Smart as these beaux are, the fair sex make a much greater display. Their favourite colours are pink, blue, and bright yellow, and of these their dresses are generally composed; but the manner in which these several shades are arranged defies all description. For example—a dress of white gauze or net, over a yellow slip, is profusely decorated with quillings of blue ribbon, interspersed with red flowers; or perhaps a blue dress is ornamented with green trimmings. Of course these dresses are made in the height of the fashion, very long skirts with flounces, and tight sleeves, with lace ruffles, and streamers of varied tints, while the long kid or lace gloves, are drawn up the arm to the exact point at which such articles are worn. Among the bijouterie displayed upon these gala nights, may be distinguished a diversity of brass bracelets, two or three encircling the same arm; numberless rings, in which the “lively diamond,” the ruby’s “deepening glow,” the sapphire’s “solid ether,” the “purple amethyst,” the yellow topaz, and the green emerald, are wonderfully imitated in coloured glass; these choice gems are liberally bestowed upon every finger, and I am not quite sure that the thumb is exempted. Splendid brass chains also encircle their (not) swan-like necks, long pendants gleam from their ears, and very pink silk stockings, with red, blue, or yellow shoes, are called in, to astonish with their brilliancy of hue, the eyes of their attendant youths. But notwithstanding all this finery, it is upon the adornment of their heads that these ladies lavish the most time and pains. This may surprise some, when they consider how devoid the negroes are of that great natural ornament which Rowland, by the aid of his incomparable “Macassar,” so kindly and bountifully offers to dispense; but still it is no less true, for what Dame Nature denies, art bestows in the shape of a false set of curls, or a complete toupée. These ringlets are cleverly fastened on by bands of different coloured cotton-velvet, and the back of the head is covered with wreaths of flowers and bunches of ribbons. Those whose natural hair is long enough, wear it in what they term “French curls;” but they never fail to have a sufficient quantity of flowers intermixed with them.
The gentlemen are particularly polite to the ladies, attending to their little wants with the greatest assiduity, and watching their every movement, to anticipate, if possible, their wishes. The ladies are also quite graceful in their manners, and forget not to practise those pretty little airs of affectation which some of their white sisters so ably perform.
When the tuning of instruments is over, and the musicians, by stamping their feet and drawing up their persons to their full height, give notice that they are ready, and have full confidence in their own powers of drawing from wood and catgut “a concord of sweet sounds,” the ball commences. A gentleman advances with smirk and bow—“Oh, Miss, will you dance wid me?” “I’se must be excuse, Mr. Charles Edward, ’cause I’se got to dance wid Mr. Albert” “Oh, Miss, den me be too late.” Another lady is therefore sought and won—“Wid much pleasure, Mr. Charles Edward.” At the end of the set, refreshments are handed about, and again the gentlemen vie with each other in shewing forth their gallantry—“Miss, will you hab a glass of drink?” “I’se feel much obliged to you, sir, if you please.” The “drink” is composed of ginger, water, molasses, and “Christmas bush,” drank in a fermented state.
While the dancing is going on in one room, another apartment, (or, if the house contains not such a desideratum,) a neighbouring domicile is being prepared for the supper. Here, again, their taste is shewn in the arrangement of the flowers &c. with which the table is decorated, and in the disposal of the many viands which are prepared for the occasion. They generally employ a gentleman’s servant to superintend, so that this is often performed in the first style. Among the multitudinous supply of eatables may be found baked mutton, legs of pork, turkeys, ducks, fowls, and guinea-birds; hams, tongues, salt-beef, and cheese; cakes, tarts, and fruits, flanked by no inconsiderable quantities of yams, sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, (as the Creoles always term them, whether they come from England, Ireland, Scotland, France, or America,) boiled rice, and bread. Nor must it be supposed these solids want the accompaniment of liquids—rum, brandy, wines, and brown stout, are as liberally provided, and as liberally partaken of.
Perhaps it may be asked, how do the negroes obtain these different articles specified,—where find the cash to meet these heavy demands? In the first place, it must be taken into consideration, that nearly all the negroes who reside in the country, upon the different estates, keep a great deal of stock; they have their patch of ground, in which they raise vegetables; and living as they do nearly all the rest of the year upon less expensive dishes, they have money enough by them to procure the above luxuries. Then again, it must be remarked, that it is not one family which gives these routs, but almost in every instance it is a joint concern. The company pay a proportion, by the gentlemen procuring tickets to admit themselves and ladies for half-a-dollar, about 2s. 3d. sterling, which of itself affords sufficient means to provide all those sumptuous viands and costly liquids with which they regale themselves when fatigued with dancing. The competition for opening the ball is generally very great, and from one to five dollars is demanded for that honour; but such has been the contest at times that a doubloon, or 3l. 4s. sterling, has been offered for obtaining the enviable post; and this of course further adds to their resources.
When these grand balls are held in the country, the servants feel no reluctance in riding their masters’ horses to and from the place of entertainment; and consequently it is nothing uncommon for great complaints to be made the next morning by different gentlemen, when they visit their stables. “Why, Thomas, what’s the matter with this horse? how jaded he looks,” says the gent, addressing his groom; “I hope it’s not ill!” “Me no no, massa; me quite sick meself, dat de trute,” replies one of the beaux of the preceding night. “And this one,” continues his master, “his legs are quite swollen, and he’s all over mud; I hope you have not been riding them last night, sirrah! I know you are full of tricks!” “Eh, eh! massa, me no say, me quite sick; war for me go ride de poor dumb brute for, dat’s all?”
While this dialogue passes in the stable between the injured master and his faulty groom, respecting the state of “de poor dumb brute,” who, had he the power of speech, could, like Hamlet’s ghost, “a tale unfold,” a similar conversation takes place in the house between the mistress and her confidential(!) domestic. “Celestina, what is the matter with you this morning? you don’t seem to know what you are doing,—are you ill?” “No, ma’am.” “Then what do you look so heavy and dull about?” “Me no able to sleep last night, missis,” is the answer of the fatigued belle.
When the family meet around the breakfast table, “My dear,” says the lady, addressing her cara sposa, “do you know where John (the butler) is gone?” “No, my dear,” returns her better half, sipping his mocha; “is he not in the house?” “No; he has not been seen since last night.” “Very strange,” rejoins the gentleman. “I must make inquiries about it as soon as I have looked over the ‘Weekly Register;’ the fellow gets too bad.” At this moment the door opens, and John enters, his head tied up in a handkerchief and a quantity of plantain leaves;[[29]] his countenance, deprived of its naturally deep black, displays a sickly-looking hue; his heavy blood-shot eyes, turning from one member of the family to the other, as if to inquire what they had been saying about him, and presenting altogether a most rueful appearance. “Why, John,” cries his master, elevating his eyebrows, and wiping his spectacles, to be certain it is really the lost butler,—“Why, John, where have you been, and what have you been doing with yourself?” “Quite sick, massa,” returns poor John, in a very doleful tone; “hab feber all last night, neber sleep ’tall a ’tall; head really hurt me; ’bleive me go get hager,” &c. The real fact of the case, John was one of the party the night before, who had paid their devoirs too zealously to the “rosy god,” “jolly Bacchus,” and the consequence was, headache and all its accompanying et-ceteras, without the benefit of “soda water” or “Morison’s pills of health.”
When these “grand balls” are in contemplation, great is the flurry and fluster of the conductors; cards of invitation are issued about eight or ten days before; glasses, lamps, dishes, &c., are borrowed from managers or overseers upon the estate where the rout is given, or if in town, from any “buckra” who they may live with; flowers are begged, or gardens robbed; and many other necessary deeds achieved. I have several of these “cards of invite” lying before me, and for the edification of my readers, I will transcribe one or two of them verbatim:—“Mr. James Hammilton Compliments to Mr. James, and invite him to a Quadrille party on Tuesday next week, with lady;” addressed, “Mr. James Hammilton to Mr. James, Spring Gardens.” This is written upon paper, which had once been white, but, alas! too many touches have tarnished its fair character. The next which comes to hand is traced upon that particular kind of green paper which we commonly see wrapped round quills in the stationers’ shop windows, in far-famed London, and is expressed as follows:—“Mr. James will be happy of Mr. Brown and Lady Company on Saturday the 2nd Quarter of the Moon. Price 4s. 6d. Lower Form.”[[30]] The direction to this last-named note is, I think, very unique—
“Mr. Brown,
“Town!”