A Girl's Life in Virginia before the War Part 5

The end of these pleasant journeys always brought us to some old plantation home, where we met a warm welcome not only from the white family, but from the servants who const.i.tuted part of the establishment.

One of the most charming places to which we made a yearly visit was Oaklands, a lovely spot embowered in vines and shade-trees.

The attractions of this home and family brought so many visitors every summer, it was necessary to erect cottages about the grounds, although the house itself was quite large. And as the yard was usually filled with persons strolling about, or reading, or playing chess under the trees, it had every appearance, on first approach, of a small watering-place. The mistress of this establishment was a woman of rare attraction, possessing all the gentleness of her s.e.x, with attributes of greatness enough for a hero. Tall and handsome, she looked a queen as she stood on the portico receiving her guests, and, by the first words of greeting, from her warm, true heart, charmed even strangers.

Without the least "variableness or shadow of turning," her excellences were a perfect continuity, and her deeds of charity a blessing to all in need within her reach. No undertaking seemed too great for her, and no details--affecting the comfort of her home, family, friends, or servants--too small for her supervision.

The church, a few miles distant, the object of her care and love, received at her hands constant and valuable aid, and its minister generally formed one of her family circle.

No wonder, then, that the home of such a woman should have been a favorite resort for all who had the privilege of knowing her. And no wonder that all who enjoyed her charming hospitality were spellbound, and loath to leave the spot where it was extended.

In addition to the qualities I have attempted to describe, this lady inherited from her father, General Breckinridge, an executive talent which enabled her to order and arrange her domestic affairs perfectly; so that from the delicious viands upon her table to the highly polished oak of the floors, all gave evidence of her superior management and the admirable training of her servants.

Nor were the hospitalities of this establishment dispensed to the gay and great alone: they were shared alike by the homeless and the friendless, and many a weary heart found sympathy and shelter there.

Oaklands was famous for many things: its fine light-bread, its cinnamon cakes, its beat biscuit, its frica.s.seed chicken, its b.u.t.ter and cream, its wine-sauces, its plum-puddings, its fine horses, its beautiful meadows, its sloping green hills, and last, but not least, its refined and agreeable society collected from every part of our own State, and often from others.

For an epicure no better place could have been desired. And this reminds me of a retired army officer, a _gourmet_ of the first water, whom we often met there. His sole occupation was visiting his friends, and his only subjects of conversation were the best viands and the best manner of cooking them! When asked whether he remembered certain people at a certain place, he would reply: "Yes, I dined there ten years ago, and the turkey was very badly cooked--not quite done enough!" the turkey evidently having made a more lasting impression than the people.

This gentleman lost an eye at the battle of Chapultepec, having been among the first of our gallant men who scaled the walls. But a young girl of his acquaintance always said she knew it was not bravery so much as "curiosity, which led him to go peeping over the walls, first man!" This was a heartless speech, but everybody repeated it and laughed, for the colonel _was_ a man of considerable "curiosity."

Like all old homes, Oaklands had its bright as well as its sorrowful days, its weddings and its funerals. Many yet remember the gay wedding of one there whose charms brought suitors by the score and won hearts by the dozen. The brilliant career of this young lady, her conquests and wonderful fascinations, behold! are they not all written upon the hearts and memories of divers rejected suitors who still survive?

And, apropos of weddings, an old-fas.h.i.+oned Virginia wedding was an event to be remembered. The preparations usually commenced some time before, with saving eggs, b.u.t.ter, chickens, etc.; after which ensued the liveliest egg-beating, b.u.t.ter-creaming, raisin-stoning, sugar-pounding, cake-icing, salad-chopping, cocoanut-grating, lemon-squeezing, egg-frothing, wafer-making, pastry-baking, jelly-straining, paper-cutting, silver-cleaning, floor-rubbing, dress-making, hair-curling, lace-was.h.i.+ng, ruffle-crimping, tarlatan-smoothing, trunk-moving,--guests arriving, servants running, girls laughing!

Imagine all this going on simultaneously for several successive days and nights, and you have an idea of "preparations" for an old-fas.h.i.+oned Virginia wedding.

The guests generally arrived in private carriages a day or two before, and stayed often for a week after the affair, being accompanied by quite an army of negro servants, who enjoyed the festivities as much as their masters and mistresses.

A great many years ago, after such a wedding as I describe, a dark shadow fell upon Oaklands.

The eldest daughter, young and beautiful, soon to marry a gentleman[4]

of high character, charming manners, and large estate, one night, while the preparations were in progress for her nuptials, saw in a vision vivid pictures of what would befall her if she married. The vision showed her: a gay wedding, herself the bride; the marriage jaunt to her husband's home in a distant county; the incidents of the journey; her arrival at her new home; her sickness and death; the funeral procession back to Oaklands; the open grave; the bearers of her bier--those who a few weeks before had danced at the wedding; herself a corpse in her bridal dress; her newly turfed grave with a bird singing in the tree above.

[4] Colonel Tom Preston.

This vision produced such an impression that she awakened her sister and told her of it.

For three successive nights the vision appeared, which so affected her spirits that she determined not to marry. But after some months, persuaded by her family to think no more of the dream which continually haunted her, she allowed the marriage to take place.

All was a realization of the vision: the wedding, the journey to her new home,--every incident, however small, had been presented before her in the dream.

As the bridal party approached the house of an old lady near Abingdon, who had made preparations for their entertainment, servants were hurrying to and fro in great excitement, and one was galloping off for a doctor, as the old lady had been suddenly seized with a violent illness. Even this was another picture in the ill-omened vision of the bride, who every day found something occurring to remind her of it, until in six months her own death made the last sad scene of her dream. And the funeral procession back to Oaklands, the persons officiating, the grave,--all proved a realization of her vision.

After this her husband, a man of true Christian character, sought in foreign lands to disperse the gloom overshadowing his life. But whether on the summit of Mount Blanc or the lava-crusted Vesuvius; among the cla.s.sic hills of Rome or the palaces of France; in the art-galleries of Italy or the regions of the Holy Land,--he carries ever in his heart the image of his fair bride and the quiet grave at Oaklands.

CHAPTER VIII.

Another charming residence, not far from Oaklands,[5] which attracted visitors from various quarters, was Buena Vista, where we pa.s.sed many happy hours of childhood.

[5] General Watts's place, Roanoke.

This residence--large and handsome--was situated on an eminence overlooking pastures and sunny slopes, with forests and mountain views in the distance.

The interior of the house accorded with the outside, every article being elegant and substantial.

The owner,[6] a gentleman of polished manners, kind and generous disposition, a sincere Christian and zealous churchman, was honored and beloved by all who knew him.

[6] George P. Tayloe, Esq.

His daughters, a band of lovely young girls, presided over his house, dispensing its hospitality with grace and dignity. Their mother's death, which occurred when they were very young, had given them household cares which would have been considerable but for the a.s.sistance of Uncle Billy, the butler,--an all-important character presiding with imposing dignity over domestic affairs.

His jet-black face was relieved by a head of gray hair with a small, round, bald centerpiece; and the expression of his face was calm and serene as he presided over the pantry, the table, and the tea-waiters.

His mission on earth seemed to be keeping the brightest silver urns, sugar-dishes, cream-jugs, and spoons; flavoring the best ice-creams; b.u.t.tering the hottest rolls, m.u.f.fins, and waffles; chopping the best salads; folding the whitest napkins; handing the best tea and cakes in the parlor in the evenings; and cooling the best wine for dinner.

Indeed, he was so essentially a part of the establishment that in recalling those old days at Buena Vista the form of Uncle Billy comes silently back from the past and takes its old place about the parlors, the halls, and the dining-room, making the picture complete.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HIS MISSION ON EARTH SEEMED TO BE KEEPING THE BRIGHTEST SILVER URNS."--_Page 78._]

And thus upon the canvas of every old home picture come to their accustomed places the forms of dusky friends, who once shared our homes, our firesides, our affections,--and who will share them, as in the past, never more.

Of all the plantation homes we loved and visited, the brightest, sweetest memories cl.u.s.ter around Grove Hill,[7] a grand old place in the midst of scenery lovely and picturesque, to reach which we made a journey across the Blue Ridge--those giant mountains from whose winding roads and lofty heights we had glimpses of exquisite scenery in the valleys below.

[7] The old seat of the Breckinridges, Botetourt County.

Thus winding slowly around these mountain heights and peeping down from our old carriage windows, we beheld nature in its wildest luxuriance. The deep solitude; the glowing sunlight over rock, forest, and glen; the green valleys deep down beneath, diversified by alternate light and shadow,--all together photographed on our hearts pictures never to fade.

Not all the towers, minarets, obelisks, palaces, gem-studded domes of "art and man's device," can reach the soul like one of these sun-tinted pictures in their convex frames of rock and vines!

Arrived at Grove Hill, how enthusiastic the welcome from each member of the family a.s.sembled in the front porch to meet us! How joyous the laugh! How deliciously cool the wide halls, the s.p.a.cious parlor, the dark polished walnut floors! How bright the flowers! How gay the spirits of all a.s.sembled!

One was sure of meeting here pleasant people from Virginia, Baltimore, Florida, South Carolina, and Kentucky, with whom the house was filled from May till November.

How delightfully pa.s.sed the days, the weeks! What merry excursions, fis.h.i.+ng-parties, riding-parties to the Indian Spring, the Cave, the Natural Bridge! What pleasant music, and tableaux, and dancing, in the evenings!

For the tableaux we had only to open an old chest in the garret and help ourselves to rich embroidered white and scarlet dresses, with other costumes worn by the grandmother of the family nearly a hundred years before, when her husband was in public life and she one of the queens of society.

What sprightly _conversazioni_ in our rooms at night!--young girls _will_ become confidential and eloquent with each other at night, however reserved and quiet during the day.

Late in the night these talks continued, with puns and laughter, until checked by a certain young gentleman, now a minister, who was wont to bring out his flute in the flower-garden under our windows, and give himself up for an hour or more to the most sentimental and touching strains, thus breaking in upon sprightly remarks and repartees, some of which are remembered to this day. A characteristic conversation ran thus:

"Girls!" said one, "would it not be charming if we could all take a trip together to Niagara?"