or the benefit of the public, and the Charleston journal which
printed it found its copies exhausted by the demand.[11] An example of more
common episodes appears in a letter from William Dawson, a Potomac planter,
to Robert Carter of Nomoni Hall, asking that "Brother Tom," Carter's
coachman, be sent to see a sick child in his quarter. Dawson continued:
"The black people at this place hath more faith in him as a doctor than any
white doctor; and as I wrote you in a former letter I cannot expect you to
lose your man's time, etc., for nothing, but am quite willing to pay for
same."[12]

[Footnote 10: J.H. Russell, _The Free Negro in Virginia_ (Baltimore, 1913),
p. 53, note.]

[Footnote 11: _South Carolina Gazette_, Feb. 25, 1751.]

[Footnote 12: MS. in the Carter papers, Virginia Historical Society.]

Each plantation had a double head in the master and the mistress. The
latter, mother of a romping brood of her own and over-mother of the
pickaninny throng, was the chatelaine of the whole establishment. Working
with a never flagging constancy, she carried the indoor keys, directed the
household routine and the various domestic industries, served as head nurse
for the sick, and taught morals and religion by precept and example.
Her hours were long, her diversions few, her voice quiet, her influence
firm.[13] Her presence made the plantation a home; her absence would have
made it a factory. The master's concern was mainly with the able-bodied in
the routine of the crops. He laid the plans, guessed the weather, ordered
the work, and saw to its performance. He was out early and in late,
directing, teaching, encouraging, and on occasion punishing. Yet he found
time for going to town and for visits here and there, time for politics,
and time for sports. If his duty as he saw it was sometimes grim, and
his disappointments keen, hearty diversions were at hand to restore his
equanimity. His horn hung near and his hounds made quick response on
Reynard's trail, and his neighbors were ready to accept his invitations and
give theirs lavishly in return, whether to their houses or to their fields.
When their absences from home were long, as they might well be in the
public service, they were not unlikely upon return to meet such a reception
as Henry Laurens described: "I found nobody there but three of our old
domestics--Stepney, Exeter and big Hagar. These drew tears from me by their
humble and affectionate salutes. My knees were clasp