. I shall give the account of this in Mammy Harriet's words. She was a child twelve years of age at the time, and never forgot the scenes then witnessed. " 'Course I 'member when Mars Thomas went off to de wars. What's to hender me from 'memberin'? He warn't grown, you know. He was just like Mars Ben, he own son Ben, when be went off to fight. You all know how you fix him up to go off to fight? Jest so he ma fix him up, and put him on de horse to ride to Old Point Comfort. De horse was Juno colt. Don't 1 know Juno? She was one of missis carriage-horses, an' she used to stan' straight up on her bin' legs when she was put to de carriage. You see dey come an' call for de overseer, Maja, an' he was mighty skeered, an' he cum hollerin' to de house, ' Mrs. Dabney ! Mrs. Dabney 1 Whar is she ?' Den she cum out an' tell her son Thomas to go in de overseer place, 'cause de overseer was of use on de place. Mars Thomas was delighted to go." Mrs. Dabney sent him on a lame horse, telling him that a lame horse was good enough to advance on, but would not do for a retreat. Her brother, Colonel Thomas Smith, was already in camp at Old Point Comfort, and Thomas was sent to join him. At the end of three weeks it was seen that this place would not be attacked, and Thomas returned home. He was through life a soldier at heart. ' Perhaps this early taste of the military life made the indelible impression. His step and bearing were those of a soldier, and this appearance was heightened by the old style of dress, the swallow-tailed, blue cloth coat and gold-plated but- tons. This was his dress till he was over sixty years of age, when he no longer had the means to pay for the costly clothes. MARRIAGE AKD LIFE AT ELMINGTON. 31 On the breaking up of the camp at Old Point Com- fort, Thomas and Augustine were sent to the college of William and Mary. Here they were once more under the eye of Dr. John Augustine Smith, who had just been called to the presidency of the college. A house was rented for the two boys, and, with the as- sistance of a cook and a body-servant apiece, they kept house during their collegiate course. Thomas was there for a comparatively short time, being called to take charge of Elmington. At this time his mother contracted a second marriage, with Colonel William H. Macon, of New Kent County, and she moved to his home, Mount Prospect, in that county. CHAPTEE II. MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMINGTON. ON the 6th of June, 1820, Thomas was married to Miss Mary Adelaide Tyler, daughter of Chancellor Samuel Tyler, of Williamsburg. He was at this time twenty-two years old. This lady lived only three years. Of this marriage were born two children, Benjamin Augustine and Samuel Tyler. Samuel died in infancy. Augustine lived to be nine years old, a gentle, quiet boy, who early showed signs of the disease of which he died, water on the brain. When Thomas Dabney had been a widower about three years, he met at the county ball at King and Queen Court-House Miss Sophia Hill, the daughter of Mr. Charles Hill of that county. She was but sixteen years of age, and this was her first ball. All who saw her at that time say that she was one of the most beautiful creatures that the eye ever rested on. Her hair and eyes were of that rare tint called the poet's auburn, and her complexion was the fair, fine skin that is found only with such hair. Teeth of snow, a shapely head on lovely shoulders, hands and arms that might 32 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. have served as models for a sculptor, and a charming smile, and one of the sweetest voices in the world, made up a combination that is rarely met with. To this matchless beauty was joined a sunny, happy dis- position and bright manner that made her irresistible in her youthful grace. Thomas Dabney always said that he fell violently in love with her as soon as his eyes fell on her across the ball-room. He lost no time in securing an introduction, arid before the evening was over he was resolved on winning this lovely girl for his wife. He found several formidable rivals in the way, but he was so fortunate as to win her young heart. He drove from his home in Gloucester to her father's home, Mantua, on the Matta- pony River, in King and Queen County, every two weeks during the two months' engagement. He went in his gig, with his body-servant following on horse- back. Each time he took a gift sometimes hand- some jewelry, and at other times volumes of standard English authors. On each alternate week he wrote a letter to her. None of these letters were answered. He looked for no acknowledgment, his thought was that he was honored sufficiently by her receiving them. This he expressed many years after, in speaking of a nephew who had complained that his betrothed did not write as often as he did. The marriage took place at the Mantua house, on the 26th of June, 1826. The ceremony was performed in the midst of a large company of relatives and friends. One who saw the bride the next day said that as she sut in her soft white gown, with her fair hands crossed in her lap and a smile on the beautiful face, she was like the vision of an angel. On that day Thomas took her home to Elmington. Her beauty and gentleness and modesty won the hearts of his friends. Mrs. Mann Page, of Gloucester, was celebrated for her beautiful hands, but after Sophia came, it was acknowledged that hers surpassed Mrs. Page's in beauty. She found Elmington full of her husband's servants, who had been accustomed to take MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMfNGTON. 33 care of him during his life as a widower. She felt shy about taking things into her own hands, fearing to excite their jealousy, and she took no voice in tho housekeeping for two years. The butler, George Orris, was quite equal to the trust committed to him. It was only necessary to say to him that a certain number of guests were looked for to dinner, and everything would be done in a style to suit the occasion. George himself was said to know by heart every recipe in Mrs. Randolph's cookery-book, having been trained by that lady herself. Virginia tradition says that Mrs. Randolph had spent three for- tunes in cooking. At the appointed hour, in knee- breeches and silk stockings and silver buckles, George came to announce that dinner was served. George was so formidable in his dignity of office that tho timid young wife stood quite in awe of him, and before she learned to know the good, kind heart that beat under that imposing appearance, was actually afraid to ask for tbe keys to get a slice of bread and butter in her husband's house. Some one asked George how he liked his new mistress. " I like her very much," was the reply, " only she wears her under petticoat longer than the top one." She was much amused on this being repeated to her, and explained that the white satin wedding-gown which George had seen her wear to her own dinner-parties was longer than the lace overdress that covered it. George was sincerely mourned at his death, which occurred a few years later. The lady's-maid, Abby, whom Sophia found at El- mington, was in her department as accomplished and as faithful as George Orris was in his. She took tho new mistress at once all over the house, giving her an inventory of everything that had been left in her care. In speaking of this afterwards, when both mistress and maid were grown old together, Sophia said that not even the smallest thing had been misappropriated by those honest hands. On the 27th of March of the following year the first child was born. The happy parents gave him the name 34 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. of Charles. But the child lived only nine months. On Christmas-day, 1828, a second son was given to them, whom they named Thomas. Then followed James, an- other Charles, and Virginias. The life at Elmington was the ideal life of a Virginia gentleman. Elmington was situated on an arm of the hesapeake Bay, the North Kiver, in the county of Gloucester, that has so often been called the garden- spot of Virginia. The house was of red brick, quaint and old-fashioned in design. It was built very near the water's edge. The lapping of the waves of the incoming tide was a sweet lullaby to the quiet scene, as the eye rested on the greensward of the lawn, or took in the bend of the river that made a broad sweep just below the Elm- ington garden. The North Kiver is half a mile wide. On the other shore could be seen the groves and fields and gardens of the neighboring country-seats. The low grounds on the river-shore extend back a dis- tance of a mile and three-quarters, and lie like a green carpet, dotted here and there with grand old forest- trees, and corn, wheat, rye, and tobacco fields. Far as the eye can reach stretches this fair view around Elm- ington. And far over, beyond field and grove and creek, rises the line of soft, round hills that mark the highlands of Gloucester. On the land side, the Elmington house was ap- proached through the fields by a lane a mile and three quarters long. It was broad enough to admit of three carriage-drives. Many of the lanes in Gloucester lie between avenues of cedar-trees, and the fields in most of the estates are divided by cedar-hedges. It was so on the Elmington lands. About four miles inland from the North River, in a quiet spot, surrounded by venerable oak and pine and walnut and other native trees, stands old Ware Church. It was built in colonial times, and its age is unknown. It is nearly square in form, and altogether unlike the present style of church architecture in this country. But its ancient walls are churchly, and the look of un- changeableness is soothing to the spirit in this world MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELM1NGTON. 35 of unust. This was the parish church attended by the North .River people. The old pew-backs at that day were so high that the occupants were invisible to each other. Many of them might read the names of their deceased ancestors on the tombstones that served as a floor for the chancel. The floor of Ware Church was made of flagstones. Stoves were not then in use m churches, nor was any attempt made to heat them. Delicate people stayed at home in the winter, or had warming-pans of coals carried in by their servants to put to their feet. Gloucester County had been settled by the best class of English people who came to this country, the younger sons of noble houses, and other men of stand- ing, who were induced to make their homes over here by an inherent love of change, or because they had not the means to live in the mother-country in the extrava- gant style required by their station. These brought to their homes in the New World the customs and manners of the Old. The tone of society has always been truly English in Lower Virginia, the "tide-water country," as the people love to call it. Everybody kept open house ; entertaining was a matter of course, anything and everything was made the occasion of a dinner-party. The country-seats were strung along the banks of the North River in a way to favor this. A signal raised on one could be seen for several miles up and down the river. If one of the colored fisher- men, whose sole occupation was to catch fish for the table at the Great House, as they called their master's residence, succeeded in catching a sheep's-head, his orders were to run up a signal-flag. This was an invita- tion to dinner to every gentleman in the neighborhood. If a rabbit was caught the same rule was observed. Eabbits were not common, which seemed to be the pretext for this, for they were not really esteemed as a dainty dish. A rabbit was served up rather as a trophy of the hunt than as a part of the feast intended to U. eaten. But the sheep's-head in those waters were not uncommon, and one was taken by the fisherman of one oouse or another nearly every day. At five minutes 36 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. before the time for dinner the gentlemen would ride up, or come by boat to the door of the house that had the signal flying. If any one was unable to attend, his servant rode up pi'omptly with a note of regrets. Punctuality in the observance of all the rules of cour- tesy and good breeding seemed inherent in the men and women in Gloucester society. In his Mississippi life Mr. Dabney was often annoyed by the different manners of his neighbors out there, verj T few of whom thought it necessary to send regrets or apologies when his invitations could not be accepted. Bishop Moore would go two or three miles out of his way in order to spend a day or two at Elmington. One night at about ten o'clock, in the midst of a snow- storm, he drove up. A game of whist was going on in the dining-room. Mr. Dabney, hearing the sound of his carriage-wheels, went out to welcome the guest, and found the bishop and his daughter there. While he was helping the old gentleman to get out of his great-coat before taking him in to the dining-room, the company there were busy hiding away the cards. Meanwhile, Bishop Moore was telling him, with hands upraised, of the cause that had brought his daughter and himself out in such weather and at such an hour the people at whose house they had intended to sleep they had found engaged in a game of whist! Mr. Dabney roared with merriment in telling this story. "The bishop saw the devil behind every card/' he always added. At this time John Tyler, afterwards President of the United States, was among his intimate friends, and he wrote to ask if he could come to Elmington for a week of absolute rest and quiet. Upon the invitation being sent, he came, and his wishes were respected in tho true Virginia manner of letting the guests of the house bo happy and comfortable in their own way. Ho sat all day over his papers, no one being allowed to intrude on his privacy. Every evening, when he came down to dinner, he found a company invited to dine with him. Augustine Dabney had married Mi.ss Elizabeth Smith, MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMINGTON. 37 of Fredericksburg, and lived in Gloucester, back in the country some miles from the North River. Thomas's nearest neighbor and most valued friend was his fathei's half-brother, Dr. James Dabney. Living on adjoining estates, their homes were bai'cly a stone's throw apart, and not many hours of the day passed without inter- course between the two houses. The uncle and nephew were congenial in many ways, and Sophia revered and loved Dr. Dabney like a father. Thomas's aptitude foi medicine and surgery was at times so helpful to Dr. Dabney, that he fell into a way of calling on him fre- quently to assist him. He used to say that Thomas's soft hand and acute sense of touch enabled him at times to diagnose a case that would baffle a practitioner of considerable experience who was not possessed of these natural advantages. He always had him at hand in his surgical cases if possible, and thus, under this uncle, were renewed the lessons given by Dr. Smith. Dr. Dabney was a man made of no common clay. His hospitality was on so princely a scale that he made no charge for medical services to any stranger visiting his county, thus making the whole county of Gloucester his home. Although for many years a widower, with only two childi'en, both sons, the arrangements of his home were set with a view to a large household. Everything was on a scale liberal even for Gloucester. A huly now sixty-eight years of age writes thus of Dr. James Dabney : " He stood very high in his profes- sion. He was a widower from my earliest recollection. He had a housekeeper and fine servants, and enter- tained people by the score for months at a time. Even ladies used to stay there from cities." His home, the Exchange, was seldom without its guests of a day, or a week, or many months. The ample fortune of the host justified the elegant hospi- tality of the house. He bad expended the whole of his patrimony during his five years at the medical school in Edinburgh. On his arrival in America, after graduating in medicine, he was obliged to borrow five hundred dollars in order to open hid office as a practitioner of medicine at Gloucester 4 38 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. Court-ITouse. It was not long before his ability brought him into a large practice, not only in Gloucester County, but he was callod to Bichmond, Norfolk, and other places as consulting physician. In the midst of Dr. Dabney's busy professional life his friends and neighbors called on him to represent his county in the Virginia Legislature. This he refused to do, alleging that he had no time for political work. But they were so persistent that he finally yielded. He stipulated, however, that he would not make one electioneering visit or ask for a single vote. In this he remained firm, and even went so far as to absent himself from the polls on the day of election. He was elected by a large majority, and he served the term out. His county people tried hard to induce him to allow his name to appear a second time as a candi- date for the Legislature. But he was not to be moved from his resolution of devoting himself henceforth to his profession. The strong character of Dr. James Dabney made its impress on Thomas. Doubtless he had inherited some of the traits with the blood of this large-souled uncle. Dr. Dabney's views about his own interment were very simple. He required from his son James a prom- ise to carry them out on his death, and his last wishes were respected. He was placed in a plain pine coffin, and no stone was set up to mark his grave. A brick wall saves it from desecration. Like his uncle, Thomas had a repugnance for costly and showy funeral trap- pings. He carried out these views in his own house bold. He always expressed a desire to be buried him- self as he buried his loved ones, in a plain pine coffin. " That I may return as quickly as possible to the origi- nal elements in the bosom of the earth." This taste was in accordance with the simplicity of character of the two men. They did nothing for show during their lifetime, and did not desire anything dono for show over their ashes. In colonial days a robe of silk was spun and woven for the Merrie Monarch in Gloucester County, ai.d in MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMINGTON. 39 the garret of the Exchange the silk-worms spun the silk for two complete suits for General Washington. In color they were gray. Thomas Dabney remembered seeing the silk-worms up there when a child, and his aunt Anderson, who presented these suits to General Washington, used occasionally to give him a cocoon for a plaything. Thomas Dabney was interested in all that was going on in Virginia. He rode to Richmond frequently. When it was known that Watkins Leigh, or R. G. Scott, or the Stannards, or any other of the distinguished men of that day, were to engage in a debate, he was pretty sure to be there to hear them. Thomas was present at the famous dinner at Yorktown given in honor of the nation's guest, the Marquis de Lafayette. At the table he was placed next to George Washington Lafay- ette, who occupied the seat next to his father. It was in the month of October, and there was a small dish of red Antwerp raspberries sent by Mrs. Tayloe of Mount Airy. They came from her hot-houses, and were set before General Lafayette. The courteous gentleman leaned across his son and offered the berries to Thomas. He took two. The story is still told in Gloucester of Thomas's capture of a man by the name of Crusoe, living in the lower part of the county. This man had acted for some years in open defiance of the oyster law. No sheriff had arrested him. He openly boasted that none should. Thomas had lately been elected to this office, and he determined to make an attempt to capture Crusoe. Summoning a posse of three of his neigh- bors, he proceeded in a boat down the river to Crusoe's schooner, that was lying out in York River. The schooner was well built and in stanch condition, while the boat which held Thomas and his friends was a wretched water-logged craft. As they drew near Crusoe's schooner, the sheriff called out to him to surrender. The only reply made to the summons was to cover the little boat of the sheriff and his party with an enormous old swivel-gun, and to warn them with an oath not to advance any nearer. Thomas held 40 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. a consultation with his friends, telling them that they must decide whether they were willing to approach the schooner under such circumstances. It was de- cided that it would be foolhardy to attempt to board a well-equipped boat when they were in a crazy thing that could not be managed in an emergency. So they went back home, leaving Crusoe master of the field for the time. Ascertaining 1 that Crusoe was in his house on a cer- tain night, it was resolved to capture him there. Ac- cordingly another posse was summoned, and Thomas and his four men rode to the man's house, a distance of about twelve miles. They surrounded the house, and the sheriff knocked at the door and demanded instant surrender. Crusoe's wife put her head out of the window up-stairs and said that her husband was in bed ; that if Mr. Dabney would come up-stairs alone and unarmed, he would give himself up. The posse objected to these conditions, and said that Mr. Dabney should at least be accompanied by one of them, or should wear his arms. But he called to the woman that he was ready and willing to come up on Crusoe's terms. She came down then and unbarred the door, and he followed her up to the man's room. He gave himself up at once, and, at the sheriff's bidding, prepared to mount a horse and go with him as his prisoner. He was greatly dejected at the prospect of being thrown into prison to await his trial, and was very sulky as they rode along. The party did not stop till they had reached Elmington. When dinner-time came, Thomas ordered dinner to be served to him, but he refused to eat. He had not tasted food the whole day. Thomas said to him, " Mr. Crusoe, would you like to go back to your wife to- night ?" The man looked up quickly, his whole coun- tenance changing. " I mean to put you on your honor," the sheriff continued. " You know that it is against the law for me to release you without bail. I will be your surety that you will be at Gloucester Court-Houso to pay the hundred dollars' fine in two weeks." MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMINQTON. 41 The man was much moved, and shed tears. The sheriff lent him his own horse to ride home. On tho appointed day he was at the court-house with the hundred dollars in his band. His gratitude to the man who had trusted him, one Avho had been an outlaw for years, made a changed man of him. He was ever after a law-abiding citizen, and was Thomas's stanch friend as long as he lived. Crusoe passed away years ago, but his son, himself an aged man now, loves to tell the story of Mr. Dabney's trust of his father. This son asked Mr. James Dabney of the Exchange if he was a relative of the former sheriff, and on hearing that they were cousins, ex- pressed his own gratitude and his father's for the confidence placed in him in the time of trouble. The fifty odd years that have passed since that time seem, not to have obliterated it from the memory of the Crusoe family. At the time when the negro rising known as tho Southhampton insurrection was threatened, Thomas received from Governor Floyd a commission of col- onel of militia. He and his men kept their horses sad- dled and bridled in the stable every night for three weeks, ready for any alarm or emergency. He was an accomplished horseman, and sat his mettlesome, blooded stallion like a part of himself. A boy in the neighborhood, whom his father asked if he would like to go to the court-house to see Colonel Dabney's soldiers drill, said in reply that he would rather see Colonel Dabney on his horse at the head of his regi- ment than all the soldiers. This boy, now a gray- headed man in Baltimore, delights yet in talking of those days. " When the drum and the fife struck up," he says, " that was the time that we boys had the fun. Colonel Dabney's horse sprang into the air and seemed hardly to touch the ground, and we wondered how he kept his seat." On the night when it was understood that the negro rising was to take place he called his own negroes up, and put his wife under their charge, as his duty called him away from her. His charge to them was that not 4* 42 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER. only was she to be protected by them, but she was not even to be alarmed; and if haim befell a hair of her head, they should be held accountable for it. The negroes were faithful, and guarded the house all night long, and with so much tact and genuine affection that when Thomas Dabney returned to his home the next da}', his wife was amazed to hear from his lips tho story of the peril that she, along with every white woman in Gloucester, had passed through during tho night. It is a singular circumstance that, with the exception of the negroes on the Elmington place, not a negro man was to be found in Gloucester County on that night by the patrol. It was supposed that the daring spirits had gone to join in the uprising, while the timid ones had hidden themselves in the woods. About the year 1835 a great many Virginians were induced to remove with their families to the far South. For several reasons Thomas began to consider the expediency of moving out to the then new country. He was considered one of the most successful wheat and tobacco farmers in his part of the State. But the expensive style of living in Gloucester began to be a source of serious anxiety. He knew that with a young and growing family to educate and pro- vide for the difficulty would be greater each year. He felt also the increasing difficulty of giving to his negroes the amount of nourishing food that he consid- ered necessary for laboring people. In view of these facts, he made up his mind that he must leave his home in Virginia for a new one in the cotton-planting States. Many and great were the regrets when it became known that Thomas Dabney had determined to leave Gloucester. The farewell dinner given to him at the court-house was perhaps the most notable ever given within the limits of the county. A copy of the Richmond En- quirer, bearing date of September 22, 1835, contains the published account of the proceedings of the day, which is here inserted. MARRIAGE AND LIFE AT ELMINGTON. 43 EXTEACT FKOM "THE RICHMOND ENQUIRER," SEPTEMBER 22, 1835. " To the Editors of the Enquirer : " GENTLEMEN, Under cover you have the proceedings which occurred at a public dinner recently given by many citizens of this county to Colonel Thomas S. Dabney, the insertion of which in your paper of an early day is desired. I have the honor to be your ob't serv't, "JOHN TYLER. " DINNER TO COLONEL THOMAS 8. DABNEY. " Colonel Dabney being about to move to the State of Missis- sippi with a view to a permanent settlement in that State, many of his countymen united in giving him a public dinner at Gloucester Court-House on the 12th inst. The following letters passed on the occasion : " GLOUCESTER COUNTY, Sept. 5th, 1835. " DEAR SIR, On behalf of many of the citizens of this county, who have learned, with the deepest regret, your determination shortly to leave Virginia for a residence in another State, we ten- der you an invitation to a public dinner to be given at Gloucester Court-House, on such day, prior to your departure, as may best suit your convenience. Those whom we represent are desirous of thus publicly manifesting their respect towards you because of their high estimate of your character as a man and your conduct as a citizen. We trust that no consideration will induce you to hesitate in yielding to their wishes, thereby affording them an opportunity, which may never occur again, of shaking you cor- dially by the hand and bidding you a warm and affectionate adieu. " We feel ourselves honored in having been made the channel of this communication, and subscribe ourselves, in all sincerity, your faithful and sincere friends, ' WILLIAM ROBBINS, ' THOMAS SMITH, ' JOHN TYLER, ' MANN PAGE, ROBERT CURTIS. " COL. THOMAS S. DABNEY, Elmington. " Answer of Colonel Dabney. " ELMINGTON, Sept. 8th, 1835. " GENTLEMEN, Your greatly esteemed note of the 5th inst. on behalf of many citizens of this county, tendering me a public dinner, has been received. Deeply sensible as I am that the honor proposed to be conferred upon me is immeasurably beyond my merits, yet the footing upon which you have been pleased to place 44 MEMORIALS OF A SOUTHERN PLANTER my acceptance or refusal leaves me no alternative, for it is impos- sible I can refuse my long-tried and bost friends an opportunity of bidding me adieu prior to my leaving the State ; and it might not become me to prescribe the mode. I therefore accept the in- vitation of my Gloucester friends with profound sensibility, not only for the distinguished and unexpected mark of their affection and confidence which it bespeaks, but al