Part 14

Aunt was a great manager of her time, and always contrived to create leisure hours for reading; for that kind of conversation, which is properly styled gossiping, she had the utmost contempt. Light, superficial reading, such as merely fills a blank in time, and glides over the mind without leaving an impression, was little known there; for few books crossed the Atlantic but such as were worth carrying so far for their intrinsic value. She was too much accustomed to have her mind occupied with objects of real weight and importance, to give it up to frivolous pursuits of any kind. She began the morning with reading the scriptures. They always breakfasted early, and dined two hours later than the primitive inhabitants, who always took that meal at twelve. This departure from the ancient customs was necessary in this family, to accommodate the great numbers of British as well as strangers from New-York, who were daily entertained at her liberal table. This arrangement gave her the advantage of a longer forenoon to dispose of. After breakfast she gave orders for the family details of the day, which, without a scrupulous attention to those minutiæ which fell more properly under the notice of her young friends, she always regulated in the most judicious manner, so as to prevent all appearance of hurry and confusion. There was such a rivalry among domestics, whose sole ambition was her favour, and who had been so trained up from infancy, each to their several duties, that excellence in each department was the result both of habit and emulation; while her young protégés were early taught the value and importance of good housewifery, and were sedulous in their attention to little matters of decoration and elegance, which her mind was too much engrossed to attend to; so that her household affairs, ever well regulated, went on in a mechanical kind of progress, that seemed to engage little of her attention, though her vigilant and overruling mind set every spring of action in motion. Having thus easily and speedily arranged the details of the day, she retired to read in her closet, where she generally remained till about eleven, when, being unequal to distant walks, the colonel and she, and some of her elder guests, passed some of the hotter hours among those embowering shades of her garden, in which she took great pleasure. Here was their lyceum; here questions in religion and morality, too weighty for table-talk, were leisurely and coolly discussed, and plans of policy and various utility arranged. From this retreat they adjourned to the portico; and while the colonel either retired to write, or went to give directions to his servants, she sat in this little tribunal, giving audience to new settlers, followers of the army left in hapless dependence, and others who wanted assistance or advice, or hoped she would intercede with the colonel for something more peculiarly in his way, he having great influence with the colonial government. At the usual hour, her dinner-party assembled, which was generally a large one; and here I must digress from the detail of the day to observe, that, looking up as I always did to madame with admiring veneration, and having always heard her mentioned with unqualified applause, I look often back to think what defects or faults she could possibly have to rank with the sons and daughters of imperfection, inhabiting this transitory scene of existence, well knowing, from subsequent observation of life, that error is the unavoidable portion of humanity. Yet of this truism, to which every one will readily subscribe, I can recollect no proof in my friend’s conduct, unless the luxury of her table might be produced to confirm it. Yet this, after all, was but comparative luxury. There was more choice and selection, and, perhaps, more abundance at her table, than those of the other primitive inhabitants; yet how simple were her repasts, compared to those with which the luxury of the higher ranks in this country offer to provoke the sated appetite. Her dinner-party generally consisted of some of her intimate friends or near relations; her adopted children, who were inmates for the time being; and strangers sometimes invited, merely as friendless travellers, on the score of hospitality, but often welcomed for some time as stationary visitors, on account of worth or talents, that gave value to their society; and lastly, military guests, selected with some discrimination, on account of the young friends, whom they wished not only to protect, but cultivate by an improving association. Conversation here was always rational, generally instructive, and often cheerful. The afternoon frequently brought with it a new set of guests. Tea was always drank early here; and, as I have formerly observed, was attended with so many petty luxuries of pastry, confectionary, &c. that it might well be accounted a meal by those whose early and frugal dinners had so long gone by. In Albany it was customary, after the heat of the day was past, for the young people to go in parties of three or four, in open carriages, to drink tea at an hour or two’s drive from town. The receiving and entertaining this sort of company, generally was the province of the younger part of the family; and of these parties many came, in summer evenings, to the Flats, when tea, which was very early, was over. The young people, and those who were older, took their different walks, while madame sat in her portico, engaged in what might comparatively be called light reading, essays, biography, poetry, &c. till the younger party set out on their return home, and her domestic friends rejoined her in her portico, where, in warm evenings, a slight repast was sometimes brought; but they more frequently shared the last and most truly social meal within.

Winter made little difference in her mode of occupying her time. She then always retired to her closet to read at stated periods.

In conversation she certainly took delight, and peculiarly excelled, yet did not in the least engross it, or seem to dictate. On the contrary, her thirst of knowledge was such, and she possessed such a peculiar talent for discovering the point of utility in all things, that from every one’s discourse she extracted some information, on which the light of her mind was thrown in such a direction as made it turn to account. Whenever she laid down her book she took up her knitting, which neither occupied her eyes nor attention, while it kept her fingers engaged, thus setting an example of humble diligence to her young protégés. In this employment she had a kind of tender satisfaction, as little children, reared in the family, were the only objects of her care in this respect. For those, she constantly provided a supply of hosiery till they were seven years old, and after that, transferred her attention to some younger favourite. In her earlier days, when her beloved husband could share the gaieties of society, I have been told they both had a high relish for innocent mirth, and every species of humorous pleasantry; but in my time there was a chastened gravity in her discourse, which, however, did not repulse innocent cheerfulness, though it dashed all manner of levity, and that flippancy which great familiarity sometimes encourages among young people who live much together. Had madame, with the same good sense, the same high principle, and general benevolence towards young people, lived in society, such as is to be met with in Britain, the principle upon which she acted would have led her to have encouraged, in such society, more gaiety and freedom of manners. As the regulated forms of life in Britain set bounds to the ease that accompanies good breeding and refinement, generally diffused, supplies the place of native delicacy, where that is wanting, a certain decent freedom is both safe and allowable. But amid the simplicity of primitive manners, those bounds are not so well defined. Under these circumstances, mirth is a romp, and humour a buffoon; and both must be kept within strict limits.

CHAP. XXXI.

Family details.

THE hospitalities of this family were so far beyond their apparent income, that all strangers were astonished at them. To account for this, it must be observed that, in the first place, there was, perhaps, scarce an instance of a family possessing such uncommonly well-trained, active, and diligent slaves as those I describe. The set that were staid servants when they married, had some of them died off by the time I knew the family; but the principal roots from whence the many branches, then flourishing, sprung, yet remained. These were two women, who had come originally from Africa while very young; they were most excellent servants, and the mothers or grandmothers of the whole set, except of one white-woolled negro-man, who, in my time, sat by the chimney and made shoes for all the rest. The great pride and happiness of those sable matrons were, to bring up their children to dexterity, diligence, and obedience. Diana being determined that Maria’s children should not excel hers in any quality which was a recommendation to favour; and Maria equally resolved that her brood, in the race of excellence, should outstrip Diana’s. Never was a more fervent competition. That of Phillis and Brunetta, in the Spectator, was a trifle to it: and it was extremely difficult to decide on their respective merits; for though Maria’s son Prince cut down wood with more dexterity and despatch than any one in the province, the mighty Cæsar, son of Diana, cut down wheat, and threshed it, better than he. His sister Betty, who, to her misfortune, was a beauty of her kind, and possessed wit equal to her beauty, was the best sempstress and laundress, by far, I have ever known; and plain, unpretending Rachael, sister to Prince, wife to Titus, alias Tyte, and head cook, dressed dinners that might have pleased Apicius. I record my old humble friends by their real names, because they allowedly stood at the head of their own class, and distinction of every kind should be respected. Besides, when the curtain drops, or, indeed, long before it falls, it is, perhaps, more creditable to have excelled in the lowest parts, than to have fallen miserably short in the higher. Of the inferior personages, in this dark drama I have been characterizing, it would be tedious to tell: suffice it, that besides filling up all the lower departments of the household, and cultivating to the highest advantage a most extensive farm, there was a thorough-bred carpenter and shoemaker, and an universal genius who made canoes, nets, and paddles, shod horses, mended implements of husbandry, managed the fishing, in itself no small department, reared hemp and tobacco, and spun both; made cider, and tended wild horses, (as they called them,) which was his province to manage and to break. For every branch of the domestic economy, there was a person allotted—educated for the purpose; and this society was kept immaculate, in the same way that the quakers preserve the rectitude of theirs, and, indeed, in the only way that any community can be preserved from corruption; when a member showed symptoms of degeneracy, he was immediately expelled, or in other words more suitable to this case, sold. Among the domestics, there was such a rapid increase, in consequence of their marrying very early, and living comfortably without care, that if they had not been detached off with the young people brought up in the house, they would have swarmed like an over-stocked bee-hive.

The prevention of crime was so much attended to in this well-regulated family, that there was very little punishment necessary; none that I ever heard of, but such as Diana and Maria inflicted on their progeny, with a view to prevent the dreaded sentence of expulsion. Notwithstanding the petty rivalry between the branches of the two original stocks, intermarriages between the Montagues and Capulets of the kitchen, which frequently took place, and the habit of living together under the same mild, though regular government, produced a general cordiality and affection among all the members of the family, who were truly ruled by the law of love; and even those who occasionally differed about trifles, had an unconscious attachment to each other, which showed itself on all emergencies. Treated themselves with care and gentleness, they were careful and kind with regard to the only inferiors and dependants they had, the domestic animals. The superior personages in the family, had always some good property to mention, or good saying to repeat of those whom they cherished into attachment, and exalted into intelligence; while they, in their turn, improved the sagacity of their subject animals, by caressing and talking to them. Let no one laugh at this; for whenever man is at ease and unsophisticated, where his native humanity is not extinguished by want or chilled by oppression, it overflows to inferior beings, and improves their instincts to a degree incredible to those who have not witnessed it. In all mountainous countries, where man is more free, more genuine, and more divided into little societies much detached from others, and much attached to each other, this cordiality of sentiment, this overflow of good will takes place. The poet says,

“Humble love, and not proud reason, Keeps the door of heaven.”

This question must be left for divines to determine; but sure am I that humble love and not proud reason, keeps the door of earthly happiness, as far as it is attainable. I am not going, like the admirable Crichton, to make an oration in praise of ignorance; but a very high degree of refinement certainly produces a quickness of discernment, a niggard approbation, and a fastidiousness of taste, that find a thousand repulsive and disgusting qualities mingled with those that excite our admiration, and would, (were we less critical,) produce affection. Alas! that the tree should so literally impart the knowledge of good and evil; much evil and little good. It is time to return from this excursion to the point from which I set out.

The Princes and Cæsars of the Flats had as much to tell of the sagacity and attachments of the animals, as their mistress related of their own. Numberless anecdotes that delighted me in the last century, I would recount, but fear I should not find my audience of such easy belief as I was, nor so convinced of the integrity of my informers. One circumstance I must mention, because I well know it to be true. The colonel had a horse which he rode occasionally, but which oftener travelled with Mrs. Schuyler in an open carriage. At particular times, when bringing home hay or corn, they yoked Wolf, for so he was called, in a waggon; an indignity to which, for a while, he unwillingly submitted. At length, knowing resistance was vain, he had recourse to stratagem; and whenever he saw Tyte marshalling his cavalry for service, he swam over to the island, the umbrageous and tangled border of which I formerly mentioned; there he fed with fearless impunity till he saw the boat approach; whenever that happened, he plunged into the thicket, and led his followers such a chase, that they were glad to give up the pursuit. When he saw from his retreat that the work was over, and the fields bare, he very coolly returned. Being, by this time, rather old, and a favourite, the colonel allowed him to be indulged in his dislike to drudgery. The mind which is at ease, neither stung by remorse, nor goaded by ambition or other turbulent passions, nor worn with anxiety for the supply of daily wants, nor sunk into languor by stupid idleness, forms attachments and amusements, to which those exalted by culture would not stoop, and those crushed by want and care could not rise. Of this nature was the attachment to the tame animals, which the domestics appropriated to themselves, and to the little fanciful gardens where they raised herbs or plants of difficult culture, to sell and give to their friends. Each negro was indulged with his racoon, his great squirrel or muskrat, or perhaps his beaver, which he tamed and attached to himself, by daily feeding and caressing him in the farm-yard. One was sure about all such houses to find these animals, in whom their masters took the highest pleasure. All these small features of human nature must not be despised for their minuteness; to a good mind they afford consolation.

Science, directed by virtue, is a god-like enlargement of the powers of human nature; and exalted rank is so necessary a finish to the fabric of society, and so invariable a result from its regular establishment, that, in respecting those whom the divine wisdom has set above us, we perform a duty such as we expect from our own inferiors, which helps to support the general order of society. But so very few, in proportion to the whole, can be enlightened by science, or exalted by situation, that a good mind draws comfort from discovering even the petty enjoyments permitted to those in the state we consider most abject and depressed.

CHAP. XXXII.

Resources of madame—Provincial customs.

IT may appear extraordinary, with so moderate an income as could, in those days, be derived even from a considerable estate in that country, how madame found means to support that liberal hospitality which they constantly exercised. I know the utmost they could derive from their lands, and it was not much. Some money they had, but nothing adequate to the dignity, simple as it was, of their style of living, and the very large family they always drew round them. But with regard to the plenty, one might almost call it luxury, of their table, it was supplied from a variety of sources, that rendered it less expensive than could be imagined. Indians, grateful for the numerous benefits they were daily receiving from them, were constantly bringing the smaller game, and in winter and spring, loads of venison. Little money passed from one hand to another in the country; but there was constantly, as there always is in primitive abodes, before the age of calculation begins, a kindly commerce of presents. The people of New-York and Rhode-Island, several of whom were wont to pass a part of the summer with the colonel’s family, were loaded with all the productions of the farm and river. When they went home, they again never failed, at the season, to send a large supply of oysters and all other shell-fish, which at New-York abounded; besides great quantities of tropical fruit, which, from the short run between Jamaica and New-York, were there almost as plenty and cheap as in their native soil. Their farm yielded them abundantly all, that in general, a musket can supply; and the young relatives who grew up about the house, were rarely a day without bringing some supply from the wood or the stream. The negroes, whose business lay frequently in the woods, never willingly went there, or any where else, without a gun, and rarely came back empty-handed. Presents of wine, then a very usual thing to send to friends to whom you wished to show a mark of gratitude, came very often, possibly from the friends of the young people who were reared and instructed in that house of benediction; as there were no duties paid for the entrance of any commodity then, wine, rum, and sugar, were cheaper than can easily be imagined, and in cider they abounded.

The negroes of the three truly united brothers, not having home employment in winter, after preparing fuel, used to cut down trees, and carry them to an adjoining saw-mill, where, in a very short time, they made great quantities of planks, staves, &c., which is usually styled lumber, for the West-India market. And when a ship-load of their flour, lumber, and salted provisions was accumulated, some relative, for their behoof, freighted a vessel, and went out to the West-Indies with it. In this stygian schooner, the departure of which was always looked forward to with unspeakable horror, all the stubborn or otherwise unmanageable slaves were embarked, to be sold by way of punishment. This produced such salutary terror, that preparing the lading of this fatal vessel generally operated a temporary reform at least. When its cargo was discharged in the West-Indies, it took in a lading of wine, rum, sugar, coffee, chocolate, and all other West-India productions, paying for whatever fell short of the value—and returning to Albany, sold the surplus to their friends, after reserving to themselves a most liberal supply of all the articles thus imported. Thus they had not only a profusion of all the requisites for good house-keeping, but had it in their power to do what was not unusual there in wealthy families, though none carried it so far as these worthies.

In process of time, as people multiplied, when a man had eight or ten children to settle in life, and these marrying early, and all their families increasing fast, though they always were considered as equals, and each kept a neat house and decent outside, yet it might be that some of them were far less successful than others in their various efforts to support their families; but these deficiencies were supplied in a quiet and delicate way, by presents of every thing a family required, sent from all their connexions and acquaintances—which, where there was a continual sending back and forward of sausages, pigs, roasting-pieces, &c. from one house to another, excited little attention; but when aunt’s West-India cargo arrived, all the families of this description within her reach, had an ample boon sent them of her new supply.

The same liberal spirit animated her sister, a very excellent person, who was married to Cornelius Cuyler, then mayor of Albany, who had been a most successful Indian trader in his youth, and had acquired large possessions, and carried on an extensive commercial intercourse with the traders of that day, bringing from Europe quantities of those goods that best suited them, and sending back their peltry in exchange. He was not only wealthy, but hospitable, intelligent, and liberal-minded, as appeared by his attachment to the army, which was, in those days, the distinguishing feature of those who in knowledge and candour were beyond others. His wife had the same considerate and prudent generosity, which ever directed the humanity of her sister; though having a large family, she could not carry it to so great an extent.

If this maternal friend of their mutual relatives could be said to have a preference among her own and her husband’s relations, it was certainly to this family. The eldest son Philip, who bore her husband’s name, was on that and other accounts, a particular favourite, and was, I think, as much with them in childhood, as his attention to his education, which was certainly the best the province could afford, would permit.