THE facile pencil of Strother, through "Harper's guided that pencil is Virginia born, and the good and New Monthly Magazine," under the title of "Virginia Illustrated," has given us the finest sketches of negro character ever delineated by art. The mind that the faithful negro, so often to be found under the milder sway of the patriarchal institution, appealed to its purest susceptibilities; and in placing upon the printed CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES FROM THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE POTOMAC. 207 page the servant, there was also at the same time de- | and date when the little cooing of the infant mouth aslineated "the friend." We have the pleasure of presenting, from the same master hand, two interesting specimens of "old servants," resemblances of which are to be found about the mansion of every old Virginian family. We allude to "The Nurse" and the "Mat Vender." The former is a great personage in every well-regulated family, and generally goes by the general name of "Aunty." She is a faithful old negress that has attended every one of the rising generation from their infancy up, and knows ten thousand pleasing reminiscences of "Master William" or "Mistress Alice," can tell when each put off the baby clothes to assume a more pretentious garb. She knows when the first tooth was cut, the first essay to walk was made, and can give day sumed articulate sound, and oh! prodigious! uttered the magic name of "Aunty." Great indeed is the blessing, in these degenerate days, of one of these faithful old creatures to our household; faithful as the sun, never-tiring, always kind, always enduring, always happy; blessed with a heart overflowing with kindness, and cures for the colic, religious to a fault, and perfect in the preparation of paps-a godsend, indeed, to helpless infancy and just developing childhood. It is "old aunty" who keeps the ghosts out of the bedroom, and sits up with the children winter nights, when the window sashes rattle, and the juvenile imagination suggests that there are "spooks about." It is "old aunty" who can keep the baby still when all ordinary nursing has failed; her แ very influence is soporific, and the complaining little | raiment. In the old "Mat Vender," we have the negro incipient humanity, under her influence, wilts into a "Nestor," who, having grown grey in the service of his trans-peaceful bud, or becomes as quiet as if it hung massa," is now allowed to spend the evening of his inanimate upon some neighboring tree. Who, that has days in the manner most agreeable to his own notions. felt the benign influences of these sable guardians of little While selling the mats and brooms, he gathers up all the folks, does not venerate their appearance, and look upon absorbing gossip of the day; hence "Uncle Pomp" them as juvenile kindly providences exerted especially becomes a great orator; and the solemnity with which to alleviate, and make bearable, the pains and troubles his exercitations are pronounced, is not the least salient of infantile life? UNCLE," THE MAT VENDER, is gene- point of his character. On his return at evening rally an old servant, who, from long service and good to the patriarchal home, our old negro friend is to character, has won immunity from fixed tasks, and be found seated by the kitchen fire, retailing to his employs his time as he pleases, either sleeping in the delighted audience of brother and sister Cuffeessunshine, working in the garden, going on hunting expe- and very possibly there may be present young “massa,” ditions with the little masters, or, perhaps, more indus- and "missus "-the wonderful results of his outside triously inclined, goes into the manufacturing busi- observations; his oratorical narrative is always listened ness, and makes crude articles of household wear, to with the most reverent attention, and the innocent which, though of little value, deludes the good-natured feeling of profound wisdom which fills the old fellow's creature that he is not altogether useless in the world, breast, is as pleasant to the intelligent listener to connor altogether dependent on his friends for food and template as it is delightful to himself to entertain. THE portion of country called the Dutch Fork lies | posed of the same materials, graced the head of the between the Broad and Saluda rivers, in South Carolina. board. Occasionally, for a change, a pot of mush It is still inhabited by descendants of its first settlers who were emigrants from every part of Germany. In 1788, the region had all the characteristics of a Dutch colony, and much of its soil was under cultivation by these sturdy, labor-loving farmers. Being natives of different provinces in the Faderland, the language used by these settlers was various, and sometimes they found difficulty in understanding one another. Their manners and customs were also diverse; but the experience of a few years taught them to vary a little from the habits familiar in their own country, for the sake of accommodating each other in this "wild Indian land"-as they called their new home. The distinctions in dress and living to which many of them had clung, were given up for the simpler habits of a pioneer people. It is curious, in the luxurious indulgence of modern time as to the table-on which Southern country landholders pride themselves-to see on what frugal fare these primitive worthies lived. Tea or coffee formed no part of the usual morning repast; but on Sunday, the good wife prepared a beverage that might have had a table-spoonful infused into seven or eight gallons. Rolled cakes, or Johnny-cake shortened, were the universal solid material for breakfast, meat of any kind being seldom used. But as a substitute for tea or coffee, a dish of soup, renewed every morning, though com was prepared, and set on in a large pewter basin, with an opening made in the middle of the savory mess, large enough to contain a quart of sweet milk. Into this was dipped each spoonful of the hot mush by the rosy-cheeked urchins and kinky-headed girls who stood round the oaken table-each furnished with a large pewter spoon, and performing his or her part in the dexterous game of transferring the mush to the milk and then to the mouth, at all sorts of angles and cross purposes. The children of that day were especially fond of this mess, and the women skillful in its preparation. The dress of the younger females for Sunday, was a petticoat of flax or cotton warp, filled in with woollen yarn of various shades and colors; the prevailing tints being green, red, yellow and blue. The yarn was dyed at home with leaves and flowers gathered from the forest; and weaved in the domestic loom; and the broader and brighter the stripes which ran through the cloth, the more beautiful it was thought to be. The like may now be seen in what are called Duffel blankets. be plainly seen. White stockings and high-heeled shoes, and a man's hat, completed the costume in which these damsels might be seen tripping to church, she who had a lover, walking hand in hand with him. The gallant wore a hunting-shirt or home-made coat, with shorts or knee-breeches as they were called, and cotton stockings or a pair of leggins without stockings, covering the leg to the shoe. The clothing of both sexes was of homemanufacture, for no one among the working-people ever thought of buying raiment at a store. As fashion will reign even in the wildwoods, some articles of dress were in special favor, particularly buckshin breeches, and those who made them plied a profitable trade. The old settlers yet remember Christian Hope-or as he was generally called-Houpt-who earned a respectable livelihood by the manufacture of this article. He was the grandfather of the excellent and much-respected Rev. John C. Hope, whose name is familiar in South Carolina. While taking a view of the primitive customs of our ancestors, it will not be amiss to describe their mode of courtship and marriage. Washington Irving has mentioned the practice of "bundling" among the NewEnglanders; the method was not dissimilar among the Dutch settlers; and although young ladies of the present day may be shocked-our veritable chronicler assures us that departures from strict virtue were then of very, very rare occurrence. The apartment occupied by the young girls of the family had each a square window of somewhat peculiar construction. After the household had retired to rest, when all was profound stillness, the adventurous suitor would climb in at this window, approach the bed where his charmer lay, and stretch himself composedly by her side. She took this intrusion as a common-place piece of gallantry, entered into conversation with him, and they discussed matters of interest till the day began to break, when the lover bade adieu, leaped from the window and was gone. If the maiden to whom his addresses were thus paid, looked with favorable eye on his suit, she promised to marry him, and received from the young man a dollar to clinch the bargain. The next step was to inform the parents, or nearest relatives of the bride; and their consent obtained, his own relations were told of the intended marriage. They immediately went to the bride's family to hold a consultation as to the time of the wedding and the arrangements to be made for it, and then the minister of the congregation was informed -it being his duty to publish the bans from the pulpit three successive Sundays. The wedding always took place at the house of the bride. On the appointed day the invited guests and acquaintances might be seen mounted on horseback and coming from every direction. Among them, a man previously appointed to the duty of escorting the bride, was called the "bride-leader;" and the two young men, with each a damsel by his side, appeared as attendants. The fiddler came up with his violin under his arm, and each of these officials wore a distinctive badge-a breast-knot of ribbons of various colors. The bridegroom and his groomsman were also gay in crimson ribbons, and the fiddle had scarlet streamers a yard long attached to its neck. The procession was headed by a person riding a steady horse, and leading that of the musician. When all were ranged in file, two and two, they started-the bride and her leader going next the fiddler, the groom alone, followed by his attendants, and the rest of the company in order. Alighting at the church door, they walked in, the fiddler stepping aside at the entrance and standing still, plying his instrument vigorously, till all were seated in the sacred building-still observing the same order. The minister then went into the pulpit and preached a sermon suited to the occasion. He then performed the ceremony of marriage, and dismissed the assembly with a benediction, which was scarcely uttered when the fiddle was again heard at the door. The party returned in the same form as before, except that the husband took the precedence, while the wife followed in token of her submission thenceforward. There was then a race among some of the bestmounted young men for "the bride's bottle," which was taken by the fleetest horse. After the party had returned to the house, the bride and her leader lead the festivities by dancing three Dutch dances, at the end of which the official delivered the lady to her husband to dance the same number with him; he returning her, when they were finished, to dance again with the leader. The dancing then became general, and continued till dinner. The wedding-feast consisted of rice soup and chicken, sour krout and bacon, roast beef and pork, baked fowl and chicken-pies; these last a different article and called by a different name from the modern manufacture. While the repast continued, those of the men who were not too intently occupied, would watch the opportunity to dodge under the table and slip off one of the bride's shoes. Whoever was so fortunate as to obtain the prize, set it up, after dinner, to the highest bidder, who, of course, was the leader, and who was responsible for any loss or injury sustained that day by the bride. Sometimes, as a punishment for carelessness on his part, its price was run up as high as five dollars. Over the bride's head, as she sat at the table, a huge cake was suspended from one of the joists of the Louse. It was decorated with ribbons of all colors and artificial flowers woven into a wreath around it. This was divided in due time for the guests, and they were served with rum or whisky; separating at an early hour to return to their homes. The master-spirit of the Dutch Fork-made so by honest industry and persevering labor-was Col. John A. Summer, the son of Adam Summer, one of the pioneer settlers, who had come in 1750, and settled on Crim's or Grim's Creek, in what was then Orangeburg District, near the line dividing it from Ninety-six; now the line of division between Newberry and Lexington Districts. He had several sons younger than John, from whom sprang a numerous offspring-many living in their native State at the present day, and others settled in the West. One of the first victims to the perilous state of things in this region, was a member of this family. Nicholas Summer had already gained the rank of captain, and commenced life promisingly. One day, riding along the road from Granby, then Congaree and Kenneley's ferry on the Saluda river, being on military duty, he was killed by the accidental discharge of another officer's rifle. He left a widow, and a son now living near his old home. Among the settlers of the Fork were two brothers from Odenwald, named John and Peter Setzler. The first was a gunsmith, and was called in the neighborhood "Rifle-maker;" the other a tailor, had obtained the cognomen of "Schneider Peter." Indeed nothing was more common than these sort of nicknames among the inhabitants of the Fork, especially the Swabians from Schwarbzwald, the most numerous class among the emigrants, and very blunt in their manners. Wherever there was a "Jacob," or Yockle," it was sure to have a prefix; there was "Nacht Yockle' "Rock Rockle"-" Branch Yockle"-" Mourer Yockle" "Krum Yockle," and innumerable others. "John " was transmuted into "Hantz," and there was "Wild Hantz," "Schneider Hantz," &c., &c. One man named John Oswald, who had a notable son which he called his "Kozle," was thereafter known by the cognomen of Kozle Hantz," and was thus called to the day of his death: nay, his children and grandchildren bear the name to this day. One evening a party of scouts from the lower country, was approaching the little settlement where the Setzlers lived. The country had suffered much from the depredations of these marauders, who properly belonged to neither party in the Revolutionary struggle, and robbed and murdered according to their lawless will; for their watchword was, "free plunder." The party halted a few moments at the house of a farmer called Abraham Chapman, for refreshment, and in the brief conversation that ensued, their purpose to assault the house of John Setzler, leaked out. "I reckon I have seen you afore," said one of the Forkers, who had been standing by the horses' heads. "You come from the Fork between the Enoree and Tygar." The ruffian laid his hand on his weapon, but on second thoughts nodded, and grinned a savage recognition to the person who seemed to know him, inly resolving that he should perish for it. "You be going to the Rifle-maker's! Now, do you know who helps them fellows-him and his brother?" asked the Forker. "The Devil! I suppose!" "Hush-not so loud; he may hear you! but it is the fact. I tell you, sirs, the whole country knows it." "Knows what?" "That nothing can ever succeed agin 'em. have the power!" It was really true that the brothers Setzler were looked on with dread throughout that superstitious community, being supposed to possess supernatural gifts. Many strange and dark stories were told among the settlers, illustrating the imaginary powers bestowed upon them. When questioned further, the boy continued— "As I said, Ridlehober and Metz were determined to have some of Schneider Peter's splendid melons. There they was, ripe in the patch, and no one durst touch one on 'em!" "I'd a made bold to ax him then!" observed another boy. "And be huffed for your pains, and mebbe poisoned if he was the devil's own sarvant!" returned the other. "Wall, as I was tellin' ye, they went that same night arter the melons. It was dark as pitch, and they mounted their colts and had their meal-bags to fetch the beautiful melons away for supper. Each on 'em crammed in as many as the bag would hold, and they carried the stuffed bags to the fence, and hoisted 'em to their shoulders to fling 'em over. But when they had got the bags up, they couldn't move to throw 'em over, nor to flop 'em down agin." "Stuff!" cried the leader; "What held 'em?" "Massy on ye! 'twas the power !” cried the lad, and with a half groan of fear, his auditors looked around them. "I tell ye truth; the Rifle-maker and Schneider Peter is both able to make any man stop still, and not move hand or foot-for as long as they please! It's not to be done in the day; for as soon as it began to be morning, Metz and the other fellow got back their strength like a flash o' lightnin'. But the old man had come out, and gin 'em a scoldin', and as he bade 'em begone, and come back no more, the day broke and they were free!" The scouts begged their leader to take warning, and not attempt anything against these Mysterious Brothers; but he had heard they had money in the Rifle-maker's. cabin, and he was determined to venture all risks. Though he laughed at their superstitious terrors, he was not free from their influence, but to drown them, he sprang to horse, and the party rode rapidly on. The night was very dark, but a candle was burning in the house of the Rifle-maker. As they came up, the marauders drew a little back quite suddenly, for they saw the outline of the old man's head, sitting at the aperture which served for a window. Their leader took no thought, but dashing up, sprang from his horse, and presented a pistol at the old man's breast. "I want your hard money!" he cried, with a brutal oath. "Take it!" said the deep hollow voice of the RifleThey maker. The scouts waited for the report of the pistol. Shoot!-why don't you shoot! you rascal?" cried the same deep voice. "The devil's power?" and the marauders looked at each other anxiously, till the leader burst into a laugh. "Ah! you had better take care!" said one of the lads belonging to the house. "You may be served like Mete and Ridlehober." There was no reply. Without a word more, the scouts jerked about their horses, and fled as on the wings of the wind. Had they not beheld their leader paralyzed, as the dying gleam |