THE ARRIVAL AND WELCOME AT RIVERLAWN
It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when the road-wagon drew up in front of the mansion at Riverlawn. Less than a week before the Northern family had left the deep snows and the icy cold of New Hampshire, and the air of the Southern clime was comparatively mild and soft. The magnolias were as green as in summer; certain flowers had pushed their way out of the ground, and blossomed in the garden.
The young people in the wagon had been delighted with the ride, the air was so mild, and everything was so new and strange. They had struck the river road leading from the estate to the village, and the rest of the way was along Bar Creek to the bridge which crossed it to the mansion. They had passed Pink, the old negro who came with the baggage, at Belgrade, where he had stopped to water his two horses. Levi Bedford had talked all the way, pointing out every object of interest to the new-comers, telling stories, repeating all the old jokes of the locality, which were quite new to his audience.
As the manager wheeled his horses from the creek road upon the bridge, he cracked his whip, which seemed to be the signal for the four spirited horses to dance and prance, in order to make a proper display as they reached the end of their journey. Gathered in the walks in front of the house were all the servants of the mansion, and all the field-hands belonging to the place, to welcome the family.
There were just fifty-one of them, Levi said, and they all broke out in a yell, which was intended for a cheer, as the magnificent animals danced up to the front door. It was a cordial welcome, and the "people" put their whole souls into it. Noah Lyon took off his Derby hat and waved it to the crowd; Deck and Artie followed his example, all of them bowing; while Mrs. Lyon and the girls flaunted their handkerchiefs vigorously to the assembled population of the plantation.
Most of them were somewhat shy at first, though they intended to give a proper welcome to the family of the new proprietor, and they were rather restrained in their demonstration; but as soon as the party waved their hats and handkerchiefs, with pleasant smiles on their faces, all of them shouted, "Glad to see you!" their enthusiasm being limited only by the vigor of their voices and the strength of their lungs.
The Lyons were intensely amused at the earnestness of the demonstration, and they laughed heartily. They retained their seats in the wagon after it stopped, more interested in the gathering around them than in anything else for the time. The crowd closed up around the vehicle in order to obtain a nearer view of their new masters and mistresses. They had known and loved as a patriarch the colonel, for he had always been kind and indulgent to them. Unfortunately they also knew Titus Lyon, by reputation if not personally, and for a month they had been wondering whether the new proprietor was like the colonel or his Kentucky brother.
The "people" were of all ages, from the bald-headed old negro with a flaxen fringe around his rear head on a level with his ears, down to the infant in arms, whose toothless grin contrasted with the ivory display of its mother. They were of all the hues of the colored race, from the ebony face whereon charcoal could make no mark to the light saffron tint of the octoroon.
There was a plentiful sprinkling of "mammies" and "uncles" among them, for all the older ones are called by these names. But the great body of them were young or middle-aged men and women, able-bodied and fit for regular work. Noah Lyon and his wife were particularly struck with the appearance of two girls sixteen to eighteen years old, who were nearly as white as their own children. They were neatly and modestly dressed, and both of them had very pretty faces. They were employed in the house as waiters at the table, and in other general work.
"Glad to see you, mars'r!" shouted a score of the tribe in unison. "Glad to see you, missus!" "Gib you welcome to Barcreek, mars'r and missus!" "Glad to see de young mars'rs and missusses!"
Levi, with a very broad and cheerful smile upon his round face, descended from the wagon with the reins in his hand, which he handed to a mulatto whom he called Frank, who had been the colonel's coachman. He proceeded to assist Mrs. Lyon to alight, and her husband followed her without any of the assistance tendered to him, for he was only forty years old, and almost as nimble as he had ever been. The manager handed the girls to the ground as politely as though he had served his time as a dancing-master, and the young ladies smiled upon him as sweetly as though he had been a younger beau.
"This is Diana, Mrs. Lyon, the cook and housekeeper," said Levi, taking a yellow woman of fifty by the arm, and presenting her to the new lady of the house.
"Diana, missus, and not Dinah," added the housekeeper, as the lady took her hand.
"I will always call you Diana, and never Dinah," replied Mrs. Lyon. "I have no doubt we shall be good friends, though I am not used to your ways in Kentucky."
"This girl is Sylvie," said Diana, drawing the elder of the two octoroons into the presence of the lady; and her color was light enough to make her blushes transparent. "This is Julie," she added, bringing the other of the pretty pair to the front. "Both of them wait on the table, and 'tend on missus. Both of them come from New Orleans when they were little girls, and both of them speak French like a pair of mocking-birds."
"I am very happy to see you, girls, and I think we shall get along very well together, for I have never been used to having any one to wait on me," said the lady, as she took each of them by the hand; and they were so pretty that she was disposed to kiss them.
The rest of the family were presented in like manner to the house servants, and Levi introduced them to the rest of the people in a mass. The Lyons all felt that they had suddenly become lions, at least so far as Riverlawn was concerned. Noah had been a prosperous farmer in New Hampshire, engaged in some outside operation in which he had been successful; but even in haying-time he had never had more than three hired men. This avalanche of half a hundred servants suddenly attached to him was a new and novel experience; and the situation was just as strange to his wife and the young people.
Aunty Diana conducted the family into the house with many bows and flourishes, followed by the pretty octoroons, and ushered them into the drawing-room, which had seldom been used when the colonel was alive; for he was as simple in his manners as Noah, though he felt obliged to keep up the style of the mansion.
"Help you take your things off, missus?" said Diana to Mrs. Lyon, while Sylvie and Julie tendered their services to Dorcas and Hope.
"We should like to go to our rooms, Diana," replied the lady. "I suppose they are all ready for us."
"All ready, missus."
"Of course you can take your choice of the rooms, Mrs. Lyon," interposed Levi, who had come into the house as soon as he had sent the people to their cottages. "There are eight rooms on the second floor, besides two company chambers; and I suppose Diana has already picked out one for the owner and his wife."
"You can take just what room you like, missus, but I picked out the colonel's chamber for mars'r and missus, 'cause it is the biggest, has a dressing-room and four great closets. I think that one suit missus best," added Diana.
"We will all go up-stairs and look at the rooms," replied Mrs. Lyon.
She concluded to take the colonel's room, to which Noah assented; and it was a palatial apartment to both of them. The girls were next provided with rooms, and the two octoroons were unremitting in their attentions to them. Though they knew that these girls were slaves, they treated them like sisters, and before the day was over they were fast friends; for both of them were utterly devoid of any Southern prejudices against those who were so nearly of their own color. They were disposed to treat all the servants kindly, but they had not the same feeling towards those of ebony hue.
The same sentiment prevailed through the family; and as a rule it pervaded most of the enlightened families of the South. The girls as well as the mother—and Dorcas and Artie looked upon and called Mrs. Lyon by this endearing name—had been accustomed to wait upon themselves, and they found it rather difficult to economize the willing hands of Sylvie and Julie. But when Pink arrived with the trunks and other baggage, the field-hands "toted" them to the proper chambers, and the aid of the servants was very welcome, for both of them were tired after the long journey they had made.
As the great clock in the spacious hall below struck six, the family were summoned to supper. Levi acted as master of ceremonies, for Diana was busy in the kitchen, with her two assistants; but he seemed to have some doubts about seating himself at his employer's table, though he had always had a place there in the colonel's time.
"Sit here, if you please, Levi, and always consider yourself as one of the family," said Noah, after he had asked Deck to take the second seat on the right, giving the manager the first, which is the seat of honor; and the question of Levi's position at Riverlawn was settled once for all.
"Thank you, Major Lyon," replied he, as he took the place assigned to him. "I always sat at the table with Colonel Lyon, even when he had guests; but it isn't always the rule with planters to have the overseer at his table, and I am much obliged to you for your consideration."
"When I had two or three hired men on my farm, they always came to the table with me, and would have thought they were abused if they had been placed at a separate board," laughed the embryo planter. "But they were the 'mud-sills' of the North, you know."
"I was raised in Tennessee, Major, and was tolerably well educated. I was in business for myself in Shelbyville, the capital of our county, which was named for one of my ancestors. But I did not succeed, for the place was not big enough. I bought some nice horses of Colonel Lyon, and for some reason he took a fancy to me."
"I don't think that was very strange," added Noah.
"When I failed, he wanted me to come and manage this place for him; and I have been here ever since. He paid me well, and I have always done the best I could for him. He was a good man; and it looks to me just as though his successor was as good a man as he was."
"Thank you, Levi; I believe we shall be friends."
"Betwixt you and me, Major," continued the manager in a low tone, "when the colonel's health began to be rather shaky, though I had no idea he was so near his end, I had a mortal dread that a certain other man would come into possession of this place. Excuse me for saying that, but I couldn't help it. Since I met you this noon, Major, I have been lifted up to the seventh heaven."
Noah did not deem it wise to make any reply to this remark then; but he intended to inquire more particularly in regard to his Kentucky brother when he had an opportunity; and it appeared that the manager had some very pronounced opinions in regard to Titus. He changed the subject, and continued to eat his supper.
The meal was elaborate enough for a family feast. After the fried ham and bacon, the fried chicken, with baked potatoes and the nicest white cornbread the family had ever eaten, came hot biscuits, waffles, and griddle-cakes, and cake of several kinds, which were fully approved by Mrs. Lyon. Diana came in before the party rose from the table, and the praises bestowed upon her handiwork in the kitchen would have made her blush if she had been as light-colored as the two girls that waited upon the table.
When Noah Lyon went to his room after supper, and was alone there, he took from his pocket the letter from his deceased brother which Colonel Cosgrove had given him. It was with no little emotion that he broke the cumbrous seals. It looked very much like a mystery to him, for the estate had been duly divided in the will.
It was a very kindly and brotherly letter for the first page. Then the colonel stated that Noah had by the time he received the letter discovered that the value of the fifty-one negroes on the estate had not been included in his valuation of the property. They were worth at least twenty-five thousand dollars. They had been given to him with the plantation, but he enjoined it upon him on no account to sell one of them.
In the letter he found another as carefully sealed as the one that enclosed it, directed to his successor, with the direction: "Not to be opened till five years from the date of my death. Duncan Lyon."
The letter evidently related to the slaves on the plantation; but the mystery in regard to them was still unsolved.