Vineville, Nov. 4, '64.
My dear Mrs. Mackall:
My maid Amanda, on a visit yesterday to your servants,
learned that preparations were being made by the young ladies for a large party
to be given, as she was informed, by me. Imagine my amazement, when I tell you
that though always glad to do anything for the enjoyment of young people, I was
wholly innocent of any such purpose on this occasion. I fear they have been
made victims of one of those silly, stupid, practical jokes, in which I never
could see any amusement! I do not envy the person whoever he be, who can enjoy
the disappointment of two such charming creatures as the “Fair Rose of Texas”
and “the Nymph of the Alabama” in the realization of fancied triumphs of
dazzling glances, and bewitching smiles, dreams of delicious tête-a-têtes, divine
galops and ecstatic waltzes — ambrosial gumbo. (?) They have my
heartfelt sympathy. Amanda tells me too, that all day long they were pent up,
up stairs, patient martyrs to “crimps,” (Mr. Toby can't bear me in “crimps” — says
I look like the head of Medusa — horrid man!) — that the entire toilette was
arranged. Just think of the crimson silk and the sycamore balls — the killing
lavender!
I cannot
close without expressing my contempt for the person who so cruelly and
maliciously amused himself at their expense. It can be no other than a young
man, one of those unappreciative, indifferent, ungallant, 'frisky'
creatures of these degenerate days. I am sure that that highly chivalrous
gentleman, Capt. Mackall, will become perfectly furious at this disclosure of
the plot, and will not be pacified, swearing vengeance on the author! Woe be to
him! if caught. I am too angry to write more. The sad thought of “how it might
have been!”
Yours truly,
Toby? or not Toby?
That is the question.
P. S.
Tell the young ladies to be sure and bring Capt. Mackall to
see me. I hear he is “coming out.”
T. B.
SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in
’61, p. 198-200
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