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Southern Field and Fireside.
VOL. 1.
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
ft TO THE SISTER OF MY BOYHOOD’S FRIEND.
BY W. (iII.MORF. SIMMS.
<4 Sweet lady, In the name of ope no more,
Both of u» loved and neither shall forget,
\ Make me thy brother, tho' our hearts tiefore,
p Perchance, have never in communion met;
Give me thy gentle memories, though there be,
P Betwixt our forms, some thousand miles of sea,
I. Wild tract and tangled forest; —let me still,
What e’er the joy that cheers me, or the thrill
'( That tortures, and from which I may not flee,
j Hold a sweet, sacred place within thy breast!
In this, my spirit shall be more than blest;
And, in my prayers—if haply prayer of mine,
m fie not a wrong unto a soul like thine—
' There shall be blessings from the skies for thee!
j October, 1532.
|> [Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
d Entered according to the Act of Congress, <fr., dtc.
by the Author.
I MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN;
f OR,
£ A YOUTH OF BRILLIANT TALENTS,
j> WHO WAS KUINED BY BAD LUCK.
f BY THE AUTHOR OF THE GEORGIA SCENES, ETC.
L The Captain had no difficulty in finding the
" road to Parson Smith’s, but ho had great difticul
» • ty in solving a mystery which presented itself
to him as soon as he reached it. As the road
ft was but little traveled, the tracks of the cart
j wheels and of old Bald remained entirely unob
literated. They proved to be the same that he
f had caught glimpses of on the way, and suppos
ed to be Tom’s tracing; but while they showed
V plainly that he had gone to the Parson’s, there
v was no sign that he had returned to the direct
, road from the Parson’s. This perplexed him
seriously, and made him wonder whether Tom
ft had not gone to a camp-meeting with the Par
j' son. There was no alternative, so he deterrain
' ed to go to the Parson’s even at the hazard of
f getting a more serious lecture from him than he
had already received from oue of his Hock. He
V soon reached the house, and saw a lady standing
. in the door. He called to her to know “whether
, Parson John Smith liked there ?” The lady
looked at him intently, but gave him no answer,
ft He repeated the question, but still received no
A response. “Why what upon earth does the wo
man mean?” muttered he. “If there was a fa
d tal disease on this earth called 'The Woman,' I
should die of it, to a dead certainty.” At length
V the kind woman broke silence:
p “Light and come in, and warm yourself?”
“No, I thank you, madam, I am not cold, and
am in a great hurry. Did a negro man stop here
ft with a cart and a blaze-faced horse, yesterday ?”
The lady made no answer, but advanced slow
ly towards him. Coming near the chaise she
d said: “You’ll have to speak a little loud tome;
I’m a little hard of hearing.”
\ “Is this Parson Smith’s ?” asked the Captain
* in a pretty loud tone.
“Yes, sir.” A
j Where is he?”
ft “He’s at the pig-pen, sp ’tending to his
A Pigs.”
I “Did a negro man and a blaze-faced horse
d stop here yesterday ?”
“You’ll have to speak a little loud to me; I’m
\ a little hard of hearing.”
p The Captain repeated the question louder.
“I think he did.”
“Which way did he go?”
ft “Sir?”
a “Which-way-did-the-negro-boy-go ?” bawled
i the Captain to the top of his voice.
d “Well, I’m not so deaf as all that comes to—l
’ think he went round the lot there.”
\ The Captain wheeled oft’, soon struck the
P trail, and “opened on it” loudly.
At the true John Smith’s, he learned the his
f* tory of Tom for the preceding night. Smith
ft told him that he had given Tom such directions
* as would carry him on his way through Wash
? ington.
d The Captain pushed on through the village,
sti uck the trail on the Petersburg road, followed
\ it for two miles, and stopped for the night at
P Mr. Brown’s. Brown told him that Tom had
passed there early on the preceding morning,
and that this was all the information he could
ft give of him, except that he seemed to be getting
along very well. A little after night-fall anoth
er gentleman stopped at Brown’s, whom the
d landlord greeted with all the cordiality of inti
mate friendship under the name of Col. White.
\ “Here’s a man,” said Brown, ‘Vho can probably
P tell you something about your boy; he lives
right-on the road about five miles this side of
Petersburg. A boy, “continued Brown to White,
ft “in a cart, with a balled-sorrell in it”
a “Oh yes,” said White, “he stopped at my
house and enquired for 'the Hobat,' but I un
rderstood him and put him in the road to Reho
both." x
\ At Col. White’s, Tom was much nearer to
P Doctor Waddel’s than he was to “the Hobat;”
j JAYIES GARDNER, I
I Proprietor. J
AUGUSTA. GA., SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1859.
but he had promised “to go like a streak of
lightning,” and he was verifying his pledge.
As his game had "doubled,” the Captain de
termined to quit the trail and push directly for
Rehoboth. By this movement he had gained
greatly upon Tom; but not enough to overtake
him that day. Wo will not detain the reader
with further particulars of the chase; suffice it
to say that about two hours by sun on the third
day, in a rugged by-way, about two hundred
yards from the highway leading from Augusta
to Barkesdale’s Ferry, and about three miles
from the ferry, he came up with Tom under very
interesting circumstances. On a washed hill
side, Tom, as a classic reader is reported to
have said,“in trying to avoid Skilly he had rushed
upon Caribogus”—or (leaving the classics) in
trying to avoid a deep gully on the one hand,
he had run over a log on the other; and though
he did not quite upset his cart, he tilted it far
enough to pour out both boxes into the gully.
The top of one of the boxes was so far opened
by the fall that it discharged four biscuit and
was two crackers in the gully. The top of the other
burst entirely off, and the tumblers of preserves
were broken, having delivered a part of their
contents to the top of the box, part to the pack
age, part to the road, and having retained a part.
As the buscuit and crackers were too dirty to
tie replaced, as the jelly and jam were irretriev
ably lost to William, and as Tom, from fatigue
and long fa-ning, was very hungry, he rightly
conceived that he could make no better use of
them, than to eat them. As well as he could
with a biscuit, he cleaned the package, then the
board, (which happened to rest bottom upward)
then skimmed the top oft’ what was on the
ground, and topped oft’ with what was left in
the tumblers. As ho did not observe the rule
of proportion in eating, his buiscuit and crackers
gave out before he had dispatched the last tum
bler, and he was just wiping it out with his fore
finger, and sucking it, when the Captain came
up with him.
“Lor gor’a’mighty, Mas David!” exclaimed
Tom as the Captain approached him, “I never
was so glad to see any body in all my born days.
These people bout here been’ foolin’ me all day
long ”
“How did you get here, you woolly-headed
scoundrel ?”
“One man tole me L’d save three mile by
cornin’ this way.”
As the captain got to saying bad words again
early in the interview, notwithstanding the lec
ture he had received, and as what farther passed
between him and Tom was of little interest, we
omit it. As they were now but about six miles
from Willington, the Captain very reluctantly
concluded to pilot Tom himself for the remain
der of the way. The idea of appearing at WL
lington, with a cart load of provisions for his
nephew, was very annoying; but the thought of
lugging them all the way home again, and dis
appointing his sister, was still more annoying;
so he chose the least painful alternative.
Things were righted, and the two set out for
the ferry. They reached it and found a wagon
waiting the return of the flat from the South
Carolina side. His heart leaped at this good
fortune, for he knew that the wagon could hard
ly cross without going through Willington. He
was not disappointed. The wagoner lived but
five miles from Willington, was going through
it, and knew everybody who lived within six
miles of it. The Captain took his name, placed
the boxes and Mrs. Mitten’s letter in his charge,
offered to pay freight, but the wagoner would
receive nothing, placed Tom’s unexpended cash
(seven dollars) in his hands for William, dropped
a line in pencil to Newby explaining things,
and set his face homeward rejoicing. Nothing
of interest occurred on the way back. The Cap
tain’s good fortune prepared him for receiving
Tom’s account of his adventures which were
wonderful indeed, and which Tom never got
done recounting during his life. The moral of
it, as drawn by himself, may perchance boos
service to the reader: “If I had forty thousand
niggers, I’d never sen’one so far from home by
he’self ’less he know de road firs’ chop.”
The Captain reached home early on the fifth
day from his departure. He gave the particu
lars of his trip to his wife and sister by snatches,
as he happened to lie in the humor, until they
were all told. The fate of the jelly and jam
was very provoking to Mrs. Mitten who was
“sure if she had been there, she could have
saved some of it.” The Captain was too busy
to visit the public square for more than a week
after his return; and his visits were very brief
for more than a fortnight. But Tom became for
a long while a distinguished character on the
square.
CHAPTER XV.
Things get along smoothly—Master Mitten im
proves wonderfully in a manner unlooked so
Captain Thomps>m and his sister attend the
public Examination of Dr. Waddel's School —
Both delighted.
The incidents of the last chapter were, upon
the whole, fortunate. They cured Mrs. Mitten
of sending delicacies to her son, cured W illiam
of his complaints for many months, improved
his style when speak.ng of his Preceptor, brought
him out in suitable apparel for his place and as
sociates, and sprung all the energies of his
mother to reconcile herself to his lot. When so
much is said, the reader need not be told that
Captain Thompson was also a great gainer by
them. Things now went on more smoothly than
they had for years. William soon stood a head
and shoulders above any member of his class.
The Georgians began to brag on him, the Caroli
nians to emulate him. He began to mingle in
the active sports of his fellows, to be cheerful, if
not forward, in sharing his part in providing
fuel and making fires. His new clothes, to be
sure, did not quite reach him before he “blossom
ed,” for he kept the changes of his first supply
as long out of sight as possible; but he was far
from being in full bloom when “the fruits of
home industry” reached him. Immediately
upon their arrival, he appeared in the handy
work of Mrs. Thurlow and Mrs. Figgs, and
Brace’s lips were closed to all further sarcasm
upon hiS dress. In short, he followed his uncle’s
advice as well as he could, and forthwith began
to experience the practical benefits of it. His
new clothes “scratched him mightily at first, but
he had got used to them,” ns he wrote to his
mother; but he thanked her for them. The
change in his dress was not much more remark
able than the change in his physical constitu
tion.
From a weakly, puny, cowering, retiring, say
nothing boy, he became a muscular, active,
sprightly, vigorous youth, who was nearly a
match for any of his age, in running, jumping,
wrestling, and the active sports of the school;
and for loud clamoring, at bull-pen, and town
ball, he had no superior. There was but one
South Carolinian in the school who could throw
him down, and that one was Andrew Govnu ;
there was not one in the school who could match
him in running. From fifty lips the exclamation
would come : “Did you ever see a lellow come
out of the kinks as Bill Mitten has ?” By the
time it came to his turn to make fires in the
Academy, (one of the duties of every student)
he was as prompt and skilful in this work as
most of his associates. Sweeping out the Acad
emy (another duty) of course was easy. Be
yond all this, there was nothing remarkable in
his history until the annual examination and ex
hibition came on. These exercises continued
for several days and they were attended by
multitudes —more, by many, than usually attend
our College Commencements in these days. The
order was as follows : First, the examination of
all the classes ; which was invariably conduct
ed by the visitors, except when they declined
the task, and this rarely occurred. Then speak
ing, for which prizes were awarded. And lastly,
the performance of one or two dramatic pieces,
usually a comedy or farce : but these were dis
continued after the first and only public exhibi
tion in which William Mitten took part, and the
reading of compositions was substituted for them.
The speakers were divided into three classes, ac
cording to their age and advancement; the first
class being composed generally of the oldest
students in the school; the second, of those
next in years ; and the third, of the youngest,
excluding those in the elementary studies. This
arrangement was not always observed, however.
Sometimes the larger and less advanced were
put in the first class, and the smaller and more
advanced, in the second class. William’s age
Hung him into the lowest, though his advance
ment would have entitled him to a place in the
second. The examination approached, and Wil
liam wrote pressingly to his mother and uncle
to attend. They did so, and reached Newby’s
the day before the exercises commenced. Wil
liam recognized them at the fence, and ran out
to meet them. Neither of them knew him, till
he greeted them, any more than if they had
never seen him. His fine face was there, a lit
tle tanned, but that was all of William Mitten
that was left. He had grown like a weed, and
develo|ied as we have said. The Captain looked
at him in triumph —the mother in tears. Mr.
Newby was soon at the chaise and introduced to
Mrs. M. Five or six ladies were standing at his
door, observing the new comers.
“I fear, Mr. Newby,” said Captain Thompson,
“that you will not be able to accommodate us.”
“Oh, very easy, if you can rough It a little for
a few days.”
“Why’ where will you put us ? Your house
seems full already.”
“Oh, we’ve plenty of houses, as you see.”
“But those are the students’ houses; what
are you going to do with them ?’’
“Oh, we cotton them upon such occasions as
this if necessary.”
“ Cotton them ?”
“Yes ; put ’em all in one hole and ram them
tight together. However, I don't think that
will be necessary. We’ve two large rooms in
the house, in one of which we will put the la
dies. and in the other the gentlemen.”
“Well, that will answer very well,” said the
Captain. “Do you take charge of Mrs. Mitten,
and William and Tom and I will attend to the
horses and baggage.”
“Why, this is a new horse, Tom,” said Wil
liam, as he sprung to unsaddle a horse which
Tom had led up. “Whose is he ?”
“He’s Mas David’s. He say if you do well
while lie’s up here, he gwiue to give him to you.
He’s a tip top hos.”
“Well, I’ve got him safe,’’ said Bill. “What’s
his name ?”
“He name Snap Dragjum.'\ (Snap Dragon.)
“Here, Tom,” said the Captain, “take this
trunk in the house ”
“I'll take it, Uncle,” said William.
“You can’t carry it, my son; it’s pretty heavy.”
“Let me try it,” said Bill; so saying, he Hung
it on his shoulder, and inarched off with it, with
perfect ease.
“Look ya-a-nder!” exclaimed Tom, as he mov
ed off. “Bless de Lor,’ Mas’ William done got
a man ’ready.”
The Captain saw him near the door with his
burden without a totter, then turned, wiped
his eyes twice, and was just blowing his nose
the third time, when William leaped the fence,
to assist Tom in leading the horses to the horse
lot.
“Why, Bill,” said the Captain, “I never saw
a boy improve as you have in all my life.”
The ladies gathered at Mr. Newby’s were all
of the first respectability. They soon made Mrs.
Mitten easy, and before they parted, several of
them and Mrs. Mitten promised to interchange
visits most certainly “if ever they came our way.”
(They never came our way.)
The night shut in and the woods were vocal in
all directions with rehearsals of speeches and
parts of plays. A very comfortable supper was
provided for the guests, (increased by several,
after tho Captain’s arrival) the mattresses were
spread, all laid down, the gentlemen talked
till twelve, the ladies till two, and all was
hush—save here unAtherc “the bubbling cry of
some strong” snorer “in his agony.” They were
all, of necessity, up betimes the next morning,
when they declared generally that they had “had
a most delightful night’s rest.” Thus passed a
wonderful night for Mrs. Mitten.
The next morning exhibited a complete meta
morphosis of the students. It was easy now
to distinguish the sons of the Patricians from
those of the Plebs, though turkey-red and indi
go-blue predominated largely over nankeen and
gingham still.
From seven o’clock till nine, people of all
ranks, ages, sexes, and sizes, might be seen
wending their way to the school house, or rather
to the area in front of it—for the examination
was conducted under the stately oaks of the
campus. Some of the first men of the two
States were there. At nine the examination
commenced. The students, with very few ex
ceptions, acquitted themselves admirably. In
all the studies of his class, William distinguished
himself. On this day an incident occurred which
was absolutely luxurious to all who disliked
Brace. The reader need hardly be told that
however bright in wit or ingenious in teasing
Brace might bo, he was not very bright in his
studies. He was in one of the Virgil classes, and
he had caught fn m a st dmt, given to spouting
poetry aloud, whenever he had any in store to
spout, the four first lines of Dryden’s translation
of tho second book of the A£niad. Doctor John
Casey was conducting tho examination, Hanked
on his right and left with an imposing row of
dignitaries. “Begin,” said the Doctor to Ned, who
was at one extremo of the class in more senses
than one, “at the second Book of the ACnaid, and
read the Latin first.” __ Ned did so to the extent
of six or eight lines.
“Now translate. ”
Ned proceeded:
“All were attentive to the God-like man.
When from his lofty couch he thus began.”
A roar of laughter burst from every one—
loudest from the boys; for two reasons, first,
because they gloried in Brace’s mortification;
and second, because they wished the company
to understand from this token that they were
thoroughly versed in the poetry of all languages
under the sun.
“Give us the' translation in prose if you
please,” said the Doctor.
Ned continued:
“Great Queen, what you command me to relate,
Reviews the sad remembrance of our fate.”
The laugh was repeated, but the Doctor had
no occasion to repeat his request; for Ned had
exhausted his stock of poetry. His debut was
doubly unfortunate ; for besides exposing him
to ridicule, it left him wholly in the dark as to
how much of the Latin his version had covered.
So he began his literal translation two lines back
of what he had already rendered; and Dryden
would have been amazed to discover how be
had butchered the Mantuan Bard, according to
Brace’s translation.
This day and the next were consumed in like
manner. On the third day the speaking com
menced.
A stage of rough plank was erected adjoining
the school-house. On this sat the Judges, of
whom William H. Crawford, John C. Calhoun,
and William W. Bibb were three. These hardly
ever failed to attend the public exercises of Doc
tor Waddel’s school. The two first had been
his pupils, and the reader will excuse the di
gression, to learn that the first wife of the Doc
tor was the sister of the second.
In front of the stage, large logs were laid par
allel to each other on which planks were placed
at convenient distances apart, for seats. The
( T%vo Dollars Per Annum, I
| Always In Advance. j
whole were covered over with a bush-arbor.—
It was but a scant provision for the throng that
attended upon this occasion ; but what provision
could accommodate all, when the number fell
little, if any, short of two thousand people ?
The ladies, several hundreds in number, occupied
all the seats.
Without going through the details of the ex
ercises, suffice it to say that Mitten took the pre
mium in his class by the award of the judges,
approved of by every man, woman and student
present at the exhibition. He had a part in
both the dramatic pieces; and here he acquitted
himself, if possible, with more credit than in
declamation. When Mr. Calhoun, with a few
complimentary words, presented him the prize,
the whole assembly applauded loudly and cor
dially. One pretty little girl, beautifully dress
ed, quite forgot herself, and kept on clapping
after every body else had done, till her mother,
laughing most heartily, stopped her. “Mitten,
Mitten, Mitten 1” was on every lip. All the la
dies, old and young, wanted to kiss him ; all the
little girls fell in love with him. A thousand
compliments saluted the ear of Mrs. Mitten from
lips that she knew not Through Captain
Thompson she had been made acquainted with
Doctor Waddel before the exercises commenced,
and through him, with most of the gentlemen
who sat as judges,;and her acquaintance was still
farther extended by the sojourners at Mr. New
by’s ; but now everybody sought an introduction
to her, and everybody congratulated her upon
the performonee of her son.
Most of the judges waited upon her, and all
of them had something flattering to say of Wil
liam, or to him in her presence, for he was al
ways at her side.
“Master Mitten,” said Mr. Crawford, “I am
proud to claim you as a Georgian. Cultivate
your brilliant talents as a duty and an honor to
the State that gave you birth.”
“Master Mitten,” said Mr. Calhoun, “the Uni
ted States have an interest in you; and should ,
I live to see you in the prime of life, I shall be
sorely disappointed if I do not see you the ad
miration of them all.”
As for Captain Thompson, he was in danger
of going off by explosion. He had been filling
up with joy, from the first sight of Bill, to the
close of the exhibition; and now to find him so
far surpassing his most sanguine expectations
in every thing, to see him standing at the head
of his classes in scholarship, and declamation,
and ahead of the whole school in dramatic tal
lent, to hear him applauded by all, and specially
by Messrs. Crawford and Calhoun, and (though
last not least,) to see bis sister almost in trans
ports, was really perilous to the good Captain.
He had tried to quench the volcano that was in
him with rain; that is to say, he had cried six
times, twice secretly, and four times publicly;
but this gave him only momentary relief. Be
sides, the fire kept kindling all the time, and he
could not keep crying all the time. Whitherso
ever he cast his eyes he saw something to in
flame his ecstacy, and what would have been the
consequence it were hard to tell, had not David
Ramsay sauntered near him just at the critical
moment —“Why, David my young pilot, how do
you do?” said the Captain. “Come here, my
son, and let me introduce you to Mrs. Mitten,
my sister, mother of William. Anna, this is
David Ramsay of whom you have heard me
speak 1” “How do you do, Master Ramsay,”
said Mrs. Mitten, smiling almost to a laugh. “I
am very familiar with your name, for my brother
could talk of no one else for some time after his
return from his first visit to this place.”
“I remember Captain Thompson very well;
but I cannot call to mind anything that I said or
d.d to make him remember me.”
Here the Captain was a little at fault, but be
soon rallied and replied:
“It was your prompt courtesy to us as stran
gers, David, the coincidence of our names, but
most of all, your connections, who are known to
all, that impressed you so permanently upon my
memory. Ino sooner asked if Mr. At addel was
at home than you answered in the affirmative,
sprang to the door, invited me in, and brought
Mr. Waddel out to see me. This was but com
mon politeness, to be sure, but 1 did not see any
of your playmates offer to do the same thing.
But for your kindness I might have had to knock
long at the door, and sit long in the cold parlor,
before Mr. Waddel would liavo come to my re
lief.”
This interview was an admirable safety-valve
to the Captain. It set his thoughts to running
back to times and incidents, well calculated to
relieve him from over-pressure of joy.
The conversation with young Ramsay was
but just ended, when Doctor Hay stepped up
and greeted the Captain and his sister with a
fervor which showed plainly that time had not
abated his friendship for them in the least. The
greeting waa returned with equal warmth. —
The Doctor expressed his regret that he had
been detained by professional business at home
until the last day of the exhibition; but added,
that he had been amply compensated for his
trouble in coming, by the rich entertainment he
had just enjoyed—“An entertainment, Mrs. Mit
ten,” continued he, “to which your son was the
largest contributor. I deem myself fortunate,
NO. 14.
