VIRGINIA SCENES IN ’6i.
T HE only association I have with my old home inVirginia that is not one of nnmixed happinessrelates to the time immediately succeeding the exe-cution of John Brown at Charlestown. Our home-stead was in Fairfax County , at some distancefrom the theater of that tragic episode; and, be-longing as we did to a family among the first inthe State to manumit slaves,—our grandfather hav-ing set free those that came to him by inheritance,and the people who served us being hired from theirowners and remaining in our employ through years of kindliest relations,—there seemed to be no especial reason for us to share in the apprehension of anuprising of the blacks. But there was the fear — unspoken, or pooh-poohedat by the men who were moutli-pieces for our community—dark, boding,oppressive, and altogether hateful. I can remember taking it to bed with meat night, and awaking suddenly oftentimes to confront it through a vigil ofnervous terror, of which it never occurred to me to speak to any one. Thenotes of whip-poor-wills in the sweet-gnm swamp near the stable, the mut-terings of a distant thunder-storm, even the rustle of the night wind in theoaks that shaded my window, filled me with nameless dread. In the day-time it seemed impossible to associate suspicion with those familiar tawny orsable faces that surrounded us. We had seen them for so many years smil-ing or saddening with the family joys or sorrows; they were so guileless, sopatient, so satisfied. What subtle influence was at work that should trans-form them into tigers thirsting for our blood ? The idea was preposterous.But when evening came again, and with it the hour when the colored people(who in summer and autumn weather kept astir half the night) assembledthemselves together for dance or prayer-meeting, the ghost that refused to belaid was again at one’s elbow. Busty bolts were drawn and rusty fire-armsloaded. A watch was set where never before had eye or ear been lent to sucha service. In short, peace had flown from the borders of Virginia .
Although the newspapers were full of secession talk and the matter waseagerly discussed at our tables, I cannot remember that, as late as Christmas-time of the year 1860, coming events had cast any definite shadow 7 on ourhomes. The people in our neighborhood, of one opinion with their dear andhonored friend, Colonel Bobert E. Lee, of Arlington, were slow to accept thestartling suggestion of disruption of the Union. At any rate, we enjoyed theusual holiday gathering of kinsfolk in the usual fashion. The old Vauclusehouse, known for many years past as a center of cheerful hospitality in thecounty, threw wide open its doors to receive all the members w 7 ho could begathered there of a large family circle. The vmods about were despoiled of
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CONFEDERATE BATTLE-FLAG. SEE PAGE 165.
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