ding of a woman's heart. Cheeseman was
not hanged, however; but he died in prison, and the circumstances were
thought mysterious, so that Berkeley was not held guiltless of the
death.
In the narrated incidents we can find a point of contrast between the
female cultures of the North and the South. We can well imagine a
Puritan wife addressing a dignitary as Mrs. Cheeseman addressed Governor
Berkeley; but it is impossible to fancy Puritan women in the situation
in which those "white gardes of the Divell" found themselves. The former
would never have submitted to the degradation; they would not, for their
lives, have so hampered the hands of their husbands. It was not the
pioneer woman of a new continent who stood upon those ramparts and made
their own breasts the shields of their enemies, but the delicately
reared and nurtured woman of a pampered class. Yet that there was good
courage among these fine ladies is shown, if showing were necessary, in
the example of Mrs. Cheeseman; but it was not universal as among the
women of the Puritans, though both its presence and absence formed but a
general rule to which there were many and important exceptions.
With all their divergences and differences, however, there was between
the North and South one point of contact which was typical, racial, and
individual, and which in its persistence grew to be national. It was of
course a continuation of Anglo-Saxon tradition, applied to new
circumstances which made it but the more powerful in influence; but it
was a tradition which was to be potent in the formation of the American
spirit. This was the home. For the home, as we know it, is almost, if
not entirely, uniquely American and English. There may be entered a
saving clause concerning the Teutonic nations, but it would not impeach
the full integrity of the statement. Only in the Anglo-Saxon races has
the home possessed the peculiar sanctity which it holds in this day
among those same peoples; and in America this has been distinctively the
case. For a race of pioneers, which builds in the desert its own
continuing cities, sees in its edifices, however humble at first,
something which is not evident to the inhabiter of ancient cities. The
dweller in the wilderness gazes with a peculiar affection upon the
little tract which he has reclaimed; and the cottage or even hut, with
its humble household gods and goods, takes in his eyes a strange and
extrinsic value because of that which they
|