CHAPTER II
Unlucky in love—The home a Louisiana aristocrat—Hospitality and lengthy visits—The sugar-house—Appointed a midshipman—The only Southern man who could not whip ten Yankees—Religious mania—Fortress Monroe—Mexican pulque.
I HAD other pleasures besides chasing wild horses. I used to delight in going to beautiful Lynwood, the plantation of General Carter in the parish of East Feliciana, and some twenty miles from Baton Rouge. Howell Carter, one of the general's sons, was near my own age and we were great friends, and Howell had a beautiful sister whom I adored: the fact that she was a young lady in society made no difference to me. She acknowledged that I was her sweetheart and it was heaven for me to stand by the piano while she sang for me; and besides, my favorite brother, Gibbes, some ten years my senior, approved of my choice and complimented my good taste. One day Gibbes and Lydia Carter got married and it took me a long time to recover from the effects of their treachery. Gibbes was the last man I would have suspected of being my rival.
I also used to spend a great deal of time at the Hope Estate Plantation, about four miles below Baton Rouge. Colonel Philip Hicky, its owner, was the most elegant and the grandest old gentleman I ever knew. He was a man of great wealth and unbounded hospitality. He was tall, slim, and straight, and his manner was most courtly. His welcome to a guest, whether self-invited or not, made the recipient feel very much at home as well as good all over. He was a patriarch of the olden time and lived with his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren around him. The old plantation house seemed to be made of india rubber. There was always room for a few more. I have sat at his table when with his family and guests more than thirty
