Mississippi scenes; or, Sketches of southern and western life and adventure, humorous, satirical, and descriptive, including The legend of Black Creek

Front matter

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Introduction

A VERY few words will suffice to preface the following sketches, which are mostly drawn from real scenes and characters, and may, therefore, be regarded by the reader as faithfully original. The models and incidents are alone borrowed and embellished. Hundreds now living will doubtless recognize and identify every character, and thousands are familiar with the scenery and many of the incidents. These facts serve to alleviate, partially, the distrust with which I offer them to the public ; though, if I shall have failed to paint sufficiently life-like, my mortification will be, in consequence, much the more intense.

The Mississippi reader, however, will look in vain for the originals of all the characters and scenes in oui* own State or midst ; and many friends in Georgia, where the author's early life and youth were passed, will, no doubt, be surprised to find much in the following pages which belongs more properly to pleasant reminiscences of the treasured past. Many busy actors are the cherished friends of early days (some now, alas ! asleep in the

VI INTRODUCTION.

cold and cheerless tomb), redrawn, and introduced on a different theatre, truly, but not altogether among unfamiliar names. Nevertheless, it is here and round about that inquisitive or curious readers must look mainly for satisfaction.

Some of these sketches were originally published in Mississippi papers, under the signature of a "R-ambler." The author has, therefore, been compelled to divide the volume into two parts, the original design having been departed from, and the second series being of a different character, entirely, from the first. The last sketch, also, cannot be called a "Mississippi Scene," and the author can only excuse its introduction on the ground of its being a family reminiscence of the Revolutionary era, and mainly true in fact. It was furnished, originally, as a contribution, by the author, for the October number, 1848, of Peterson's National Magazine.

The reader will find that I have indulged, truly, the ^'■otium cum dignitate" in the composition of the following sketches. The style is that of everyday thought. I have written more with a view to amuse and entertain than to engage or instruct. And if various authors are thought of and named as my model, let me say, once for all, that I have written with no design either at imitation or competition. Imitation, at the best, is hazardous; competition is out of the question when mentioned in connection with any whose writings I may have chosen for my model. Any rough sketcher may make

INTRODUCTION. VU

a tolerable copy. To conceive and carry out the original requires the hand, always, of a master in the art. Whilst, therefore, the method and arrangement of the following sketches may have been suggested by reading the works of abler writers, I can yet say, with truth, that there is a novelty about them which may, perhaps, compensate for the absence of greater beauties.

Many of the scenes purporting to be laid in Mississippi will be found equally applicable elsewhere in the South — particularly those illustrative of negro character and incident. I have written, it will be seen, as a journalist or sketcher, not as an essayist or a politician. Abler pens than mine have long since fulfilled this last character.

In conclusion, I can assure my readers that they may rely on the truth and accuracy of the descriptions found in the following pages ; and while, doubtless, much is embellished, there are many who will be able to pronounce most they meet with " o'er true."

J. B. C.

LoNGWOOD, Miss., 1850.

MISSISSIPPI SCENES.

Chapter I. A Sabbath Morning In Columbus

The distance which separates us, my dear S , will

be sufficient apology for addressing you as the medium of communicating a few rambling and descriptive thoughts to the public, if indeed I were not justified already in the fact that I have been long honored with an intimate friendship to which few have aspired with as much sincerity, and fewer still with such pleasing and cordial evidences of success. And if this was destined to reach you first through a private letter, intended to circulate only amongst the cherished few who form the delightful circle into which you will soon be welcomed, it would then accord better with my feelings to remove the veil of disguise, and affix to the initial letter the balance which makes a name connected with every virtue, and which is associated with scenes of domestic beauty peculiarly grateful and pleasant. But that modesty of thought which operates to confine within select limits an intellectual taste, as worthy of admiration as of envy, and which might eminently elicit both if more publicly diffused, forbids me to hazard a liberty so questionable in its results to a friendship I would by no means rashly lose. In pursuing these sketches, therefore (designed merely for Jiome consumption), I shall leave the disguise in both instances to be penetrated by those whose interest in the scenes may lead them to the task, or who have been sufficiently acquainted in our social circle to experience at once shrewd suspicions of our identity. I shall begin then with a home sketch ; nor do I know whether, in their future progress, these letters will ever be extended beyond the precincts or suburbs of the lovely and picturesque though comparatively unknown and certainly unappreciated little city in which our acquaintance began. Such, though, may be the case.

It was a lovely Sabbath morning in the spring of 184- that I found myself leisurely strolling along a secluded street of our little city, refreshing my eye with the sight of numerous beautiful flower-gardens, redolent with the earliest and sweetest visitants of the season, and indulging that thoughtful solitude of mind so agreeable to all who reflect much, or who aim to divert the thoughts of others by communicating the fruits of that solitude and reflection. The morn w'as most unusually calm and quiet, and the little spring birds were warbling merrily their joyous notes of welcome, and the sun shone with that hazy and subdued lustre which we so often imagine in connection with the Sabbath. Presently the church bells were heard calling the little Sunday scholars to their weekly Bible tasks, and, involuntarily, my own fancy wandered back to childhood's years when the same sound called me to the same loved task. I could almost see the happy groups of bright and smiling faces as they assembled in the vestibule of the old vine-clad church, awaiting the arrival of the aged minister whose delight it was to instruct us. There was the rosy-cheeked little girl, clad in spotless white, with a nosegay of sweet flowers in one hand, whilst the other held her Bible and catechism. By her side was the little brother, the pet of home, the darling of father and mother, whose years were yet too tender for other mental employment. There stood the damsel just opening into womanhood, and the youth pluming himself on the cut and appearance of his first surtout with its shining brass buttons.

There in one corner was the mild-looking teacher, rehearsing with his class the lesson soon to be recited in the minister's presence ; and there, too, in another corner, was seen a bevy of laughing faces, greeting each other with the fondness and simplicity belonging to childhood. Then the venerated minister enters — all are still, and answer reverently to his paternal welcome. The door is opened, the invocation pronounced, and I almost surprised myself listening to catch the soft music of the little choir as they joined voices in praising the God of Sabaoth. The picture was too vivid to be diverted from my mind's eye by the passing scenes and circumstances around. I was carried back to boyhood and to my early happy home — home as it was before death came and trials began. The tenants of the lonely and distant graves were before me as I had seen them in the morning of life and in the opening of memory. I saw the mother who prayed over me, the father who petted me, the little brothers in whose gambols I participated in those sunny days when all was so bright. Even the old servants who watched us were present to my imagination. I could see the companions who shared these guileless pleasures, and who then bid too fair for life to sink so soon into the grasp of death. All was as fresh before me as if there the scene had been enacting, and moments passed listlessly away, and the last vibrating echoes of the church-bells were dying away, when my fancy was forced again from those lovely and grateful contemplations. And now my thoughts too changed! Where, I asked myself, were those bright groups which used to assemble in that old church? Some, cut off in the bloom of life, reposed beneath the same shades adjoining, where I had so often watched them mingling in childish sports. There, too, lay the little bright-eyed brother, whom first of all the earth I had learned to love ; and there too was the marble monument which towered over the mortal remains of him who in life had petted us as the apples of his eye. Years arj^ years ago I had watched, with tearful eye, the green grass as it waved over the lonely grave of that fond mother who had brightened the home of childhood. All were now gone, and with the lapse of time other feelings had been engendered, other and equally cherished affections had taken the place of those that were fled. There is, however,

my dear S , nothing which comes so welcome and

grateful to the feelings as those dim remembrances of early days, which so harmonize our thoughts, and steal our imaginations insensibly away to scenes which were unalloyed with worldly anxieties, and mellowed by those softer primitive affections which have not known the blight of more advanced years.

It was then under the influence of feelings like these that I wandered on into the more frequented portions of the city, with the intention of attending one of the services of the day. I determined to go where I should meet with the most numerous congregation, with a view of finding, if possible, whether many others might not be pervious to a like touch of feeling, and whether the callousness of every-day life might not be, by some chance stroke, forcibly disarmed and diverted.

I continued my walk, and came to the intersection of Church Street. Here I paused, for a moment, to survey the numerous throng of shining carriages and fretful horses before and around me. Flashy-looking negroes, in linen and broadcloth, their heads covered with glistening hats and their hands smothered in kid gloves of every hue, mounted on their lofty boxes, seemed to be striving who should succeed in cutting the most capers at the risk of their own necks and their master's purses. On ray right, at the distance only of a few paces, I could see the Presbyterian church, surmounted with its glittering dome, which seemed to shake on its slender and rather elegant pillars beneath the vigorous efforts of some ardent bell-ringer who tolled the faithful to their worship.

Immediately in my front towered the stately and elegant edifice dedicated to Baptist worship, and further on, within stone throw, was seen the neat but more moderate proportions of the Methodist church. These two, you must be aware, my lovely friend, are the grand rival sects of the city, as indeed they are of the United

States, They are ever ready for the ring, and a regular

9* theological prize fight (not in its vulgar sense) comes off now and then between them. What is strange, too, they rarely ever contend about the essential principles of reli- , gion, but are extremely concerned to know whether the ancient prisons were provided with tan-vats, and whether the early Christians used water in Homoeopathic or Allopathic quantities. What a pity that, in order to settle this first theological proposition, the Jews or Christian fathers have not been able to excavate some manuscript remnant of old Simon the tanner !

And so earnest are they on these important points that, like the Highland and Lowland Scotch, they never allude to the matters in dispute without an involuntary itching to "pitch into" each other, and take a regular Hyer and Sullivan turn. These rounds are sometimes pursued to a most barbarous extent. They are renewed daily for weeks at a time, and Tartleton's quarters are the order of the day. The regular ministrations of the pulpit sink into oblivion under this more absorbing and essential business, and the benches of the arena groan beneath the weight of loafers and sinners, who convoke from much the same species of laudable curiosity that gathers the hordes to witness a match race betwixt Boston and Fashion. No sort of contest is so eagerly sought after or so dearly prized by this respectable class of community, and old racers, and veteran sportsmen who never see the inside of a church during the old-fashioned sort of service, feel indispensably bound in duty and conscience to attend on occasions of the kind under consideration. Lest, too, the cause of our holy religion should suffer from neglect to cultivate this taste in the transgressing community, these churches (and others, too, though they are more secondary) set apart select champions trained and inured to the service of theological pugilism, and it has become now as much a science as boxing and cudgel-playing are amongst the English,

And I very reverently question, my dear S , whether

St. Paul attracted larger crowds when, " after the manner of men ^ he fought with beasts at Ephesus," than do these pulpit champions when, betwixt the hours of exhibition, they play the lio7i on the village streets or city promenades. All honor and praise, then, to these doctrinal boxers, who distrust too much the results of Christian harmony and amalgamation to allow this pious warfare to become extinct ! It is woefully to be dreaded that such cessation of strife might produce a most lamentable state of torpidity, from which religion could never resuscitate.

But it is high time I was going on with the legitimate thread of my sketch of a Sabbath morning's visit to the Church of the Methodists. I was soon brought to conelude, on the morning in question, that it was among these worshipers I would find the largest congregation.

I have often listened in company with you, my lovely friend, to the eloquent and able discourses of the minister then in charge of this church, and have often, too, wished you had been with me, when these observations were

made. You, my dear S , belong to a different church,

and I, as you well know, am no churchman at all, but we have both agreed that this gentleman was a learned and interesting expositor of the holy Gospel, and peculiarly happy in awakening some latent feeling, in the course of his sermon, which caused the hearts of his hearers to beat in unison with his own, and impressed the mind with a train of associations, springing from some tender and cherished fountain of memory, which often surprised the most wary into a gush of tears. And, indeed, whatever may be said about the desultory and discretionary polity of this class of Christ's followers — it must yet be fairly admitted that their services, when conducted by able preachers, are most delightful and interesting, because the best adapted to arouse the finer emotions of our nature, and call into vivid action deeper sentiments than those merely of awe and solemnity.

The seats were nearly all taken when I entered, but I found a vacant one without much difficulty, and composed myself for the services, though scarcely recovered from the sensations by which, only a few hours before, I had been so completely overpowered. I marked the majority of persons present, and soon ascertained that I knew most of them. I was at once satisfied that this was eminently an opportunity to observe the power of eloquent appeal and happy allusion in forcing into one common channel of thought and sympathy these differing materials and conflicting natures. Every variety of character, and temperament, and condition was around ; and I prepared myself to observe with wakeful eye the effect of the coming discourse, and to detect, if possible, that furtive link of sympathy which philosophy teaches us to believe exists between all rational beings, though a lifetime may pass without its development in natures which have been corroded by more powerful and less tender influences. My only fear was now that the preacher himself might fail to strike the happy mesmeric chord.

The hymn was given out and sung with a zeal and good feeling which augured finely for a speedy diffusion of that mystic influence so essential to the successful accomplishment of my wishes. The feelings of the worshipers rose with the swell of vocal melody, in which all joined to waft their morning orisons to the throne of Grace. I was myself most sensibly affected by the simple music. The air was as old as the hills, and carried my fancy many years back, when in happier days I had listened to the same familiar strains in the nursery, in the village church, or, perhaps, at some rustic camp-meeting. A thousand fond and long-forgotten associations were crowded instantly on my mind, and I surrendered unconsciously to a delightful revery. And, indeed,

my dear S , I have often wondered of late years that

this class of Christians should endeavor to introduce choirs and new-fangled music in their churches ! They destroy, by this means, one of the principal charms of their worship. The moment that native melody is restrained, and the untaught peasant- debarred from mingling his voice in unison with those around him, genuine Methodism will begin to retrograde.

The prayer followed — chaste, unostentatious, uttered with becoming decorum and mildness, though fervent and inspiring ; but, if the responses had not been so general, I should have pronounced it somewhat too protracted. All was now attention for the exordium of the sermon, and the text was most aptly selected. It was the beautiful and touching parable of the rich man and Lazarus. The first half hour of the discourse was consumed in a learned and ingenious exposition of the doctrinal points involved, which, though intensely interesting and instructive, failed utterly to produce that effect for which I had been prepared from the annunciation of the subject, and which was indispensable to the accomplishment of my wishes. But the peroration exceeded my expectation, and, despite every effort to the contrary, my own philosophy of mind was disarmed, and I was borne forcibly along in the current of feeling which was fast overwhelming the audience. The splendid fortune and sumptuous living of the nabob were most touchingly contrasted with the privations and sorrows of the suffering beggar who lay at his gate. You could almost see the sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks of the one as he reveled gayly with friends over his wines and viands ; and then your ears were seemingly appalled by the groans of the other as the pitying dogs licked his sores. There, before you, were the sunken eyes, and wan countenance, and sickly smile, as he welcomed the friendly animals ; and a happy illustration presented vividly to mind his choking thoughts, which found no utterance, as his fancy wandered to the distant home he was never again to behold, with its happy faces, and cheerful comforts, and simple abundance.

Scarcely a dry eye was to be seen ; and when, at the closing scene of life, the celestial messengers were pictured descending to bear to Abraham's bosom the despised and neglected sufferer, the passage of the breeze, or the rustling of a silk dress as some weeping female changed her position, might have been insensibly mistaken for the flutter of angel wings, wafting the loathed burden to a happy home in heaven. Sobs and groans became universal, and the calmness of the preacher himself gave way before the vivid imagery of his own active powers. Such is the force of true pulpit eloquence when intended to reach the heart through the medium of the sympathies. There sat those whose bread of life was drawn from the distresses and misfortunes of friends and neighbors, weeping as if their hearts would burst. There sat the grasping and avaricious absorbed in grief; and the ambitious, and the proud, and the revengeful, all alike carried away by a gush of tender emotions. There were the prodigal, and the indifferent, and the unbelieving, surprised into a state of overpowering sensibility. There were the truly pious, the amiable, and the beautiful, all bathed in tears ! Great God ! what a mysterious organ is this human heart ! The seat alike of all that is vicious and all that is good, philosophy has been unable to bare its recesses or explain its contradictions ; religion itself has failed w^holly to subdue its impulses.

I have ever, my dear S , since that Sabbath morning, loved to attend Methodist worship ; and though seldom in the habit of such visits, the associations produced by the one in question have ever dwelt green in my memory.

Chapter II. The Dun Gentlemen Of Town

Memory, or association, my dear S , is the true

source of pure intellectual pleasure, and the gift of this faculty is strong proof of the celestial nature of man. Few hours of our life are filled up with objects adequate to the mind. We are so often in want of present pleasure or enjoyment that we are forced to have recourse every moment to the past or the future, and thus, as Johnson so aptly says, seek to relieve the vacuities of our being. The satisfactions arising from memory are the only joys, indeed, which we can call our own. The present, as the same writer tells us, is in perpetual motion, leaves us as soon as it arrives, ceases to be present before its presence is well perceived, and is only known to have existed by the effects which it leaves behind, or the hopes which it excites for the future. But whatever of solace or of pleasure we find in the sacred treasures of the jyast, is out of reach of violence, or accident, nor are to be lost either by our own weakness or another's malice.

Be fair or foul, or rain or shine,

The joys I have possessed in spite of fate are mine ;

Not heaven itself upon the j;as< has power,

But what has been has been, and I have had my hour.

Dryden.

The preceding number was partly intended, my dear

S , to illustrate what has here been said, inasmuch

as it exampled the power and pleasure of association suggested by passing scenes, clothing the present with an ephemeral fascination, drawn, by association, from the pure fountain of departed joys. Others, however, less charitable than yourself, and more inclined to fastidious criticism, may choose to attribute very different intentions as the groundwork of the former number, and seek to connect with untasteful satire what was designed merely as mirthful, harmless sketches. Well, be it so. If we make the praise or blame of others the sole rule of our conduct, we shall soon be distracted by a boundless variety of irreconcilable judgments, and held in perpetual suspense between contrary impulses. Being first satisfied that he has not deviated from the established rules of composition, every writer, if not every man, should regulate his actions by his own conscience, and shun the error of attempting to secure popularity by a solicitous conformity to prevailing prejudices, and an undue submission to advice and criticism. It is easy to foretell the fate of productions squared and fashioned by this Procrustean pattern. They soon sink into unpalatable commonplaces, and oftentimes inspire a merited disgust. — It is conceded on all sides that society, in its different features and divisions, is a legitimate subject for the exercise of pen, ink, and paper; and, proceeding on this admission, writers should resolutely adopt the Crocket motto, taking care to observe jealously all the decent and becoming proprieties which regulate social intercourse. I have as little respect as any one, dear

S , for that class of mortals who aim to criticise without first learning to indite, and who seek to gain by a system of depreciation that notoriety which true ambition contemns. Let us, then, without assuming to rebuke errors at which all connive, or to reform customs in which society habitually indulges, not so much to its detriment as to its confusion, endeavor in pursuing the leisure sketches to proceed a la mode — and that, too, in its common, not in the literal or vernacular sense.

I have often heard you lament, my dear S , that

Columbus was so barren of legendary or romantic association. Indeed, as to this, one only spot of all its various, imposing and tasteful local beauties is connected with superstitious incident — and that has yet failed to elicit attention from the pen of a tourist or tale-teller. It may do so in the course of the present year; and, as I shall doubtless have some acquaintance with the author, you, my fair friend, may be assured that a copy shall reach yoa, even in the distant and lovely retreat which you have chosen. But there is much to admire in the boldness and novelty of much of its scenery. There is the tall and abrupt bluff which overlooks the blue stream of the Bigbee, lined with green shrubs, and fragrant wild flowers, and blooming vines, and towering trees all beautifully reflected on the crystal bosom of the river beneath, and luxuriating in the grandeur of primitive and undisturbed regularity ! On its summits you may see the smoke curling gracefully up from many a cottage chimney ; and beyond, the eye is greeted with a beautiful plain widening gradually out, and covered with handsome residences, which wealth and taste have united to adorn, smiling in all the cherished luxury of domestic comfort and happiness. From yonder eminence on the Tuscaloosa road, the traveler beholds with delight, not unmixed with some wonder, the miniature panorama of a Mahometan city, rising suddenly to the vision in the interior of a country not famed for its improvements, with domes, and spires, and cupolas, looming in the distance, to gigantic proportions, and dazzling the eye with their glittering summits ! No town of its size in the Union can boast of a like imposing and showy array in this respect ; and if we are driven to admit that taste is not so generally diffused as some might desire, we may at least challenge emulation in the way of architectural improvement. Passing the main thoroughfares of the little city, we find the plain on which it is situated broken suddenly into formidable ravines, and wild dells, and gentle undulating hills which are occasionally crowned with lovely rural retreats, where the comforts of the country and the conveniences of town may be alike enjoyed. Surely,

then, my dear S , our dull, dry, stale Columbus (as

it is often called) is not wholly without its claims to interest ; and if we will only bring the imagination from its wandering flights to our own homely firesides, we shall discover that scenes with which we are, perhaps, disagreeably familiar, may borrow at least a passing effulgence.

From the number of church edifices which are interspersed through the city, one might be led unwarily to

the conclusion, my dear S , that little else was

thought of besides prayers and preaching. This, however, would be a rash and unjust conclusion, involving a charge of indifference to the " creature comforts" of this life highly injurious to the active character of its good citizens. Alas! the world, with its carnal weaknesses and covetous desires, still manages in the midst of all these magnificent offerings to religion to hold its own most wondrously well ; and trade is pushed, and pelf puffed, and wealth worried after, and dollars are doubled just the same as elsewhere.

We must beg our kind readers, dear S , to indulge

us with one number, whilst we take them through the Cerean mysteries necessary to elucidate the grounds taken above. And they must be informed, imprimis, that the world is so far nip and tuck in the race with the doctrine of self-denial that our town, as well as others, hath actually and verily sprouted from its abundance of worldly proclivities a homilitical species, or novel profession, which has totally demolished lawyers and constabulary agents. This demolition is so far perfected that the last are here exposed as much as any other class of citizens to the raking fire of these paper-tongued neophytes, whose respectability (though surely unquestionable) is only to be equaled by their admirable assiduity. To define more clearly, I must declare them to be a collateral estate or invention wisely thrust in between the rights of creditors and the tardy remedies of law, to aid the fiscal pugnacity of the first, and to particularize the lamentable universality of the last.

I wish it distinctly remembered that the 7icophyfes deal exclusively in small matters ; as for those of larger dimensions, the superabundance of our town hath carefully and ingeniously provided a higher order of remedy. These neophytes are a distinct and peculiar genus. Like the lilies of the field, "they toil not, neither do they spin," having imbibed the very singular idea that others should "toil and spin" for them. Yet they are by no means loafers; as, although claiming an equal right with this harmless and respectable gentry in the amusement of hox-grinding, they yet go further, and assert what loafers would scorn to own, that grinding mankind is a far more profitable operation than grinding boxes, and that the last is only allowable on the ground of aiding to perform the first more successfully. They are besides remarkable for greatly mistrusting human memory, and are absolutely desperate for fear of being forgotten between the lapse of one day and another. This will account for their commendable anxiety to aid the first by continuous and friendly remembrances, and must excuse the means they select to guard against the latter catastrophe. They certainly are the most high-headed and independent class in town, and, if the Mayor and Selectmen only knew it, might be made the most eflficient policemen. Bow-Street runners in London, with all the terrible associations which cling around that awful name, were never so dreaded as are those neophytes of Main and Market. They take the street with an air of consequence and confidence most admirable to observe, and guard the corners with an alacrity and vigilance which would have caused Cerberus to drop his tail in his very best days. Such is the wholesome influences inspired by their presence that few like to take the risk of a personal encounter, and none are rash enough to accost them without being first saluted. It is doubtful whether a mariner uses half the finesse and tacking to get around Cape Horn that an ordinary man employs to steer clear of a Columbus shark. (There are a genus of ea:^raordinary men, who always go around them with smooth sailing. JVoux verrons.) To exemplify the amount of independence and importance which attach to these neophytes, they may, at any time, parade the street from the Court-house to the Eagle Hotel, whilst before their august strides lawyers, and magistrates, and sheriffs, and constables will be seen to fly_ alike in dismay, and seek the darkness of a convenient alley as the best of earthly friends. No sooner is one descried than the cry of sauve qui pent is more hurriedly ejaculated in a crowd of lagging debtors than it was amongst the terrified masses of Napoleon on the fatal of day Waterloo.