<h2><SPAN name="chap06"></SPAN>CHAPTER VI</h2>
<p class="letter">
Servants—Society—Evening Parties</p>
<p>The greatest difficulty in organising a family establishment in Ohio, is
getting servants, or, as it is there called, “getting help,” for it
is more than petty treason to the Republic, to call a free citizen a
<i>servant</i>. The whole class of young women, whose bread depends upon their
labour, are taught to believe that the most abject poverty is preferable to
domestic service. Hundreds of half-naked girls work in the paper-mills, or in
any other manufactory, for less than half the wages they would receive in
service; but they think their equality is compromised by the latter, and
nothing but the wish to obtain some particular article of finery will ever
induce them to submit to it. A kind friend, however, exerted herself so
effectually for me, that a tall stately lass soon presented herself, saying,
“I be come to help you.” The intelligence was very agreeable, and I
welcomed her in the most gracious manner possible, and asked what I should give
her by the year.</p>
<p>“Oh Gimini!” exclaimed the damsel, with a loud laugh, “you be
a downright Englisher, sure enough. I should like to see a young lady engage by
the year in America! I hope I shall get a husband before many months, or I
expect I shall be an outright old maid, for I be most seventeen already;
besides, mayhap I may want to go to school. You must just give me a dollar and
half a week, and mother’s slave, Phillis, must come over once a week, I
expect, from t’other side the water, to help me clean.” I agreed to
the bargain, of course, with all dutiful submission; and seeing she was
preparing to set to work in a yellow dress parseme with red roses, I gently
hinted, that I thought it was a pity to spoil so fine a gown, and that she had
better change it.</p>
<p>“’Tis just my best and my worst,” she answered, “for
I’ve got no other.”</p>
<p>And in truth I found that this young lady had left the paternal mansion with no
more clothes of any kind than what she had on. I immediately gave her money to
purchase what was necessary for cleanliness and decency, and set to work with
my daughters to make her a gown. She grinned applause when our labour was
completed, but never uttered the slightest expression of gratitude for that, or
for any thing else we could do for her. She was constantly asking us to lend
her different articles of dress, and when we declined it, she said,
“Well, I never seed such grumpy folks as you be; there is several young
ladies of my acquaintance what goes to live out now and then with the old women
about the town, and they and their gurls always lends them what they asks for;
I guess you Inglish thinks we should poison your things, just as bad as if we
was Negurs.” And here I beg to assure the reader, that whenever I give
conversations they were not made À LOISIR, but were written down immediately
after they occurred, with all the verbal fidelity my memory permitted.</p>
<p>This young lady left me at the end of two months, because I refused to lend her
money enough to buy a silk dress to go to a ball, saying, “Then
’tis not worth my while to stay any longer.”</p>
<p>I cannot imagine it possible that such a state of things can be desirable, or
beneficial to any of the parties concerned. I might occupy a hundred pages on
the subject, and yet fail to give an adequate idea of the sore, angry, ever
wakeful pride that seemed to torment these poor wretches. In many of them it
was so excessive, that all feeling of displeasure, or even of ridicule, was
lost in pity. One of these was a pretty girl, whose natural disposition must
have been gentle and kind; but her good feelings were soured, and her
gentleness turned to morbid sensitiveness, by having heard a thousand and a
thousand times that she was as good as any other lady, that all men were equal,
and women too, and that it was a sin and a shame for a free-born American to be
treated like a servant.</p>
<p>When she found she was to dine in the kitchen, she turned up her pretty lip,
and said, “I guess that’s ’cause you don’t think
I’m good enough to eat with you. You’ll find that won’t do
here.” I found afterwards that she rarely ate any dinner at all, and
generally passed the time in tears. I did every thing in my power to conciliate
and make her happy, but I am sure she hated me. I gave her very high wages, and
she staid till she had obtained several expensive articles of dress, and then,
UN BEAU MATIN, she came to me full dressed, and said, “I must go.”
“When shall you return, Charlotte?” “I expect you’ll
see no more of me.” And so we parted. Her sister was also living with me,
but her wardrobe was not yet completed, and she remained some weeks longer,
till it was.</p>
<p>I fear it may be called bad taste to say so much concerning my domestics, but,
nevertheless, the circumstances are so characteristic of America that I must
recount another history relating to them. A few days after the departure of my
ambitious belle, my cries for “Help” had been so effectual that
another young lady presented herself, with the usual preface “I’m
come to help you.” I had been cautioned never to ask for a reference for
character, as it would not only rob me of that help, but entirely prevent my
ever getting another; so, five minutes after she entered she was installed,
bundle and all, as a member of the family. She was by no means handsome, but
there was an air of simple frankness in her manner that won us all. For my own
part, I thought I had got a second Jeanie Deans; for she recounted to me
histories of her early youth, wherein her plain good sense and strong mind had
enabled her to win her way through a host of cruel step-mothers, faithless
lovers, and cheating brothers. Among other things, she told me, with the
appearance of much emotion, that she had found, since she came to town, a cure
for all her sorrows, “Thanks and praise for it, I have got
religion!” and then she asked if I would spare her to go to Meeting every
Tuesday and Thursday evening; “You shall not have to want me, Mrs.
Trollope, for our minister knows that we have all our duties to perform to man,
as well as to God, and he makes the Meeting late in the evening that they may
not cross one another.” Who could refuse? Not I, and Nancy had leave to
go to Meeting two evenings in the week, besides Sundays.</p>
<p>One night, that the mosquitoes had found their way under my net, and prevented
my sleeping, I heard some one enter the house very late; I got up, went to the
top of the stairs, and, by the help of a bright moon, recognised Nancy’s
best bonnet. I called to her: “You are very late.” said I.
“what is the reason of it?” “Oh, Mrs. Trollope,” she
replied, “I am late, indeed! We have this night had seventeen souls added
to our flock. May they live to bless this night! But it has been a long
sitting, and very warm; I’ll just take a drink of water, and get to bed;
you shan’t find me later in the morning for it.” Nor did I. She was
an excellent servant, and performed more than was expected from her; moreover,
she always found time to read the Bible several times in the day, and I seldom
saw her occupied about any thing without observing that she had placed it near
her.</p>
<p>At last she fell sick with the cholera, and her life was despaired of. I nursed
her with great care, and sat up the greatest part of two nights with her. She
was often delirious, and all her wandering thoughts seemed to ramble to heaven.
“I have been a sinner,” she said, “but I am safe in the Lord
Jesus.” When she recovered, she asked me to let her go into the country
for a few days, to change the air, and begged me to lend her three dollars.</p>
<p>While she was absent a lady called on me, and enquired, with some agitation, if
my servant, Nancy Fletcher, were at home. I replied that she was gone into the
country. “Thank God,” she exclaimed, “never let her enter
your doors again, she is the most abandoned woman in the town: a gentleman who
knows you, has been told that she lives with you, and that she boasts of having
the power of entering your house at any hour of night.” She told me many
other circumstances, unnecessary to repeat, but all tending to prove that she
was a very dangerous inmate.</p>
<p>I expected her home the next evening, and I believe I passed the interval in
meditating how to get rid of her without an <i>eclaircissement</i>. At length
she arrived, and all my study having failed to supply me with any other reason
than the real one for dismissing her, I stated it at once. Not the slightest
change passed over her countenance, but she looked steadily at me, and said, in
a very civil tone, “I should like to know who told you.” I replied
that it could be of no advantage to her to know, and that I wished her to go
immediately. “I am ready to go,” she said, in the same quiet tone,
“but what will you do for your three dollars?” “I must do
without them, Nancy; good morning to you.” “I must just put up my
things,” she said, and left the room. About half an hour afterwards, when
we were all assembled at dinner, she entered with her usual civil composed air,
“Well, I am come to wish you all goodbye,” and with a friendly
good-humoured smile she left us.</p>
<p>This adventure frightened me so heartily, that, notwithstanding I had the dread
of cooking my own dinner before my eyes, I would not take any more young ladies
into my family without receiving some slight sketch of their former history. At
length I met with a very worthy French woman, and soon after with a tidy
English girl to assist her; and I had the good fortune to keep them till a
short time before my departure: so, happily, I have no more misfortunes of this
nature to relate.</p>
<p>Such being the difficulties respecting domestic arrangements, it is obvious,
that the ladies who are brought up amongst them cannot have leisure for any
great development of the mind: it is, in fact, out of the question; and,
remembering this, it is more surprising that some among them should be very
pleasing, than that none should be highly instructed.</p>
<p>Had I passed as many evenings in company in any other town that I ever visited
as I did in Cincinnati, I should have been able to give some little account of
the conversations I had listened to; but, upon reading over my notes, and then
taxing my memory to the utmost to supply the deficiency, I can scarcely find a
trace of any thing that deserves the name. Such as I have, shall be given in
their place. But, whatever may be the talents of the persons who meet together
in society, the very shape, form, and arrangement of the meeting is sufficient
to paralyze conversation. The women invariably herd together at one part of the
room, and the men at the other; but, in justice to Cincinnati, I must
acknowledge that this arrangement is by no means peculiar to that city, or to
the western side of the Alleghanies. Sometimes a small attempt at music
produces a partial reunion; a few of the most daring youths, animated by the
consciousness of curled hair and smart waistcoats, approach the piano forte,
and begin to mutter a little to the half-grown pretty things, who are comparing
with one another “how many quarters’ music they have had.”
Where the mansion is of sufficient dignity to have two drawing-rooms, the
piano, the little ladies, and the slender gentlemen are left to themselves, and
on such occasions the sound of laughter is often heard to issue from among
them. But the fate of the more dignified personages, who are left in the other
room, is extremely dismal. The gentlemen spit, talk of elections and the price
of produce, and spit again. The ladies look at each other’s dresses till
they know every pin by heart; talk of Parson Somebody’s last sermon on
the day of judgment, on Dr. T’otherbody’s new pills for dyspepsia,
till the “tea” is announced, when they all console themselves
together for whatever they may have suffered in keeping awake, by taking more
tea, coffee, hot cake and custard, hoe cake, johny cake, waffle cake, and
dodger cake, pickled peaches, and preserved cucumbers, ham, turkey, hung beef,
apple sauce, and pickled oysters than ever were prepared in any other country
of the known world. After this massive meal is over, they return to the
drawing-room, and it always appeared to me that they remained together as long
as they could bear it, and then they rise EN MASSE, cloak, bonnet, shawl, and
exit.</p>
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