ABOUT a quarter past eight o'clock in the evening, Master George, as he called himself, the little pedantic man, came skipping down the wharf. As soon as he approached the brig, he cried out at the top of his voice, "Captain! Captain!!"
The Captain stepped to the gangway, and the little fellow, who had stood crossing and working his fingers, reached out his hand to assist him ashore. This done, he took the Captain's arm, and commencing a discourse upon the wonderful things and people of South Carolina they wended their way to the Charleston Theatre. The company then performing was a small affair, and the building itself perfectly filthy, and filled with an obnoxious stench. The play was a little farce, which the Captain had seen to much perfection in his own country, and which required some effort of mind to sit out its present mutilation. Yet, so highly pleased was Master George, that he kept up a succession of applauses at every grimace made by the comedian. Glad when the first piece was over, the Captain made a motion to adjourn to the first good bar-room and have a punch. It was agreed, upon the condition that the little man should "do the honor," and that they should return and see the next piece out. The Captain, of course, yielded to the rejoinder, though it was inflicting a severe penalty upon his feelings. There was another piece to come yet, which the little fellow's appetite was as ready to devour as the first. The Captain, seeing this, could not refrain expressing his surprise. This was taken as a charge against his taste, and George immediately commenced a discussion upon the subject of the piece, the intention of the author, and the merits of the principal performers, whose proper adaptation he admired. The Captain knew his subject, and instead of contending in detail, advised him to take a peep into the theatres of New York and London. Not to be undone, for he was like all little men, who insist upon the profoundness of their own opinions, he asserted that it could be only the different views which individuals entertained of delineating character, and that the Charlestonians were proverbially correct in their judgment of music and dramatic performances.
"I pity the judgment that would award merit to such a performance as that," said the Captain.
"How strange, that you Englishmen and Scotchmen always find fault with every thing we Americans do. Your writers manifest it in their books upon us and the people seem of necessity to copy from them, and echo their grumblings," rejoined Master George.
"You judge from the common saying, instead of a knowledge front observation, I fear," said the Captain.
"Lord, sir! you must not judge me by that rule. Carolinians, sir, always appreciate intelligent strangers, for they always exert a healthy influence, and never meddle with our institutions; so you see it wouldn't do to follow the pestilent notions of petty scribblers, lest we should form wrong opinions."
"But tell me," said the Captain, "do you consider yourselves Americans in South Carolina?--the pilot must have led me astray."
"Americans! yes, indeed, the true blood at that, and no man of tip-top judgment ever questioned it. But you must mark the difference; we ha'n't Yankees, nor we don't believe in their infernal humbuggery about abolition. If it wasn't for South Carolina and Georgia, the New-Englanders would starve for want of our cotton and rice. It's the great staple what keeps the country together; and as much as they talk about it, just take that away, and what would the United States be? We South Carolinians give no symptoms or expressions of what we mean to do that we cannot maintain. We have been grossly insulted by the Federal Government, but it dar'n't come at us and just give us a chance at fair fight. We'd show 'em the thunder of the Palmetto, that they'd never trouble our sovereignty again. Captain, I pledge you my honor that if there wasn't so many infernal Yankees in Georgia, and she'd follow our lead in secession, we'd just lick the whole North. Georgia's a big State, but she a'n't pluck, and has no chivalry at all among her people. She allows such privileges to them Yankees-gives them power to control her manufacturing interests-and this is just what will uproot the foundation of their slave institution. Georgians a'n't a bit like us; first, they are too plebeian in their manners-have no bond of guardianship for their laws, and exert no restraints for the proper protection of good society. But, Captain, their stock has a different origin, and the peculiarity which now marks our character may be traced to the offspring of early settlement. We derived our character and sentiments from the Huguenots; they, from an uncharacterized class of coarse adventurers, whose honesty was tinctured with penal suspicion. This, sir, accounts for the differences so marked in our character."
The little fellow pressed this kind of conversation in the lobby of the theatre, and at the same time took the very particular pleasure of introducing the Captain to several of the young bloods, as he called them, while they walked to and from the boxes. At length the Captain found himself in a perfect hornet's nest, surrounded by vicious young secessionists, so perfectly nullified in the growth that they were all ready to shoulder muskets, pitchforks, and daggers, and to fire pistols at poor old Uncle Sam, if he should poke his nose in South Carolina. The picture presented was that of an unruly set of children dictating their opinions to a hoary-headed old daddy-accusing him of pragmatism, and threatening, if he was twice as old, they'd whip him unless he did as they directed. The knowledge of South Carolina's power and South Carolina's difficulties with the Federal Government he found so universally set forth as to form the atmosphere of conversation in the parlor, the public-house, the school and the bar-room, the lecture-room and the theatre.
The little man extended his invitation to a party of the bloods. The Captain was taken by the arms in a kind of bond fellowship, and escorted into Baker's eating-saloon, a place adjacent to the theatre, and, to a man unaccustomed to the things that are in Charleston, a very rowdy place. This is considered by Charlestonians one of the finest places in the Southern country; where good suppers and secession (the all-engrossing subjects with Charlestonians) form the only important element of conversation. It may be set down as a fact, that among seven-tenths of the people of Charleston, the standard of a gentleman is measured according to his knowledge of secession and his ability to settle the question of hot suppers. We say nothing of that vigorous patriotism so often manifested in a long string of fulsome toasts that disgrace the columns of the Mercury and Courier.
At Baker's the place was literally crowded with all kinds and characters, graded from the honorable judge down to the pot-boy; a pot-pouri of courtesy and companionship only exhibited in England on the near approach of elections. The reader may think this strange, but we can assure him that distinctions are strangely maintained; an exclusive arrogance being observed in private life, while a too frequent and general resort to bar-rooms has established plebeianism in public. Voices were sounding at all parts of the counter, and for as many different voices as many different mixtures were named. The Captain received a great many introductions, and almost as many invitations to drink; but the little man, Master George, claimed the exclusive honor, and keeping an eye wide awake, took the advantage of his own dimensions, and began working his way through a barricade of bodies and elbows, until he had reached the counter. His party followed close, at his heels. Altogether, they called for cocktails, smashes, toddies, cobblers, juleps, and legitimates. These disposed of, the company repaired to what is called a "box up-stairs." Scarcely seated, Master George rang the bell with such violence that he disjointed the cord and tassel, and gave such an alarm that three or four darkies came poking their alarmed countenances through the curtains at once.
"There's nothing like making the fellows mind; they've got so infernal independent here, and old Tom thinks so much of his young wife, that his niggers have begun to imitate him. One's enough at a time!" said Master George, with all the importance of his character. A "bright boy," with his hair nicely parted on the middle of his head, and frizzed for the occasion, made a polite bow, while the others retired.
"What have you choice for supper, to-night? We want something ripe for the palate-none of your leavings, now, you infernal nigger, and don't tell us none of your lies."
"Birds, sir, grouse, woodcock, partridge, canvas-backs, and quails; meats, venison, and oysters, master-did up in any shape what the gentlemen wish. Wines, &c., if they want," replied the servant, without any of the negro dialect, at the same time making a low bow to Master George.
"Name it! name your dishes, gentlemen! Don't be backward. I suppose his birds are as usual, without age to flavor them. It's perfectly heathenish to eat birds as they are served here: we never get a bird here that is sufficiently changed to suit a gentleman o' taste; their beef's tough, and such steak as they make is only fit for shoemakers and blacksmiths. I never come into the place but I think of my journey in France, where they know the style and taste of a gentleman, and things are served to suit your choice." Thus our little friend continued his connoisseur remarks, to give the Captain a particular idea of his proficiency in the requisite qualities, age, and time of keeping necessary to make the adjuncts of a supper fit for a gentleman. "D--me! we don't know when edibles are choice, and the Yankees are perfect brutes in these things, and have no more taste than a cow. Our folks ought to all go to France for a year or two, to learn the style of cooking. It's perfect murder to eat a bird the very day after it's killed; yes, sir! no man that considers his stomach will do it," said George.
The servant waited impatiently-the Captain rubbed his eyes, and began to pour out a glass of water; and dryly said he'd no choice, which was responded to by the rest. It was left to Master George, and he ordered a bountiful supply of grouse, partridges, oyster, and champagne of his favourite brand-none other. There was also a billiard-room, reading-room, a room for more important gambling, and a bar-room, up-stairs. All these were well filled with very well-dressed and very noisy people; the latter being a very convenient place, the party sent to it for tipplers to fill up time.
"This is but a small portion of what constitutes life in Charleston, Captain. We live for living's sake, and don't stand upon those blueskin theories of temperance and religion that Yankees do, and blame the Father of generations for not making the world better. I never saw one of them that wasn't worse than we Southerners before he'd been in Charleston a year, and was perfect death on niggers. Yes, sir, it's only the extreme goodness of the Southern people's hearts that makes the niggers like them so. I never saw a Northerner yet that wouldn't work his niggers to death in two years. D--me, sir, my servants all love me as if I was a prince. Have you ever been in France, sir?" said he, suddenly breaking off. The Captain replied in the affirmative.
"Ah! then you can speak French! the most polished language known to refined society. I wouldn't part with my French for the world. All the first families in Charleston are familiar with it. It's the modern gentleman's curt-blanche to society here. There's no language like it for beauty and flexibility; but one must go to France and learn to acquire its grace and ease," said he, in rapid succession, rolling out his words in imitation of a London sprig of the Inner Temple, and working his little mastiff mouth.
"No, sir," said the Captain quaintly. "I never stopped long enough in France to get hold of the lingo."............