With Lee in Virginia | Page 6

by them, as almost
part of the family. There was, of course, less connection between the
planters and their field hands; but these also had for the most part been
born on the estate, had as children been taught to look up to their white
masters and mistresses, and to receive many little kindnesses at their
hands.
They had been cared for in sickness, and knew that they would be
provided for in old age. Each had his little allotment, and could raise
fruit, vegetables, and fowls for his own use or for sale in his leisure
time. The fear of loss of employment or the pressure of want, ever
present to English laborers, had never fallen upon them. The climate

was a lovely one, and their work far less severe than that of men forced
to toil in cold and wet, winter and summer. The institution of slavery
assuredly was capable of terrible abuses, and was marked in many
instances by abominable cruelty and oppression; but taken all in all, the
negroes on a well-ordered estate, under kind masters, were probably a
happier class of people than the laborers upon any estate in Europe.
Jonas Pearson had been overseer in the time of Major Wingfield, but
his authority had at that time been comparatively small, for the major
himself personally supervised the whole working of the estate, and was
greatly liked by the slaves, whose chief affections were, however,
naturally bestowed upon their mistress, who had from childhood been
brought up in their midst. Major Wingfield had not liked his overseer,
but he had never had any ground to justify him making a change. Jonas,
who was a Northern man, was always active and energetic; all Major
Wingfield's orders were strictly and punctually carried out, and
although he disliked the man, his employer acknowledged him to be an
excellent servant.
After the major's death, Jonas Pearson had naturally obtained greatly
increased power and authority. Mrs. Wingfield had great confidence in
him, his accounts were always clear and precise, and although the
profits of the estate were not quite so large as they had been in her
husband's lifetime, this was always satisfactorily explained by a fall in
prices, or by a part of the crops being affected by the weather. She
flattered herself that she herself managed the estate, and at times rode
over it, made suggestions, and issued orders, but this was only in fits
and starts; and although Jonas came up two or three times a week to the
house nominally to receive her orders, he managed her so adroitly that
while she believed that everything was done by her directions, she in
reality only followed out the suggestions which, in the first place, came
from him.
She was aware, however, that there was less content and happiness on
the estate than there had been in the old times. Complaints had reached
her from time to time of overwork and harsh treatment. But upon
inquiring into these matters, Jonas had always such plausible reasons to

give that she was convinced he was in the right, and that the fault was
among the slaves themselves, who tried to take advantage of the fact
that they had no longer a master's eye upon them, and accordingly tried
to shirk work, and to throw discredit upon the man who looked after the
interests of their mistress; and so gradually Mrs. Wingfield left the
management of affairs more and more in the hands of Jonas, and relied
more implicitly upon him.
The overseer spared no pains to gain the good-will of Vincent. When
the latter declared that the horse he rode had not sufficient life and
spirit for him, Jonas had set inquiries on foot, and had selected for him
a horse which, for speed and bottom, had no superior in the State. One
of Mrs. Wingfield's acquaintances, however, upon hearing that she had
purchased the animal, told her that it was notorious for its vicious
temper, and she spoke angrily to Jonas on the subject in the presence of
Vincent. The overseer excused himself by saying that he had certainly
heard that the horse was high spirited and needed a good rider, and that
he should not have thought of selecting it had he not known that Mr.
Vincent was a first-class rider, and would not care to have a horse that
any child could manage.
The praise was not undeserved. The gentlemen of Virginia were
celebrated as good riders; and Major Wingfield, himself a cavalry man,
had been anxious that Vincent should maintain the credit of his English
blood, and had placed him on a pony as soon as he was able to sit on
one. A pony had been kept for his use during his holidays at his uncle's
in