The feudal spirit, revived in a softer world and under brighter
skies, gave to those who participated in it the same graces and
somewhat the same capacities which it gave to the knightly class
in the days of Roland--courage, frankness, generosity, ability in
affairs, a sense of responsibility, the consciousness of caste.
The mode of life which the planters enjoyed and which the
inferior whites regarded as a social paradise was a life of
complete deliverance from toil, of disinterested participation in
local government, of absolute personal freedom--a life in which
the mechanical action of law was less important than the more
human compulsion of social opinion, and in which private
differences were settled under the code of honor.

This Southern life was carried on in the most appropriate
environment. On a landed estate, often larger than many of
Europe's baronies, stood the great house of the planter, usually
a graceful example of colonial architecture, surrounded by
stately gardens. This mansion was the center of a boundless
hospitality; guests were always coming and going; the hostess and
her daughters were the very symbols of kindliness and ease. To
think of such houses was to think of innumerable joyous days; of
gentlemen galloping across country after the hounds; of coaches
lumbering along avenues of noble oaks, bringing handsome women to
visit the mansion; of great feastings; of nights of music and
dancing; above all, of the great festival of Christmas,
celebrated much as had been the custom in "Merrie England"
centuries before.

Below the surface of this bright world lay the enslaved black
race. In the minds of many Southerners--it was always a secret