Memoirs of an American Lady: With Sketches of Manners and Scenery in America, as They Existed Previous to the RevolutionGrant, Anne MacVicar
History
Memoirs of an American Lady: With Sketches of Manners and Scenery in America, as They Existed Previous to the Revolution
Grant, Anne MacVicar
Indians of North America; New York (State) -- Social life and customs -- To 1775; Schuyler, Catalina, 1701-1778 or 1779
The ordinary plants of that country differ very much from those most
frequent here; and this thirst for herbalizing, for I must dignify my
humble researches with the name of botanical ones,) was a pleasing
occupation. I made some progress in discovering the names and natures of
these plants, I mean their properties; but unfortunately they were only
Indian or Dutch names. This kind of knowledge, in that degree, is easily
acquired there, because every one possesses it in some measure. Nothing
surprised me so much, when I came to Britain, as to see young people so
incurious about nature.
The woods behind our dwelling had been thinned to procure firing, and
were more open and accessible than such places generally are. Walking
one fine summer’s evening, with my usual attendant, a little further
into the wood than usual, but far from any known inhabitant, I heard
peals of laughter, not joyous only, but triumphant, issue from the
bottom, as it seemed, of a large pine. Silence succeeded, and we looked
at each other with a mixture of fear and wonder, for it grew darkish. At
last we made a whispered agreement to glide nearer among the bushes, and
explore the source of all this merriment. Twilight, solemn every where,
is awful in these forests; our awe was presently increased by the
appearance of a light that glimmered and disappeared by turns. Loud
laughter was again reiterated, and at length a voice cried, “How pretty
he is!” while another answered in softer accents, “See how the dear
creature runs!” We crept on, cheered by these sounds, and saw a handsome
good natured looking man, in a ragged provincial uniform, sitting on the
stump of a tree. Opposite, on the ground, sat a pretty little brunette
woman, neatly, though meanly clad, with sparkling black eyes, and a
countenance all vivacity and delight. A very little, very fair boy, with
his mother’s brilliant black eyes contrasting his flaxen hair, and soft
infantine complexion, went with tottering steps, that showed this was
his first essay, from one to the other, and loud laughter gratulated his
safe arrival in the arms of either parent. We had now pretty clearly
ascertained the family, the next thing was to discover the house; this
point was more difficult to establish; at last, we found it was barely a
place to sleep in, partly excavated from the ground, and partly covered
with a slight roof of bark and branches: never was poverty so complete
or so cheerful. In that country, every white person had inferiors, and
therefore being merely white, claimed a degree of respect, and being
very rich, or very fine, entitled you to very little more. Simplicity
would be a charming thing, if one could strain it from grossness, but
that, I believe, is no easy operation. We now with much consideration
and civility, presented ourselves; I thought the cows would afford a
happy opening for conversation. “Don’t be afraid of noise, we are
driving our three cows home; have you any cows?” “Och no, my dare child,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account