The Old Dominion

The Old Dominion

George Payne Rainsford James, Historiographer Royal to King William IV., was born in London in the first year of the nineteenth century, and died at Venice in 1860. His comparatively short life was exceptionally full and active. He was historian, politician and traveller, the reputed author of upwards of a hundred novels, the compiler and editor of nearly half as many volumes of letters, memoirs, and biographies, a poet and a pamphleteer, and, during the last ten years of his life, British Consul successively in Massachusetts, Norfolk (Virginia), and Venice. He was on terms of friendship with most of the eminent men of his day. Scott, on whose style he founded his own, encouraged him to persevere in his career as a novelist; Washington Irving admired him, and Walter Savage Landor composed an epitaph to his memory. He achieved the distinction of being twice burlesqued by Thackeray, and two columns are devoted to an account of him in the new "Dictionary of National Biography." Each generation follows its own gods, and G. P. R. James was, perhaps, too prolific an author to maintain the popularity which made him "in some ways the most successful novelist of his time." But his work bears selection and revival. It possesses the qualities of seriousness and interest; his best historical novels are faithful in setting and free in movement. His narrative is clear, his history conscientious, and his plots are well-conceived. English learning and literature are enriched by the work of this writer, who made vivid every epoch in the world's history by the charm of his romance. Picking up a novel by the historical novelist G. P. R. James, with Virginia as subject and "The Old Dominion" for title, one inevitably expects a romance about Elizabethan adventures and noble savages, something after the manner of Fenimore Cooper, with an air of greater antiquity. What, then, is our surprise to find that the veteran romancer has given us a novel of recent history, with facetious sketches of Yankee oddities, a plot based on a legal imbroglio, and a painstaking study of that perennial problem, the negro question. "The Old Dominion" is, in fact, James's "American Notes" and "Martin Chuzzlewit," though the portraiture is altogether kindly, and the satire of the mildest kind. He has observed the life and manners of the country where he resided as British Consul with the same minute care as that which he lavishes on his historical studies. Without Dickens's virulent and entertaining comedy, the picture of life in Virginia in the thirties is probably far truer because of this scrupulous accuracy, and because of the moderation and patient endeavour to decide justly upon disputed points. Years before "Uncle Tom's Cabin," James gave the English public this thoughtful picture of slavery. He is not one-sided. He rather discloses at once the evils of slavery and the difficulties of emancipation in a purely imaginative way without pleading strongly for a remedy. He shows powerfully what a terrible retribution has been brought upon the land by those who introduced slavery. The negro's insane ferocity when freed from control, and the peril of a small white population at the mercy of a host of revolted slaves, are brought out in the history of the negro insurrection, which is traced from its origin in the preaching of McGrubber and the misguided brooding of Nat Turner, down to its repression. The hero and heroine and the love romance, with its profusion of obstacles to happiness, are the familiar ones, with a modern instead of a medi[ae]val environment. But the vivacity of the style is quite unusual. Mr. Byles is epigrammatic with his three distinctions between the North and the South. "In the South they fight duels whenever they can, have slaves for their servants, and grow tobacco and corn. In New England they never fight if they can help it, are slaves to their own servants, and make wooden clocks and wooden nutmegs." And our serious romancer even ventures on a broad joke quite frequently. I wrote to you, my dear sister, from the pretty little town of Baltimore; and I hope you have received my letter. Although this so speedily follows it, my only motives for writing are, to occupy idle time, and to relieve your mind from apprehension regarding my safety during my passage through all the terrors of Chesapeake Bay: "that long and dreadful inlet," as you call it, "in which uncle Richard was shipwrecked twenty or thirty years ago." Believe me, all these dangers are imaginary. This Chesapeake Bay is a very calm, pleasant sheet of water, which may have its storms sometimes; but, sheltered from the full force of the ocean by what is called the eastern shore, has no terrors after passing the Atlantic. I have not even a single adventure to tell. Everything passed with provoking tranquillity; and I must needs eke out my letter by any little observations, borrowed from my journal, which I fancy may amuse you. I think I told you that I had engaged a passage to Norfolk in the schooner Mary Anne. I believe half the ships in the world are called "Mary Anne;" and, doubtless, it is a very safe sort of name. There is nothing to be said against it; and, indeed, my skipper assured me that he had never known a vessel of that name to be lost. However, if odours produce sympathies, the Mary Anne would soon find her way down amongst the fishes; for a more potent smell of herring never assailed my nose than when I entered the said vessel. I had not been on board previous to the hour of sailing, having taken my passage through our agent; and, certainly, I was somewhat disappointed at the accommodation presented, which had been previously depicted in very glowing colours, but proved somewhat cramped, and in no degree savoury. Always take a steam-boat when you can, my dear sister--for a short life and a merry one, is a good axiom at sea; and although steamers may rattle, and smoke, and shake, they generally carry you to your destination sooner, more pleasantly, and more safely too, than a sailing vessel. Well--we started from our wharf about half-past two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon; and I remained upon deck to take a last look at Baltimore, which I quitted with some regret. It is a smaller city than New York, but cleaner, neater, and, I should think, more healthy. Besides, I had met some very pleasant and kind people there; and civilities which would not affect one much in one's own country, touch one in a foreign land. When ties and old affections are left behind, courtesies and civilities are the best substitutes. The wind was quite favourable, the master assured me; and there was just enough of it to ripple the water, and make the ship go quietly on, without producing any rebellion of stomach or refractoriness of legs. I remained upon deck till it was quite dark, and more than one little star looked out with eager, twinkling eyes, as if it feared it should not have time enough to behold its own image in the waters before the sun rose and sent it to bed again. I then went below, and found the little cabin, round which our berths were placed, already tenanted by two gentlemen, who had never appeared upon the deck since I first reached it, and who were consuming time and brandy and water very nearly in silence. Whether they had been thus employed for the preceding six or seven hours, I know not; and how much of the spirit they had drunk it was impossible to discover, for they certainly were not tipsy, and the brandy itself was entombed in a vast bottle, called here a demijohn, so curiously concealed in wickerwork, that it is impossible for the keenest eyes to discover whether it is full or empty. Both were well dressed men, but very different in appearance from each other. I must venture upon some description, my dear sister, as our ideas of the Yankee race in England are very unlike the realities which we see before us in this country. I remember hearing a wealthy, respectable, foolish, ignorant woman, of a class such as frequently forces its way into society with us at home, deliberately ask an American, whom she knew to be such, whether all the natives of America were salmon-coloured. She had, doubtless, heard of red Indians; and, I suppose, with that brilliant confusion of ideas which trouble the brains of some ladies, had confounded our brethren on this side of the Atlantic, with the aborigines of the country. However, my two companions on the present occasion, though one was not of American or Anglo-Saxon race, had nothing of the Indian about them. One was a thin, spare, but well-formed man, about three and thirty years of age, who, from dress or appearance altogether, no one would have distinguished from an Englishman, had it not been for a certain jaunty, well satisfied, self-reliant air not altogether consistent with our staid and more sober character of thought. His face was by no means handsome, God knows. His eyes were somewhat protuberant, round, and sparkling; his nose was short, thickish, and a little tinged with red, which might have some affinity with the contents of the demijohn I have just mentioned. His upper lip was shaded by a thick, Austrian-cut moustache; his chin was prominent and decided; but his forehead was bold, high, and towering, and by far the finest feature of his face. The other seemed rather overdressed--certainly over dressed for a sea-voyage; but his face was actually much handsomer than that of his companion, and presented the peculiar character which marks, in almost every instance, Jewish descent; for he had large, almond shaped, dark eyes, an aquiline nose, a delicate mouth and chin, and a profusion of glossy black hair, floating in small, light curls about his head. His complexion was warm, but delicate; and, altogether, he was a very handsome man. But he wanted that air of Oriental calmness and dignity which you and I have often remarked in many members of his race. This I attribute greatly to the profession which I afterwards found he followed; the debasing tendencies of which I can conceive no man's spirit resisting. He had three diamond rings on one finger, and a large brilliant in the frill of his shirt; and, indeed, it seemed to me there was no part of his person on which he could stick such an ornament, that was not garnished by some precious stone. It was quite clear that no great cordiality existed between these two tenants of the cabin, although they were drinking out of the same demijohn, if not out of the same cup. As soon as I entered, the last-mentioned passenger asked me, in Virginian parlance, "to take a drink." I have learnt the habits of the country sufficiently to know that it is discourteous to refuse; and I was immediately provided with a tumbler and cold water, to which I added some of the brandy. When I had sipped a small quantity of the mixture, the first passenger I have mentioned broke out in a short, quick, merry laugh, and observed, in a quaint tone, that the skipper had failed to provide us with mint--a usual accessory to brandy and water in this country. With him I soon got into conversation, and found him a well read, liberally educated man of the world, with very free notions upon a great number of subjects, a taste for the arts, and a tolerable store of Greek and Latin. The other was more difficult to engage, and indeed the task seemed hopeless for some time; till, at length, the master of the vessel joined us, and then I found out that our friend with the diamond rings had points upon which he was accessible also. After helping himself pretty liberally to the brandy and water, the captain looked with a shrewd, good-humoured smile in the face of the over-dressed gentleman, saying-- ......Buy Now (To Read More)

Product details

Ebook Number: 49472
Author: James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Release Date: Jul 18, 2015
Format: eBook
Language: English