The master, mistress, family and visitors all stood in awe of “Aunt Fanny,” and yet could not do without her, for she made such unapproachable light bread, and conducted the affairs of the place with such distinguished ability.
Her own house was in the yard, and had been built especially for her convenience. Her furniture was polished mahogany, and she kept most delicious preserves, pickles and sweet meats of her own manufacture with which to regale her friends and favorites. As we came under that head, we were often treated to these when we went in to see her after her day’s work was over, or on Sundays.
Although she “raved and stormed” considerably—which she told us she “was obliged to do, honey, to keep things straight”—she had the tenderest regard for her master and mistress, and often said: “If it warnt for me, they’d have nuthin’ in the world, and things here would go to destruction.”
So Aunt Fanny “kept up this family,” as she said, for many years, and many amusing incidents might be related of her.
On one occasion, her master after a long and excited political contest was elected to the Legislature. Before all the precincts had been heard from—believing himself defeated—he retired to rest, and being naturally feeble, was quite worn out. But at midnight a great cry arose at his gate, where a multitude assembled, screaming and hurrahing. At first he was uncertain whether they were friends to congratulate him on his victory, or the opposite party to hang him—as they had threatened—for voting an appropriation to the Danville railroad. It soon appeared they had come to congratulate him, when great excitement prevailed, loud cheers and cries for a speech. The doors were opened and the crowed rushed in. The hero soon appeared and delivered one of his graceful and satisfactory speeches.
Still the crowd remained cheering and “storming” about the house, until Aunt Fanny, who had made her appearance in full dress, considering the excitement had been kept up long enough, and that the master’s health was too delicate for any further demonstration, determined to disperse them. Rising to her full height, waving her hand and speaking majestically she said: “Gentlemen! Mars Charles is a feeble pusson, and it is time for him to take his res’. He’s been kep’ ’wake long enough now, and it’s time for me to close up dese doors!”
With this the crowd dispersed and “Aunt Fanny” remained mistress of the situation, declaring that, “ef she hadn’t come forward and ’spersed dat crowd, Mars Charles would have been a dead man befo’ mornin’!”
“Aunt Fanny” kept herself liberally supplied with pocket money—one of her chief sources of revenue being soap, which she made in large quantities and sold at high prices; especially what she called her “butter soap,” which was in great demand, and which was made from all the butter which she did not consider fresh enough for the delicate appetites of her mistress and master. She appropriated one of the largest basement rooms, had it shelved and filled it with soap. In order to carry on business so extensively huge logs were kept blazing on the kitchen hearth under the soap pot day and night. During the war, wood becoming scarce and expensive, “Mars Charles” found it drained his purse to keep the kitchen fire supplied.
Thinking the matter over one day in his library, and concluding it would greatly lessen his expenses if Aunt Fanny could be prevailed upon to discontinue her soap trade, he sent for her, and said, very mildly: “Fanny, I have a proposition to make you.”
“What is it, Mars Charles?”