Tenting on the Plains; or, General Custer in Kansas and Texas

by Elizabeth Bacon Custer

CHAPTER VII.

LIFE IN A TEXAS TOWN.

One day we heard shout upon shout from many a soldier's throat in camp. The headquarters guard and officers' servants, even the officers themselves, joined in the hallooing, and we ran out to see what could be the matter. It was our lordly Byron. Stately and superb as he usually was, he had another side to his character, and now he was racing up from camp, a huge piece of meat in his jaws, which he had stolen from the camp-kettle where it was boiling for the soldiers' dinner. His retreat was accompanied with every sort of missile—sticks, boots and rocks—but this dog, that made himself into a "greased streak of lightning," as a colored woman described him, bounded on, untouched by the flying hail of the soldiers' wrath. The General did not dare to shout and dance in sight of the men, over what he thought so cunning in this hateful dog, as he was not protected by the friendly walls of our tent; but he chuckled, and his eyes danced, for the brute dropped the hot meat when he had looked about to discover how close his pursuers were, and then, seeing the enemy nearing him, picked it up and distanced them all. The General went back to his tent, and called Eliza, to torment her with an account of what "her favorite" had done all by himself. She spared no words to express her opinion of the hated hound, for Byron was no respecter of persons when the sly side of his character was uppermost. He stole his master's dinner just as readily as the neighbors'. Eliza said no one could tell how many times he had made off with a part of her dinner, just dished up to be served, and then gone off on a prowl, "after he'd gorged hissel," as she expressed it, "hidin' from the other dogs, and burying it in jest such a stingy way you might 'spect from such a worthless, plunderin' old villain."

The march to Austin was varied by fording. All the streams and rivers were crossed in that manner, except one, where we used the pontoon bridge. The Colorado we found too high to ford, and so made a détour of some miles. The citizens were not unfriendly, while there was a total cessation of work on the part of the negroes until our column went by. They sat on the fences like a row of black crows, and with their usual politeness made an attempt to answer questions the troops put to them, which were unanswerable, even in the ingenious brain of the propounder. "Well, uncle, how far is it ten miles down the road from here?" If their feelings were hurt by such irrepressible fun, they were soon healed by the lively trade they kept up in chickens, eggs and butter.

The citizens sometimes answered the General's salute, and his interested questions about the horse they rode, by joining us for a short distance on the march. The horseflesh of Texas was a delight to him; but I could not be so interested in the fine points as to forget the disfiguring brands that were often upon the foreshoulder, as well as the flank. They spoke volumes for the country where a man has to sear a thoroughbred with a hot iron, to ensure his keeping possession. Father Custer used to say, "What sort of country is this, anyhow, when a man, in order to keep his property, has got to print the whole constitution of the United States on his horse?" The whole get-up of the Texans was rather cumbersome, it seemed to me, though they rode perfectly. They frequently had a Mexican saddle, heavily ornamented with silver on the high pommel, and everywhere else that it could be added. Even the design of the stamped leather, for which Mexico is famous, was embroidered with silver bullion. The stirrup had handsome leather covers, while a fringe of thongs fell almost to the ground, to aid in pushing their way through the tall prairie grass. Sometimes the saddle-cloth, extending to the crupper, was of fur. The bridle and bit were rich with silver also. On the massive silver pommel hung an incongruous coil of horse-hair rope, disfiguring and ugly. There was an iron picket-pin attached to the lariat, which we soon learned was of inestimable value in the long rides that the Texans took. If a man made a halt, he encircled himself with this prickly lariat and lay down securely, knowing that no snake could cross that barrier. In a land of venomous serpents, it behooved a man to carry his own abatis everywhere. The saddle was also secured by a cinch or girth of cow's-hair, which hard riders found a great help in keeping the saddle firm. The Texan himself, though not often wearing the high-crowned, silver-embroidered Mexican sombrero, wore usually a wide-brimmed felt hat, on which the General afterward doted, as the felt was of superior quality. If the term "dude" had been invented then, it would often have applied to a Texan horseman. The hair was frequently long, and they wore no waistcoat, I concluded because they could better display the vast expanse of shirt-front. While the General and his casual companion in our march talked horse, too absorbed to notice anything else, I used to lose myself in the contemplation of the maze of tucks, puffs and embroidery of this cambric finery, ornamented with three old-fashioned bosom-pins. The wearer seemed to me to represent two epochs: the fine linen, side-saddle and blooded horse belonged to "befo' the war;" while the ragged elbows of the coat-sleeves, and the worn boots, were decidedly "since the war." If the shirt-front was intricate in its workmanship, the boots were ignored by the placid owner.

They usually had the Mexican serape strapped to the back of the saddle, or, if it was cold, as it was in our late November march, they put their head through the opening in the middle, so woven for that purpose, and flung the end across their breast and over one shoulder in a picturesque manner. The bright hues of the blanket, dyed by the Indians from the juice of the prickly pear, its soft, flexible folds having been woven in a hand-loom, made a graceful and attractive bit of color, which was not at all out of place in that country. These blankets were valuable possessions. They were so pliable and perfectly water-proof, that they protected one from every storm. We had a pair, which we used through every subsequent campaign, and when the cold in Kansas and Dakota became almost unbearable, sometimes, after the long trial of a journey in the wagon, my husband used to say, "We will resort to extreme measures, Libbie, and wrap you in the Mexican blankets." They were the warmest of all our wraps. Nothing seemed to fade them, and even when burnt with Tom's cigarette ashes, or stuck through with the General's spurs, they did not ravel, as do other fabrics. They have hung as portières in my little home, and the design and coloring are so like the Persian rug on the floor, that it seems to be an argument to prove that Mr. Ignatius Donnelly, in his theory of Atlantis, is right, and that we once had a land highway between the East and Mexico, and that the reason the Aztec now uses the designs on his pottery and in his weaving is, that his ancestors brought over the first sketches on papyrus.[E]

A Texan travels for comfort and safety rather than for style. If a norther overtakes him, he dismounts and drives the picket-pin into the ground, thus tethering his horse, which turns his back, the better to withstand the oncoming wind. The master throws himself, face down, in the long grass, buried in his blanket, and thus awaits the termination of the fury with which the storm sweeps a Texas prairie.

Sometimes one of the planters, after riding a distance with us, talking the county over, and taking in every point of our horses as he rode, made his adieus and said he was now at his own place, where he turned in. The General followed his fine thoroughbred with longing eyes, and was more than astonished to find in what stables they kept these valuable and delicate animals. No matter if the house was habitable, the stable was usually in a state of careless dilapidation. Doors swung on one hinge, and clapboards were torn off here and there, while the warped roof was far from weather-proof. Even though Texas is in the "Sunny South," the first sharp norther awakens one to the knowledge that it is not always summer. Sometimes these storms are quickly over, but frequently they last three days. This carelessness about stabling stock was not owing to the depredations of an invading army. We were the first "Yankees" they had seen. It was the general shiftlessness that creeps into one's veins. We were not long there ourselves before climatic influence had its effect on even the most active among us.

Before we reached Austin, several citizens sent out invitations for us to come to their houses; but I knew the General would not accept, and, cold as the nights were, I felt unwilling to lose a day of camp life. We pitched our tents on rolling ground in the vicinity of Austin, where we overlooked a pretty town of stuccoed houses that appeared summery in the midst of the live-oak's perennial green. The State House, Land Office, and governor's mansion looked regal to us so long bivouacking in the forest and on uncultivated prairies. The governor offered for our headquarters the Blind Asylum, which had been closed during the war. This possessed one advantage that we were glad to improve: there was room enough for all the staff, and a long saloon parlor and dining-room for our hops during the winter. By this time two pretty, agreeable women, wives of staff-officers, were added to our circle. Still, I went into the building with regret. The wagon in which the wind had rocked me to sleep so often, and which had proved such a stronghold against the crawling foes of the country, was consigned to the stable with a sigh. Camp life had more pleasures than hardships.

There were three windows in our room, which we opened at night; but, notwithstanding the air that circulated, the feeling, after having been so long out of doors, was suffocating. The ceiling seemed descending to smother us. There was one joy—reveillé could ring out on the dawning day and there was no longer imperative necessity to spring from a warm bed and make ablutions in ice-water. There is a good deal of that sort of mental snapping of the fingers on the part of campaigners when they are again stationary and need not prepare for a march. Civilization and a looking-glass must now be assumed, as it would no longer do to rough it and ignore appearances, after we had moved into a house, and were to live like "folks." Besides, we soon began to be invited by the townspeople to visit them. Refined, agreeable and well-dressed women came to see us, and, womanlike, we ran our eyes over their dresses. They were embroidered and trimmed richly with lace—"befo' the war" finery or from the cargo of a blockade runner; but it was all strange enough in such an isolated State. Almost everything was then brought from the terminus of the Brenham Railroad to Austin, 150 miles, by ox-team. We had been anxiously expected for some time, and there was no manner of doubt that the arrival of the Division was a great relief to the reputable of both sides. They said so frankly—the returned Confederate officers and the "stay-at-home rangers," as well as the newly appointed Union governor.

Texas was then a "go-as-you-please" State, and the lawlessness was terrible. The returned Confederate soldiers were poor, and did not know how to set themselves to work, and in many instances preferred the life of a freebooter. It was so easy, if a crime was committed, to slip into Mexico, for though it was inaccessible except by stage or on horseback, a Texan would not mind a forced march over the country to the Rio Grande. There were then but one or two short railroads in operation. The one from Galveston to Brenham was the principal one, while telegraph lines were not in use. The stage to Brenham was our one means of communication with the outside world.

It was hard for the citizens who had remained at home to realize that war was over, and some were unwilling to believe there ever had been an emancipation proclamation. In the northern part of the State they were still buying and selling slaves. The lives of the newly appointed United States officers were threatened daily, and it was an uneasy head that wore the gubernatorial crown. I thought them braver men than many who had faced the enemy in battle. The unseen, lurking foe that hides under cover of darkness was their terror. They held themselves valiantly; but one wife and daughter were on my mind night after night, as from dark till dawn they slept uneasily, and started from their rooms out into the halls at every strange sound. The General and I thought the courageous daughter had enough brave, devoted blood in her veins to distill a portion into the heart of many a soldier who led a forlorn hope. They told us that in the early part of the war the girl had known of a Union flag in the State House, held in derision and scornfully treated by the extremists. She and her younger brother climbed upon the roof of a wing of the building, after dark, entered a window of the Capitol, found the flag, concealed it in the girl's clothing, and made their perilous descent safely. The father of such a daughter might well prize her watchfulness of his safety, as she vigilantly kept it up during our stay, and was equal to a squadron of soldiers. She won our admiration; and our bachelor officers paid the tribute that brave men always pay to courageous, unselfish women, for she danced, rode and walked with them, and when she was not so engaged, their orderlies held their horses before the official door, while they improved every hour allowed them within the hospitable portal.

It was a great relief to find a Southern State that was not devastated by the war. The homes destroyed in Virginia could not fail to move a woman's heart, as it was women and children that suffered from such destruction. In Texas nothing seemed to have been altered. I suppose some profited, for blockade-running could be carried on from the ports of that great State, and there was always Mexico from which to draw supplies.

In our daily rides we found the country about Austin delightful. The roads were smooth and the surface rolling. Indeed, there was one high hill, called Mount Brunnel, where we had picnics and enjoyed the fine view, far and near, taking one of the bands of the regular regiments from the North that joined us soon after our arrival. Mount Brunnel was so steep we had to dismount and climb a part of the distance. The band played the "Anvil Chorus," and the sound descended through the valley grandly. The river, filled with sand-bars and ugly on close examination, looked like a silver ribbon. At that height, the ripened cotton, at certain seasons of the year, looked like fields of foam. The thermometer was over eighty before we left the lowlands; but at the altitude to which we climbed the air was cool. We even went once to the State Insane Asylum, taking the band, when the attendants asked if dance music might be played, and we watched with wonder the quadrille of an insane eight.

The favorite ride for my husband was across the Colorado to the Deaf and Dumb Asylum. There seemed to be a fascination for him in the children, who were equally charmed with the young soldier that silently watched their pretty, pathetic exhibitions of intelligent speech by gesture. My husband riveted his gaze on their speaking eyes, and as their instructor spelt the passions of love, hatred, remorse and reverence on his fingers, one little girl represented them by singularly graceful gestures, charming him, and filling his eyes with tears, which he did not seek to hide. The pupils were from ten to sixteen years of age. Their supple wrists were a delight to us, and the tiny hands of a child of the matron, whom the General held, talked in a cunning way to its playmates, who, it knew, could not comprehend its speech. It was well that the Professor was hospitality itself, and did not mind a cavalcade dashing up the road to his house. My husband, when he did not openly suggest going, used some subterfuge as trivial as going for water-cress, that grew in a pond near the Asylum. The children knew him, and welcomed him with lustrous, eloquent eyes, and went untiringly through their little exhibitions, learning to bring him their compositions, examples and maps, for his commendation. How little we thought then that the lessons he was taking, in order to talk with the children he learned to love, would soon come into use while sitting round a camp-fire and making himself understood by Indians. Of course, their sign-language is wholly their own, but it is the same method of using the simplest signs as expressive of thought. It was a long, pleasant ride; its only drawback to me being the fording of the river, which had quicksands and a rapid current. The Colorado was low, but the river-bed was wide and filled with sand-bars. The mad torrent that the citizens told us of in freshets, we did not see. If I followed my husband, as Custis Lee had learned to do, I found myself guided safely, but it sometimes happened that our party entered the river, laughing and talking so earnestly, noisily and excitedly that we forgot caution. One lesson was enough; the sensation of the sinking of the horse's hindlegs in quicksands is not to be forgotten. The loud cry of the General to "saw on the bit" or whip my horse, excited, frightened directions from the staff to turn to the right or the left, Custis Lee trembling and snorting with fear, but responding to a sharp cut of my whip (for I rarely struck him), and we plunged on to a firmer soil, wiser for all the future on account of that moment of serious peril.

We seldom rode through the town, as my husband disliked the publicity that a group of cavalrymen must necessarily cause in a city street. If we were compelled to, the staff and Tom pointed out one after another of the loungers about the stores, or the horseman, who had killed his man. It seemed to be thought the necessary thing, to establish the Texan's idea of courage, to have either fought in duels, or, by waylaying the enemy, to have killed from one to five men. The Southern climate seems to keep alive a feud that our cold Northern winters freeze out. Bad blood was never kept in abeyance; they had out their bursts of temper when the attack of rage came on. Each man, even the boys of twelve, went armed. I used to wonder at the humped-up coats, until a norther, before which we were one day scudding for safety, lifted the coats of men making a similar dash, and the pistol was revealed.

It was the favorite pastime of our men (having concocted the scheme with the General) to ride near some of the outskirts, and, when we reached some lone tree, tell me that from that limb a murdered man had lately swung. This grim joke was often practiced on me, in order that the shuddering horror and the start Custis Lee and I made, to skim over the country away from such a hated spot, might be enjoyed. I came to think the Texas trees bore that human fruit a little too often for truth; but some of the citizens gloated over these scenes of horror, and added a lamp-post in town to the list of localities from which, in future, I must turn away my head.

The negroes in Texas and Louisiana were the worst in all the South. The border States had commonly sold their most insubordinate slaves into these two distant States.[F] Fortunately, our now well-disciplined Division and the regular cavalry kept everything in a better condition; but there were constantly individual cases of outrageous conduct, and often of crime, among whites and blacks, high and low. Texas had so long been looked upon as a sort of "city of refuge" by outlaws, that those whom the other States refused to harbor came to that locality. A country reached only by sea from the south or by a wagon-train from the north, and through which no telegraph lines ran until after we came, would certainly offer an admirable hiding-place for those who leave their country for their country's good. I have read somewhere that Texas derived its name from a group of rascals, who, sitting around a fire on their arrival on the soil that was to protect them, composed this couplet:

"If every other land forsakes us,
This is the land that freely takes us (Texas)."

As story after story reached us, I began to think the State was well named. There were a great many excellent, law-abiding citizens, but not enough to leaven the lump at that chaotic period. Even the women learned to defend themselves, as the war had deprived them of their natural protectors, who had gone either in the Northern or Southern army—for Texas had a cavalry regiment of refugees in our service. One woman, while we were there, found a teamster getting into her window, and shot him fatally. Firearms were so constantly about—for the men did not dress without a pistol in their belts—that women grew accustomed to the sight of weapons. There was a woman of whom I constantly heard, rich and refined, but living out of town on a plantation that seemed to be fit only for negroes. She rode fearlessly, and diverted her monotonous life by hunting. The planters frequently met her with game slung upon her saddle, and once she lassoed and brought in a wolf alone. Finally, this woman came to see me, but curiosity made me hardly civil for a few moments, as I was trying to reconcile myself to the knowledge that the quiet, graceful person before me, with rich dress, jewels and a French hat, could take her gun and dogs, mount a fiery horse, and go hunting alone. We found, on returning the visit, that, though they were rich, owning blooded horses, a plantation and a mill, their domicile was anything but what we at the North would call comfortable. It was a long, one-storied, log building, consisting of a parlor, dining-room, bedroom and two small "no-'count" rooms, as the servants said, all opening into one another and upon the porch. The first surprise on entering was, that the roof did not fit down snugly on the side wall. A strip of the blue sky was visible on three sides, while the partition of the dining-room only came up part way. There seemed to be no sort of provision for "Caudle lectures." The walls were roughly plastered, but this space just under the roof was for ventilation, and I fancied they would get enough of it during a norther.

I am reminded of a story that one of the witty Southern women told me, after repeating some very good comic verses, in which they excel. She said the house I described was not uncommon in Texas, and that once she was traveling over a portion of the State, on a journey of great suffering, as she was accompanying her husband's remains to a family burial-ground. They assisted her from her carriage into one of the rooms of a long log house, used as a wayside inn, and the landlady kindly helped her into bed, as she was prostrated with suffering and fatigue. After she left her, the landlady seemed to forget that the partition did not extend to the rafters, and began questioning her servant as to what was the matter, etc. Hearing that the lady had lost her husband, the old dame exclaimed, sympathetically, "Poor thing! Poor thing! I know how it is; I've lost three of em."

The General and his staff got a good deal of sport out of the manner in which they exaggerated the tales of bloodshed to me, and aroused the anger, grief and horror that I could not suppress. I must defend myself from the supposition that I may have been chronicling their absurd and highly colored tales. All that I have written I have either seen or have reliable authority for. Their astounding stories, composed among themselves, began with a concocted plan by which one casually started a story, the others met it with surprise, and with an "Is it possible?" and the next led up to some improbable narrative of the General's—I growing more and more shivery as the wicked tormentors advanced. Always rather gullible, I suppose, I must confess the torn and distracted state of society in Texas made everything they said seem probable. I don't know how long I kept up a fashion of starting and shuddering over the frequent crack of a rifle or pistol, as we rode through the woods about the town. My husband and his attendant scamps did all they could to confirm my belief that the woods were full of assassins, and I rode on after these sharp reports, expecting to come upon the lifeless remains of a murdered man. They all said, with well-assumed feeling, that Texas was an awful country in which to live, where a man's life was not safe an hour, and excitedly exclaimed at each shot, "There goes some other poor fellow!" I have reason to believe it was a serious disappointment to the whole confederation of jokers, to have me actually see a Mexican driver (a greaser) crack his whip over the heads of his oxen, as they crawled along in front of us one day when we were riding. There is no sound like the snap of the lash of a "bull-whacker," as they are called, and perhaps brighter women than I am might have been taken in by it, and thought it a pistol-shot. This ended my taking it as the signal of a death.

The lawlessness of the State was much diminished by the troops scattered through the country. General Custer was much occupied in answering communications that came from distant parts of Texas, describing the demoralized state of the country, and asking for troops. These appeals were from all sides. It was felt more and more that the presence of the troops was absolutely necessary, and it was certainly agreeable to us that we were not looked upon as invaders. The General then had thirteen regiments of infantry and as many of cavalry, scattered in every part of the State comprised in his district. The regular troops arriving brought their wives and daughters, and it was a great addition, as we had constant entertainments, in which the civilians, so long cut off from all gayety, were glad to participate. The staff assisted me greatly in my preparations. We dressed the long parlors in evergreens, made canopies of flags, arranged wax-lights in impromptu wooden sconces, and with the waxed floor it was tempting enough to those who cared for dancing. The soldiers soon organized a string band, and a sergeant called off the quadrilles. Sometimes my husband planned and arranged the suppers alone, but usually the staff divided the duty of preparing the refreshments. Occasionally we attempted a dinner, and, as we wanted to invite our own ladies as well as some from the regular regiments, the table was a subject of study; for when twenty came, the dishes gave out. The staff dined early, so that we could have theirs, and the Southern woman who occupied two rooms in the building lent everything she had. Uncle Charley, our cook, who now had found a colored church in which to preach on Sunday, did up all his religion on that day, and swore all the week, but the cellar-kitchen was distant, and, besides, my husband used to argue that it was just as well to endure placidly the evils right about us, but not to seek for more. The swearing did not interfere with the cooking, and Charley thought it necessary to thus clear the kitchen, as our yard at that time was black with the colored race. Each officer's servant had his circle of friends, and they hovered round us like a dark cloud. The dishes that Uncle Charley sent up were excellent. The Texas beef and poultry were of superior quality, and we even had a respite from condensed milk, as a citizen had lent us a cow.

At one of these dinners Eliza had enlisted a colored boy to help her wait on the table. I had tried to borrow enough dishes, and thought the table was provided. But the glory of the occasion departed when, after soup, roast game, etc., all served with the great luxury, at that place, of separate plates, Uncle Charley bethought himself that he would add, as a surprise, a dessert. It is almost unnecessary to say that a dessert at that time was an event. Uncle Charley said his "best holt" was on meats, and his attempts at pastry would not only have ruined the remnant of his temper, but, I am afraid, if often indulged in, would have effectually finished our digestion. For this I had not counted, and, to my dismay, after the pudding had been deposited with great salaam and ceremony before the General, the colored boy rushed around and gathered everybody's coffee-saucer. Until he returned them washed, and placed them at the head of the table, I did not imagine what he was doing; I simply waited, in that uncertain frame of mind that a hostess well knows. My husband looked at the array of cups down the long table, standing bereft of their partners, laid his head back and shouted. Then everybody else laughed, and, very red and very mortified, I concluded to admit that I had not arranged for this last course, and that on that table were the united contents of all our mess-chests, and there were no saucers or dessert-plates nearer than town. We were aware that our stay in the South was limited, and made no effort to keep enough crockery for dinners of twenty.

After many enjoyable parties in our parlor, we received a pathetic and carefully worded hint from Eliza, who was now a great belle, that she would like to return some of the hospitality shown her by the colored people of the town, and my husband was only too glad to prove to Eliza how we valued her faithful, self-denying life in our service. We composed an invitation, in which Miss Eliza Brown presented her compliments to Mr. Washington or Mr. Jefferson, as the case might be, and would be happy to see him on such an evening, with the word "dancing" in the left-hand corner. A gathering of the darkeys seemed equally jubilant, whether it was a funeral, a camp-meeting or a dance; but it seemed they made a difference in dress for these occasions, if not in manners. So it was best, Eliza thought, to add "dancing," though it was only at first a mirthful suggestion of the General's fertile brain. He gave the copying to the office clerk, who, being a professional penman, put as many tails to his capitals and flourishes to his words as he did for the white folks, Eliza's critical eye watching for any less elaborate embellishment.

The lower part of the house was given over to the negroes, who polished the floor, trimmed the windows, columns and chimney with garlands of live-oak, and lavished candles on the scene, while at the supper they had a heterogeneous jumble of just what they asked for, including coon, the dish garnished with watercress and bits of boiled beet. I think we were not asked; but as the fiddle started the jigs, the General's feet began to keep time, and he executed some pas seul around our room, and then, extracting, as usual, a promise from me not to laugh, he dragged me down the steps, and we hid where we saw it all. The quadrille ended, the order of ceremonies seemed to consist in the company going down to one end of the room in response to an order from Uncle Charley to "cl'ar the flo'." Then the old man of sixty, a grandfather, now dressed in white tie, vest and gloves, with shining black clothes, took the floor. He knew himself to be the cynosure of all eyes, and bore himself accordingly. He had previously said to me, "To-night, I expects, Miss Libbie, to put down some steps those colored folks has never seen befo'." And surely he did. He ambled out, as lithe as a youngster, cut some pigeon-wings, and then skipped and flung himself about with the agility of a boy, stopping not only for breath, but to watch the expressions, envious and admiring, of the spectators at the end of the room. When his last breath was exhausted, Aunt Ann, our old laundress, came tripping down the polished floor, and executed a shuffle, most decorous at first, and then, reviving her youth, she struck into a hoydenish jig, her son encouraging her by patting time. More quadrilles, then another clearing of the floor, and a young yellow woman pirouetted down the room, in bright green tarlatan petticoats, very short and airy. She executed a hornpipe and a reel, and, like Uncle Charley, improvised some steps for the occasion. This black sylph was surrounded with a cloud of diaphanous drapery; she wreathed her arms about her head, kept on the smirk of the ballet-girl, and coquetted and skipped about, with manners that brought down the house. The fattest darkey of all waddled down next and did a breakdown, at which all the assembly patted juba, and with their woolly heads kept time to the violin. My husband never moved from his hiding-place, but chuckled and shook over the sight, novel to us, till Eliza found us out and forgave the "peeking."

The clothes worn looked as if the property-room of a third-rate theatre had been rifled—faded finery, fag ends of old lace, tumbled flowers that had done duty at many a "white folks'" ball, on the pretty costume of the missus, old feathers set up in the wool, where what was left of the plume bobbed and quavered, as the head of the owner moved to the time of the music, or nodded and swayed back and forth while conversation was kept up. The braiding, oiling and smoothing had gone on for days previous, to straighten the wool and make it lie flat; but the activity in the pursuit of pleasure soon set the little kinks free, and each hair stood on tiptoe, joining in a jig of its own. The powder begged from the toilet-table of the missus was soon swept away in the general shine; but the belles cared little for having suspended temporarily the breath of their rivals by the gorgeousness of their toilettes; they forgot appearances and yielded to that absorption of excitement in which the colored soul is spellbound.

Eliza moved about, "queening it," as she knew how to do, and it was a proud hour of triumph to her, as she cast a complacent side glance at the tail of her gown, which she had wheedled out of me by cunning arguments, among which the most powerful was that "'twas getting so mussed, and 'twasn't no sort of a dress for a Ginnel's wife, no how." The General lost nothing, for he sat in our hidden corner, shaking and throwing his head back in glee, but keeping a close and warning hold on my arm, as I was not so successful in smothering a titter as he was, having no mustache to deaden the sound. After Eliza discovered us, she let no one know of our perfidy, and the company, believing they were alone, abandoned themselves to complete enjoyment, as the fiddle played havoc with the heels of the entire assembly.