to them as to us, "Eat, drink, in remembrance of Me."
The clerk introduced them all to the clergyman, saying, "Diana and Cæsar, estate Diamond and Ruby"; "Clio and Manuel, estate Mon Bijou," before they took the cup. This was necessary, as Mr. Hawley could not remember them all.
That was the only thing which remained to remind one that they had so recently been chattels.
It was a long service, that of Christmas-day, for at eleven o'clock arrived the planters and their families, many of whom kindly called on us afterwards at the rectory. Among those was Mr. Randolph, an Englishman, who asked us to dine with him at Mon Bijou, his pretty place seven miles away. My husband went off with him to call on the governor and some of the other dignitaries, and on old Judge Feddersen, who held the fort for Anna Maria Sparks in the Captain Folsom case.
I was very glad to retreat to the mosquito-net and the one linen sheet and to fan myself into a siesta. I rose at seven reluctantly to dress, and at eight o'clock we drove to Mrs. Abbot's, where we found a large party. Mrs. Abbot was a lady of high degree; her manners had the majesty of a past age. Councillor Feddustal, a very distinguished person, stood near her. The governor and his wife, evidently people of the world; Miss Sigenbrod, Misses Stridiron, Miss Feddersen, Danish beauties; Miss Abbot, a gentle blonde, and some fine-looking old gentlemen in uniforms, made up a distinguished party of twenty-four people.
There seemed to be a white-haired negro behind each chair. The long table was illuminated with wax-candles in tall glass globes which defended their flickering light from the insects and from draughts. The table was