Chapter 2: Young Lady Faire

When I turned fourteen and was confirmed at church, I stayed home, working beside Papa in the fields, tending the still and livestock. As the oldest son, I was expected to stay home and care for my parents as they aged, and to carry on my family’s moonshine business when Papa grew too old to work. Papa made dandelion and elderberry wines to age in the cellar, but he worked largely with corn whiskey called Bourbon. On occasion, I visited my sisters in Smithfield when Mama sent me on errands to row the scow downriver to town, where I tasted the rougher freedoms of town life, playing poque and billiards at the saloon and drinking my first lager. Papa never grew hops to make beer. I played games in the billiards room with friends once their work ended for the day. Often, I watched wealthy young men at home from their university play billiards to learn all the rules of the game. Once, a saloon barmaid named Rose held the room spellbound with her songbird voice, bright and aching like a lark at dawn. I admired her from afar, knowing my mother would never approve of a sinful woman under her roof. I received an education on what the upstairs chambers of the saloons look like: a set of ladies' bed chambers with mirrors, dressing tables, screens, and paintings on the walls. They certainly resemble the fancy guest rooms I’ve slept in. For five cents, I was given a bath in one of the tin tubs inside the washroom. The saloon girl entered to wash my hair and scrub my back. Sarah said I smelled nice when I arrived at her doorstep to drop off a baby blanket Mama knitted. Whatever temptations the town offered, I left them behind when I stepped back into the evening sun to head to Harriet’s house for supper. She told me her husband was rehearsing for a play at the opera house to perform in a month. I enjoyed church summer socials along the creek and harvest barn dances in the autumn. During the summer church picnic, I offered Mabel and her friends a ride on our river scow. Growing up into a young man, I had to learn the rules of polite society. Married men dance with only married women unless they are family. Single men dance with single ladies unless they are family. Mama also warned me of parents pushing their daughters towards me in hopes of marriage. I danced to a Virginia Reel with Mama. She warned me that some wealthy maidens may now be growing into snobbery, becoming aware of the line between rich and poor that is rarely crossed. They will be polite, pay a social call, give charity, but will never invite me to a party. Not every church member will be a true friend outside the church. Even the kind and generous Thompson family had never invited us to a party, not even a picnic. Feeling brave since we danced before, I asked Miss Mabel, clearly wearing her first corset, for a dance in the quadrille at the church harvest barn dance. The bodice of her gown was moist from bobbing for apples, and she was enjoying a piece of taffy she had pulled. She hesitated, glancing at her friends in their fine silks, listening to someone read “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by the bonfire outside, then looked back at me in my patched woolen Sunday suit. “It’s just a dance, not an execution, or worse, a marriage proposal.” I reacted. “It could be an execution if my friends disapprove,” she replied. “May I fetch a cup of punch for you then, if you refuse to dance with me and my patched wool suit?” I inquired. “Thank you, yes, you may fetch me some punch.” she said. I fetched the cup of punch. She slowly sipped it until it was gone. “Your mama says you are doing well in your classes at the academy. What are you learning there?” I inquired. “We learn Greek and Roman literature and arithmetic in classrooms, perform plays, pantomimes, and ballets in the theater, practice instruments and sing music from European composers in the music room for a recital, follow etiquette in society at the dining table, and create party menus as future hostesses. Once a week, we practice ballroom dancing manners with the boys' academy. They have a wonderful library full of history, geography, and novels.” she answered. “I would like to see you perform in the theater. I’ve never viewed a ballet before. What is a ballet?” I inquired. “It's a story told through pantomime dance, no talking or singing. Usually, we perform a fairy tale story like Cinderella or Snow White, but this Christmas, we will perform “La Vestale,” composed by a Frenchman during Emperor Napoleon’s reign, about forbidden love during the Roman Empire. The orchestra music is so emotional.” she explained. I had no idea what she was talking about, being uneducated and mostly illiterate, but I smiled and nodded, taking in every word just to stand next to her. “I would be happy to see you perform the ballet this Christmas. What does your academy charge to see the performance?” I inquired. “They don’t charge anything. They give us tickets to present to our families and friends, like our recitals that we perform. I will get you a ticket, and you may come with my parents. I’m sure they will not refuse to allow you to ride on Papa’s yacht. You can spend the night in the guest room at our cousin’s house cause the performance is always at night.” she said. “Thank you, Mabel. I would enjoy that.” I replied. “Yes,” she blurted out. “Yes, Mabel?” I inquired. “Yes, I will dance with you.” she admitted with a smile. She set her cup down, and we danced to the mazurka. Afterwards, she complimented my papa’s fiddle tunes as they began to play the Virginia Reel. Planter's son, Mr. Wilson, asked her to dance in the reel, and she left my company. Later, we talked about my life as a young man as we walked outside along the creek. She was fascinated by my tales of patronizing a saloon with dancing girls, gambling, and hard liquor. The billiards room at the saloon, full of gambling, was also full of tales of fights and the anger of losers. I explained the hands of poque played in the card room with my friends and learned the skill of bluffing. Girls smiled at me, calling me handsome, but I cannot marry because no lady would wish to live with my eleven siblings in the attic bedroom of our saddle house. Not unless she is just using me to escape her unfortunate family, as Mama instructed. My eldest sister, Harriet, married a dockworker who lived in a rented house in Smithfield. She started dressing ladies' hair in curls and braids, with elegant high-top knots, before they attended parties for extra income. She traveled all over town when balls and assembly dances were held. She often made bonnets and sold them to the milliner. She came over during the harvest to help pick vegetables and prepare the flax to make linen, receiving thirty cents per day or a large basket of food per week as payment. My sister Sarah married a blacksmith and soon became pregnant with her first child. They lived with his parents until he could obtain a rental house. His father is a blacksmith and engineer, installing fountains and pumps in wells. His mother was a governess to a planter’s family and an orphan from Raleigh. She taught my sister to read, write, and do arithmetic. She tats lace and makes bonnets to sell to the shops for additional income. Her husband is an infamous sot with a hot temper when he’s drunk, so she needed her own money to support their coming child. By law, she must have her husband’s permission to make her own income, and her husband has no objection to her making money for him to spend at the saloon. My mama earns income from selling things on the farm. I ran into my brother-in-law once at the saloon to let him join our game. He loved his Bourbon Whiskey and drank until he collapsed on the floor. I had the displeasure of guiding him home to my sister and his parents. “Why did your sister marry a man like that?” Mabel asked. “Probably because he is charming when he is sober,” I answered. “Ladies love charming men no matter how badly they behave.” “My friends say you have a flask of your papa’s whiskey,” she reacted. “You want a drink of it? Be careful around me when I get drunk; I might say things that would shock you.” I replied. “Like what?” she inquired. “Like gambling with your brothers during their university breaks. I once lost five dollars to your brother John in a billiards game, and your mama gave it back when the loss upset my mama that I gambled away the money that was going to buy us new shoes at the cobbler shop. I gambled trying to earn more money to buy her a new bonnet, and I lost it instead.” I declared. “Did you earn the money to buy her a new bonnet?” she inquired. “Not exactly. I confessed my sin to Papa, and he asked my sister Harriet to make up a bonnet for Mama. I gave it to her for Christmas. Harriet said it was a bonnet she failed to sell and didn’t charge me for it.” I explained. “That was irresponsible, losing money your family needed for shoes. What if my mama failed to give back the five dollars? Then what? I wonder if we should be friends anymore with the reputation you are obtaining. Mama says I should start learning to be cautious about who I let into my company. That’s why I hesitated when you asked me to dance. I don’t want your bad reputation to reflect poorly on me and cause me to lose friendships I hold dear.” Mabel explained. “Your brothers behave worse than me. Are we really friends, or am I just a poor white trash you give charity to? Sure, we attend the same church and pay social calls to each other, but do you really care about us, or do you do it out of obligation, being a good Christian as a rich planter’s daughter? I’ve never been invited to any of your birthday parties.” I asserted, and Mabel gasped. “You just broke my heart. I thought we were friends when we played together as children. And Mama never invited your family to my birthday parties because she didn’t want to burden you by making you bring gifts. I guess I was wrong about you, thinking you cared about me in return, and not using us for charity gifts. Excuse me, I need to return to the barn.” she confessed as tears streamed down her face. She turned away to return to the dance. I grabbed her arm, apologizing for her broken heart. I dabbed my handkerchief on her cheeks to wipe away her tears and returned it to my front jacket pocket. “You hurt me when rejecting my offer to dance when we had danced before, and then I was angry when you said we shouldn’t be friends because of my bad reputation. I lashed out because a man is not allowed to make himself vulnerable by showing emotions, and I have drunk a lot of whiskey tonight, so my words came out wrong. I do care about your happiness.” I confessed. “Maybe I should hold your flask if you drank too much whiskey,” Mabel said, holding her hand out. I gave her the flask and broke out in tears at the thought of losing Mabel forever because of my bad reputation, gambling, drinking, and kissing saloon girls. She took my handkerchief from my front pocket and dabbed my tears this time. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I was outraged that you thought we were not friends. You are not just a charity basket to me.” said Mabel. “If we are really friends, can I tell you a secret? You promise not to tell anyone.” I inquired with some relief. “I promise,” she replied. “I have a fancy for a young lady that I can never marry. It breaks my heart to see her dance with other fellers and reject me because I am too poor to give her a house. I can’t share this love because people will laugh at me. It hurts so much that I kiss other ladies and drink whiskey to heal my heart. I gambled, trying to earn more money for my poor family. I know it hurts Mama not to have more than two gowns to wear, and her children wear rags covered in patches. Maybe if I had money, my love would at least look at me with a smile instead of a spurn.” I confessed. “You poor boy. I’m sorry I rejected your offer to dance.” Mabel assured me. We embraced each other. “Who is this young lady you fancy?” Mabel asked. “Nobody you know,” I replied in shock that she failed to recognize I was talking about her. We walked back to the barn and clapped to the music of the dance, watching all the couples complete the steps of the Scottish Jig. I felt the power of Papa’s moonshine and remained seated on the straw sheaves piled along the wall. Mr. Phillips asked Mabel to dance the next quadrille, and I watched her smile from a distance. Later, Mrs. Thompson returned the flask to Mama during a social call. I was out in the fields with Papa, planting the alfalfa for the cattle to eat during the winter months. Mama scolded me for drinking away Papa’s income when I returned to the house for supper. With disgust from Mama, Papa practiced playing poque games in the parlor to help me win better. The trick is not what cards you have, but reading other people, guessing if they have a good hand, or bluffing. Papa occasionally will play games in the card room at the inn to gain some experience with gambling. Often, he came home with a few more dollars to give to Mama. We celebrated Thanksgiving with a goose I had shot. For breakfast, Mama made white gravy on buttermilk biscuits. I attended Mabel’s ballet in Hillsborough with her parents. Mrs. Thompson explained the storyline so I could follow it. It followed the relationship of a Roman General and a Vestal Priestess, which was a forbidden love. We spent the night there with Mr. Thompson’s nephew, who owns a dry goods shop. I slept in the downstairs guest room, and they slept in the upstairs guest room. They had hot cakes, toast, blackberry jam, and pork sausages for breakfast. Just before Christmas, my mama gave birth to my youngest brother, Amos, and my papa said fifteen children were enough when they were about to become grandparents, and he began sleeping in the parlor. During a social call, Mabel giggled at the thought of a large man sleeping on our parlor sofa. She seemed dumbfounded that my sisters held employment once they married. I explained that my mama sold eggs, fabric, flaxseed oil, honey, and candles to the neighbors to earn income in addition to my papa’s farming income. Poor folks need to make income any way they can. During an assembly dance, I took a shine to Miss Anne Dowby with a happy smile. We danced the jig together and went outside into the night air to kiss under the stars. Mama grew angry upon seeing the grass stains on my clothing when I returned home, to warn me of misplacing my affection on the wrong young lady. Hussies are well known for carrying diseases and trapping men into marriage when they get into trouble. Sarah was lucky her suitor married her when she misbehaved. I had not heard that before. I thought she whispered that her employer got her pregnant and the mistress dismissed her. Her husband had been courting her by walking her home from church, and his parents took her in. I decided to see less of Rose. Soon after, a fight broke out between two planters’ sons, in which one demanded satisfaction before storming out of the assembly room. People gossiped about the cause of the argument, and the families relayed that one man had insulted the virtue of the other man’s sister, who was engaged to marry the following year. The duel was the talk of the county for months. The pair met at dawn two days later across the state line of Virginia, which regarded deadly duels as murder but did not outright outlaw them. Each took their shot along a farm creek, and the brother of the engaged maiden fell wounded in the shoulder, to survive after a fever. The sister’s betrothal was dissolved when her intended discovered his beloved was carrying another man’s child. Soon after, the sister left with an aunt to visit Raleigh and returned in the summer. It was whispered that she gave away her baby to a relative. No longer engaged and with everyone in the county knowing about the duel that nearly killed her brother, she took employment in Virginia as a governess to a planter’s family near Fredericksburg. Mrs. Thompson gave my mama all the family gossip during a social call. Mama warned me to be careful with whom I insult because she could not afford to lose me in a duel. Just because they are outlawed doesn’t mean they don’t continue in secret. I was a man now and could be challenged to a fight. I assured her that I would be careful around gentlemen and avoid arguments if I could. The newspapers printed a story about a duel in a nearby county in Virginia over a political argument. In that case, one of the men died after being shot in the chest. The shooter was charged with murder in a grand jury trial, and he claimed it was a hunting accident. No witnesses would testify to having seen the duel, and the shooter was released from the Virginia jail. Around this time, sorrow touched the Thompson family. Mabel’s older brother, Samuel, lost his new wife in childbirth and their stillborn daughter, a tragedy the doctor called eclampsia. Grief loosened his ties to the plantation, and he turned instead toward the riverboats, purchasing a partnership in a steamship with funds provided by his family. Within a year, he built a house in the coastal city of Grover’s Port and moved there permanently, returning home only at Christmas to share the family’s profits. He remarried and, in time, had his own children to care for. Her other older brother, John, graduated from the university and took a job as a law clerk in the Attorney General’s office in the state capital, living in a friend’s family home whose father was a state legislator. He planned to stay there until he passed the bar exam, earned his law license, and returned home. He came home for Christmas, and we saw him at church. The friend’s family visited Thompson Plantation last year during the summer after Samuel graduated from the university and quickly married his sweetheart. Their family of two sons and three daughters was interesting to meet. Mama paid a social call to the Thompsons’ Plum Manor. Mrs. Thompson welcomed our family into her parlor and introduced her guests from Raleigh. We played cards with the children. Samuel and John shared the books by Sir Walter Scott that they were reading. The children visiting spoke of a play they saw in Raleigh about Daphnis and Chloe. They were well educated in the classical literature of ancient Greece and Rome. The youngest daughter, Cossette, who had completed a year with her governess, read a storybook to me. She asked me to read to her next. I glazed through Grimm’s Fairy Tales, reading “The Sleeping Beauty” to little Cossette. Who knew I would meet her again as the bride of John Thompson? The elder Mrs. Thompson hosted a supper party and ball in their honor at Wiltshire Manor and introduced church members to their guests after the service. Papa and Mama were quite intrigued by the General Assemblyman’s politics. The Democratic-Republican Party had split after the last presidential election because of the loss of General Andrew Jackson to John Quincy Adams. General Andrew Jackson and his followers formed the Democratic Party, emphasizing local democracy, expansion of suffrage, opening Indian lands to white settlement, and opposition to high tariffs. President John Quincy Adams and his followers formed the National Republican Party, promoting national unity, high tariffs, and internal improvements such as a naval academy, a national university, and a national observatory. The General Assemblyman thought this year’s presidential election was going to be exciting. Naturally, he favored Jackson’s opposition to high tariffs that hurt the South. I attended the election festivities and won a shooting contest to bring home a new flintlock pistol. Everybody was drinking the liquor provided by the local candidates. Papa and I could not vote, but enjoyed the offered drinks. Women made election cakes and handed out pieces at taverns. Mama stayed home with the children and inquired about the results. The Smithfield mayor and town council were reelected. The votes were tallied, and totals were sent to the county seat to determine the state and federal representatives, and returned with the county results. The county representative in the General Assembly lost his seat to his opponent. The Federal Representative was reelected when the four counties' tallies were totaled. It would take some time to learn who won the Presidency when other states haven’t conducted their presidential elections yet. In Smithfield, General Jackson received the popular vote. Thanksgiving and Christmas soon arrived. Mama took me into the cellars to complete the inventory. She expressed the importance of knowing how much food you have before the first frost. We went to town to buy rice, raisins, spices, peach brandy, rum, two large loaves of sugar, and almonds for Christmas baking. She got out the bayberry candles she had made a couple of months ago to light one each Sunday of Advent and on Christmas Eve. We played Christmas carols at the inn and on town street corners to earn extra coins. Mama made wreaths for the doors and then sold several to neighbors. The younger Mrs. Thompson insisted on having one of Mama’s wreaths on her front door. We roasted chestnuts to eat with the Advent dinners. Mama made sugar plums, shortbread, gingerbread, fruit cake, and worked on the plum pudding, sitting in the summer kitchen. We all made a wish on Stir Up Sunday, the last Sunday before Advent. She had sugar plums, jumble cookies, and gingerbread men in the parlor. Mabel, home from school, held a tea party in the parlor and invited a couple of my younger sisters. They wore their Sunday gowns and came home with gingerbread men in a small basket. They played games such as Blind Man’s Bluff and sang carols. They said John Thompson had returned for the Christmas season and was quite handsome. After the Nativity Play, Mabel invited me to a dinner party she was hosting with dancing in the parlor. I arrived with my brother and two sisters, as the invitation had included, wearing our Sunday clothes. Mrs. Thompson played the parlor organ, and we sang carols. We played Blind Man’s Bluff, Yes and No, and drove our sleighs around the plantation. Next, we sat at the dining room table to eat five courses and drink hot chocolate. Finally, we ate fruitcake with apple cider in the parlor, sharing conversation before dancing in a Virginia Reel as Mrs. Thompson played the piano. We danced a mazurka, a quadrille, and finished with a jig. Mabel danced with me during the quadrille. I joked about how I should invite her to a picnic next summer. She replied that she would enjoy that. We were instructed to take gingerbread cookies off the tree in the parlor to take home in a small basket provided. As we left, Mabel thanked her guests for coming to her first dinner party. I grabbed her hand and kissed it above her knuckles as a gentleman does. I whispered that it was my first dinner party, too. Mabel grinned in return. Papa delivered a half-dozen fruit cakes to close friends and family as gifts. Both Mrs. Thompsons received a cake for their generosity. The pastor who visited during Mama’s fifteen pregnancies received a cake. Mama’s brother and sister, and finally Papa’s brother, received the other three fruit cakes. Both Mrs. Thompson and Mabel arrived for a social call to thank Mama for her fruit cakes. They gave Mama a mincemeat pie and a plum cake as gifts. Mabel enjoyed Mama’s sugar plums with her apple cider. Mama thanked Mabel for the gingerbread cookies she sent home with her guests, asserting the family enjoyed them. On Christmas Eve, we went to Papa’s parents’ house for dinner. We ice-skated along the creek and went on sleigh rides around the farm. We went to the church service and went home for supper. We played music and sang carols in the parlor. On Christmas Day, the family exchanged gifts. I made wooden toys for my younger brothers and sisters. I gave Mama wooden cooking utensils. I gave Papa a new wooden saddle frame with deer leather on top to ride our mules. Papa gave us fudge and then gave me a fur hat, being a grown man now. Mama gave me a waistcoat and cravat she made. We ate a fine breakfast of biscuits and gravy, sausages, and hoe cakes with butter and maple syrup. We hitched the sleighs up and went to church. After the church service, charity gifts to the poor white trash were given out, where we were given a smoked ham, a loaf of wheat bread, a ginger cake, okra, carrots, pickles, and a jug of apple cider. They also passed out clothing to the poor that the church members had made. I received a new tweed coat and gloves. Mama was excited to receive a silk bonnet with heron feathers attached. Papa received a pair of gloves and a pair of knitted stockings. My younger siblings received mufflers and mittens. We went to Mama’s parents’ house for dinner and then ate supper at home. Mama commented that she told the pastor I needed a new coat because I was growing taller and needed a longer coat. I gave my old coat to my younger brother, and Mama altered it to fit him better. Old mufflers were knitted together to make a blanket. As a grown man, I made social calls to maidens on New Year’s Day. Some men published in newspapers lists of the ladies they paid calls to. My favorite social call was visiting Mabel and hearing that Mama’s bonnet was made by the elder Mrs. Thompson from an old ball gown. She altered the gown for Mabel to wear, and scraps from shortening it went into making the bonnet for my mama. She said Mrs. Braintree made my coat and asked her brother John if I would like it. He was unsure, but thought maybe I would. I replied that I appreciated the coat, and Mama loved her bonnet. Mrs. Braintree lived next door and was very close to the elder Mrs. Thompson. I paid a social call to Mrs. Braintree’s granddaughter down the river and commented that I adored my new coat.