CHAPTER XXX.
"_Lid._--The victory is yours, sir."
"_King._--It is a glorious one, and well sets off Our scene of mercy; to the dead we tender Our sorrow; to the living, ample wishes Of future happiness."--BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Fatigue kept me in bed next morning until it was late. On quitting thehouse I passed through the gateway, then always left open--defence beingno longer thought of--and walked musingly toward the grave ofChainbearer. Previously to doing this, I went as far as each corner ofthe building, however, to cast an eye over the fields. On one side ofthe house I saw my father and mother, arm in arm, gazing around them;while on the other, aunt Mary stood by herself, looking wistfully in thedirection of a wooded ravine, which had been the scene of some importantevent in the early history of the country. When she turned to re-enterthe building, I found her face bathed in tears. This respectable woman,who was now well turned of forty, had lost her betrothed in battle, onthat very spot, a quarter of a century before, and was now gazing on thesad scene for the first time since the occurrence of the event.
Something almost as interesting, though not of so sad a nature, alsodrew my parents to the other side of the house. When I joined them, anexpression of grateful happiness, a little saddened perhaps byincidental recollections, was on the countenance of each. My dear motherkissed me affectionately as I drew near, and the general cordially gaveme his hand while wishing me good morning.
"We were talking of you," observed the last, "at the very moment youappeared. Ravensnest is now becoming a valuable property; and itsincome, added to the products of this large and very excellent farm thatyou have in your own hands, should keep a country house, not only inabundance, but with something more. You will naturally think of marryingere long, and your mother and I were just saying that you ought to builda good, substantial stone dwelling on this very spot, and settle down onyour own property. Nothing contributes so much to the civilization of acountry, as to dot it with a gentry, and you will both give and receiveadvantages by adopting such a course. It is impossible for those whohave never been witnesses of the result, to appreciate the effectproduced by one gentleman's family in a neighborhood, in the way ofmanners, tastes, general intelligence, and civilization at large."
"I am very willing to do my duty, sir, in this, as in other particulars;but a good stone country house, such as a landlord ought to build on hisproperty, will cost money, and I have no sum in hand to use for such apurpose."
"The house will cost far less than you suppose. Materials are cheap, andso is labor just now. Your mother and myself will manage to let you havea few extra thousands, for our town property is beginning to tell again,and fear nothing on that score. Make your selection of a spot, and laythe foundation of the house this autumn; order the lumber sawed, thelime burned, and other preparations made--and arrange matters so thatyou can eat your Christmas dinner, in the year 1785, in the newresidence of Ravensnest. By that time you will be ready to get married,and we may all come up to the house-warming."
"Has anything occurred in particular, sir, to induce you to imagine I amin any haste to marry? You seem to couple matrimony and the new housetogether, in a way to make me think there has."
I caught the general there, and, while my mother turned her head asideand smiled, I saw that my father colored a little, though he made out tolaugh. After a moment of embarrassment, however, he answered withspirit--my good, old grandmother coming up and linking her arm at hisvacant side as he did so.
"Why, Mord, my boy, you can have very little of the sensibility of theLittlepages in you," he said, "if you can be a daily spectator of suchfemale loveliness as is now near you, and not lose your heart."
Grandmother fidgeted, and so did my mother; for I could see that boththought the general had made too bold a demonstration. With the tact oftheir sex, they would have been more on their guard. I reflected amoment, and then determined to be frank; the present being as good atime as any other, to reveal my secret.
"I do not intend to be insincere with you, my dear sir," I answered,"for I know how much better it is to be open on matters that are of acommon interest in a family, than to affect mysteriousness. I am a trueLittlepage on the score of sensibility to the charms of the sex, andhave not lived in daily familiar intercourse with female loveliness,without experiencing so much of its influence as to be a warm advocatefor matrimony. It is my wish to marry, and that, too, before this newabode of Ravensnest can be completed."
The common exclamation of delight that followed this declamation,sounded in my ears like a knell, for I knew it must be succeeded by adisappointment exactly proportioned to the present hopes. But I had gonetoo far to retreat, and felt bound to explain myself.
"I'm afraid, my dear parents, and my beloved grandmother," I continued,as soon as I could speak, conscious of the necessity of being as promptas possible, "that you have misunderstood me."
"Not at all, my dear boy--not at all," interrupted my father. "Youadmire Priscilla Bayard, but have not yet so far presumed on yourreception as to offer. But what of that? Your modesty is in your favor;though I will acknowledge that, in my judgment, a gentleman is bound tolet his mistress know, as soon as his own mind is made up, that he is asuitor for her hand, and that it is ungenerous and unmanly to wait untilcertain of success. Remember that, Mordaunt, my boy; modesty may becarried to a fault in a matter of this sort."
"You still misunderstand me, sir. I have nothing to reproach myself withon the score of manliness, though I may have gone too far in another waywithout consulting my friends. Beyond sincere good-will and friendship,Priscilla Bayard is nothing to me, and I am nothing to PriscillaBayard."
"Mordaunt!" exclaimed a voice, that I never heard without its excitingfilial tenderness.
"I have said but truth, dearest mother, and truth that ought to havebeen sooner said. Miss Bayard would refuse me to-morrow, were I tooffer."
"You don't know that, Mordaunt--you _can't_ know it until you try,"interrupted my grandmother, somewhat eagerly. "The minds of young womenare not to be judged by the same rules as those of young men. Such anoffer will not come every day, I can tell her; and she's much toodiscreet and right-judging to do anything so silly. To be sure, I haveno authority to say how Priscilla feels toward you; but, if her heart isher own, and Mordy Littlepage be not the youth that has stolen it, I amno judge of my own sex."
"But, you forget, dearest grandmother, that were your flatteringopinions in my behalf all true--as I have good reason to believe theyare not--but were they true, I could only regret it should be so; for Ilove another."
This time the sensation was so profound as to produce a common silence.Just at that moment an interruption occurred, of a nature both so sweetand singular, as greatly to relieve me at least, and to preclude thenecessity of my giving any immediate account of my meaning. I willexplain how it occurred.
The reader may remember that there were, originally, loops in theexterior walls of the house at Ravensnest, placed there for the purposesof defence, and which were used as small windows in these peaceabletimes. We were standing beneath one of those loops, not near enough,however, to be seen or heard by one at the loop, unless we raised ourvoices above the tone in which we were actually conversing. Out of thisloop, at that precise instant, issued the low, sweet strains of one ofDus's exquisite Indian hymns, I might almost call them, set, as wasusual with her, to a plaintive Scotch melody. On looking toward thegrave of Chainbearer, I saw Susquesus standing over it, and I at onceunderstood the impulse which led Ursula to sing this song. The words hadbeen explained to me, and I knew that they alluded to a warrior's grave.
The raised finger, the delighted expression of the eye, the attitude ofintense listening which my beloved mother assumed, each and all denotedthe pleasure and emotion she experienced. When, however, the singersuddenly changed the language to English, after the last guttural wordsof the Onondago had died on our ears, and commenced to the same strain a
solemn English hymn, that was short in itself, but full of piety andhope, the tears started out of my mother's and grandmother's eyes, andeven General Littlepage sought an occasion to blow his nose in a verysuspicious manner. Presently, the sounds died away, and that exquisitemelody ceased.
"In the name of wonder, Mordaunt, who can this nightingale be?" demandedmy father, for neither of the ladies could speak.
"_That_ is the person, sir, who has my plighted faith--the woman I mustmarry or remain single."
"This, then, must be the Dus Malbone, or Ursula Malbone, of whom I haveheard so much from Priscilla Bayard, within the last day or two," saidmy mother, in the tone and with the manner of one who is suddenlyenlightened on any subject that has much interest with him, or her; "Iought to have expected something of the sort, if half the praises ofPriscilla be true."
No one had a better mother than myself. Thoroughly a lady in all thatpertains to the character, she was also an humble and pious Christian.Nevertheless, humility and piety are, in some respects, particularly thefirst, matters of convention. The fitness of things had great merit inthe eyes of both my parents, and I cannot say that it is entirelywithout it in mine. In nothing is this fitness of things moreappropriate than in equalizing marriages; and few things are less likelyto be overlooked by a discreet parent, than to have all proper care thatthe child connects itself prudently; and that, too, as much in referenceto station, habits, opinions, breeding in particular, and the generalway of thinking, as to fortune. Principles are inferred among people ofprinciple, as a matter of course; but subordinate to these, worldlyposition is ever of great importance in the eyes of parents. My parentscould not be very different from those of other people, and I could seethat both now thought that Ursula Malbone, the Chainbearer's niece, onewho had actually carried chain herself, for I had lightly mentioned thatcircumstance in one of my letters, was scarcely a suitable match for theonly son of General Littlepage. Neither said much, however; though myfather did put one or two questions that were somewhat to the point, erewe separated.
"Am I to understand, Mordaunt," he asked, with a little of the gravity aparent might be expected to exhibit on hearing so unpleasant anannouncement--"Am I to understand, Mordaunt, that you are actuallyengaged to this young--eh-eh-eh--this young person?"
"Do not hesitate, my dear sir, to call Ursula Malbone a lady. She is alady by both birth and education. The last, most certainly, or she nevercould have stood in the relation she does to your family."
"And what relation is that, sir?"
"It is just this, my dear father. I have offered toUrsula--indiscreetly, hastily if you will, as I ought to have waited toconsult you and my mother--but we do not always follow the dictates ofpropriety in a matter of so much feeling. I dare say, sir, you didbetter"--here I saw a slight smile on the pretty mouth of my mother, andI began to suspect that the general had been no more dutiful than myselfin this particular--"but I hope my forgetfulness will be excused, onaccount of the influence of a passion which we all find so hard toresist."
"But what is the relation this young--lady--bears to my family,Mordaunt? You are not already married?"
"Far from it, sir; I should not so far have failed in respect to youthree--or even to Anneke and Katrinke. I have _offered_, and have beenconditionally accepted."
"Which condition is----"
"The consent of you three; the perfect approbation of my whole nearconnection. I believe that Dus, _dear_ Dus, does love me, and that shewould cheerfully give me her hand, were she certain of its beingagreeable to you, but that no persuasion of mine will ever induce her soto do under other circumstances."
"This is something, for it shows the girl has principle," answered myfather "Why, who goes there?"
"Who went there?" sure enough. There went Frank Malbone and PriscillaBayard, arm in arm, and so engrossed in conversation that they did notsee who were observing them. I dare say they fancied they were in thewoods, quite sheltered from curious eyes, and at liberty to saunterabout, as much occupied with each other as they pleased; or, what ismore probable, that they thought of nothing, just then, but ofthemselves. They came out of the court, and walked off swiftly into theorchard, appearing to tread on air, and seemingly as happy as the birdsthat were carolling on the surrounding trees.
"There, sir," I said, significantly--"There, my dear mother, is theproof that Miss Priscilla Bayard will not break her heart on myaccount."
"This is very extraordinary, indeed!" exclaimed my much disappointedgrandmother--"Is not that the young man who we were told acted asChainbearer's surveyor, Corny?"
"It is, my good mother, and a very proper and agreeable youth he is, asI know by a conversation held with him last night. It is very plain wehave all been mistaken"--added the general; "though I do not know thatwe ought to say that we have any of us been deceived."
"Here comes Kate, with a face which announces that she is fully mistressof the secret," I put in, perceiving my sister coming round our angle ofthe building, with a countenance which I knew betokened that her mindand heart were full. She joined us, took my arm without speaking, andfollowed my father, who led his wife and mother to a rude bench that hadbeen placed at the foot of a tree, where we all took seats, each waitingfor some other to speak. My grandmother broke the silence.
"Do you see Pris Bayard yonder, walking with that Mr. Frank Chainbearer,or Surveyor, or whatever his name is, Katrinke dear?" asked the good_old_ lady.
"I do, grandmamma," answered the good _young_ lady in a voice so pitchedas to be hardly audible.
"And can you explain what it means, darling?"
"I believe I can, ma'am--if--if--Mordaunt wishes to hear."
"Don't mind me, Kate," returned I, smiling--"My heart will never bebroken by Miss Priscilla Bayard."
The look of sisterly solicitude that I received from that honest-heartedgirl ought to have made me feel very grateful; and it did make me feelgrateful, for a sister's affection is a sweet thing. I believe thecalmness of my countenance and its smiling expression encouraged thedear creature, for she now began to tell her story as fast as was at allin rule.
"The meaning, then, is this," said Kate. "That gentleman is Mr. FrancisMalbone, and he is the engaged suitor of Priscilla. I have had all thefacts from her own mouth."
"Will you, then, let us hear as many of them as it is proper we shouldknow?" said the general, gravely.
"There is no wish on the part of Priscilla to conceal anything. She hasknown Mr. Malbone several years, and they have been attached all thattime. Nothing impeded the affair but his poverty. Old Mr. Bayardobjected to that, of course, you know, as fathers will, and Priscillawould not engage herself. But--do you not remember to have heard of thedeath of an old Mrs. Hazleton, at Bath, in England, this summer, mamma?The Bayards are in half-mourning for her now."
"Certainly, my dear--Mrs. Hazleton was Mr. Bayard's aunt. I knew herwell once, before she became a refugee--her husband was a half-payColonel Hazleton of the royal artillery, and they were tories of course.The aunt was named Priscilla, and was godmother to our Pris."
"Just so--well, this lady has left Pris ten thousand pounds in theEnglish funds, and the Bayards now consent to her marrying Mr. Malbone.They say, too, but I don't think _that_ can have had any influence, forMr. Bayard and his wife are particularly disinterested people, as indeedare all the family"--added Kate, hesitatingly and looking down; "butthey _say_ that the death of some young man will probably leave Mr.Malbone the heir of an aged cousin of his late father's."
"And now, my dear father and mother, you will perceive that Miss Bayardwill not break her heart because I happen to love Dus Malbone. I see byyour look, Katrinke, that you have had some hint of this backslidingalso."
"I have; and what is more, I have seen the young lady, and can hardlywonder at it. Anneke and I have been passing two hours with her thismorning; and since you cannot get Pris, I know no other, Mordaunt, whowill so thoroughly supply her place. Anneke is in love with her also!"
Dear, good, so
ber-minded, judicious Anneke; she had penetrated into thetrue character of Dus, in a single interview; a circumstance that Iascribed to the impression left by the recent death of Chainbearer.Ordinarily, that spirited young woman would not have permitted asufficiently near approach in a first interview, to permit a discoveryof so many of her sterling qualities, but now her heart was softened,and her spirit so much subdued, one of Anneke's habitual gentlenesswould be very apt to win on her sympathies, and draw the two close toeach other. The reader is not to suppose that Dus had opened her mindlike a vulgar school-girl, and made my sister a confidant of therelation in which she and I stood to one another. She had not said, orhinted, a syllable on the subject. The information Kate possessed hadcome from Priscilla Bayard, who obtained it from Frank, as a matter ofcourse; and my sister subsequently admitted to me that her friend'shappiness was augmented by the knowledge that I should not be a suffererby her earlier preference for Malbone, and that she was likely to haveme for a brother-in-law. All this I gleaned from Kate, in our subsequentconferences.
"This is extraordinary!" exclaimed the general--"very extraordinary; andto me quite unexpected."
"We can have no right to control Miss Bayard's choice," observed mydiscreet and high-principled mother. "She is her own mistress, so far as_we_ are concerned; and if her own parents approve of her choice, theless we say about it the better. As respects this connection ofMordaunt's, I hope he himself will admit of our right to have opinions."
"Perfectly so, my dearest mother. All I ask of you is, to express noopinion, however, until you have seen Ursula--have become acquaintedwith her, and are qualified to judge of her fitness to be not only mine,but any man's wife. I ask but this of your justice."
"It is just; and I shall act on the suggestion," observed my father."You _have_ a right to demand this of us, Mordaunt, and I can promisefor your mother, as well as myself."
"After all, Anneke," put in grandmother, "I am not sure we have no rightto complain of Miss Bayard's conduct toward us. Had she dropped theremotest hint of her being engaged to this Malbone, I would never haveendeavored to lead my grandson to think of her seriously for onemoment."
"Your grandson never _has_ thought of her seriously for one moment, orfor half a moment, dearest grandmother," I cried, "so give your mind noconcern on that subject. Nothing of the sort could make me happier thanto know that Priscilla Bayard is to marry Frank Malbone; unless it wereto be certain I am myself to marry the latter's half-sister."
"How can this be?--How could such a thing possibly come to pass, mychild! I do not remember ever to have _heard_ of this person--much lessto have spoken to you on the subject of such a connection."
"Oh! dearest grandmother, we truant children sometimes get conceits ofthis nature into our heads and hearts, without stopping to consult ourrelatives, as we ought to do."
But it is useless to repeat all that was said in the long and desultoryconversation that followed. I had no reason to be dissatisfied with myparents, who ever manifested toward me not only great discretion, butgreat indulgence. I confess, when a domestic came to say that Miss Duswas at the breakfast-table, waiting for us alone, I trembled a littlefor the effect that might be produced on her appearance by the scenesshe had lately gone through. She had wept a great deal in the course ofthe last week; and when I last saw her, which was the glimpse caught atthe funeral, she was pale and dejected in aspect. A lover is so jealousof even the impression that his mistress will make on those he wishes toadmire her, that I felt particularly uncomfortable as we entered firstthe court, then the house, and last the eating-room.
A spacious and ample board had been spread for the accommodation of ourlarge party. Anneke, Priscilla, Frank Malbone, aunt Mary, and Ursula,were already seated when we entered, Dus occupying the head of thetable. No one had commenced the meal, nor had the young mistress of theboard even begun to pour out the tea and coffee (for my presence hadbrought abundance into the house), but there she sat, respectfullywaiting for those to approach who might be properly considered theprincipal guests. I thought Dus had never appeared more lovely. Herdress was a neatly-arranged and tasteful half-mourning; with which hergolden hair, rosy cheeks, and bright eyes contrasted admirably. Thecheeks of Dus, too, had recovered their color, and her eyes theirbrightness. The fact was, that the news of her brother's improvedfortunes had even been better than we were just told. Frank foundletters for him at the 'Nest, announcing the death of his kinsman, witha pressing invitation to join the bereaved parent, then an aged andbed-ridden invalid, as his adopted son. He was urged to bring Dus withhim; and he received a handsome remittance to enable him so to dowithout inconvenience to himself. This alone would have broughthappiness back to the countenance of the poor and dependent. Dus mournedher uncle in sincerity, and she long continued to mourn for him; but hermourning was that of the Christian who hoped. Chainbearer's hurt hadoccurred several days before; and the first feeling of sorrow had becomelessened by time and reflection. His end had been happy; and he was nowbelieved to be enjoying the fruition of his penitence through thesacrifice of the Son of God.
It was easy to detect the surprise that appeared in the countenances ofall my parents, as Miss Malbone rose, like one who was now confident ofher position and claims to give and to receive the salutations that wereproper for the occasion. Never did any young woman acquit herself betterthan Dus, who courtesied gracefully as a queen; while she returned thecompliments she received with the self-possession of one bred in courts.To this she was largely indebted to nature, though her schooling hadbeen good. Many of the first young women of the colony had been hercompanions for years; and in that day, manner was far more attended tothan it is getting to be among us now. My mother was delighted; for, asshe afterward assured me, her mind was already made up to receive Ursulaas a daughter; since she thought it due to honor to redeem my plightedfaith. General Littlepage might not have been so very scrupulous; thougheven he admitted the right of the obligations I had incurred; but Dusfairly carried him by storm. The tempered sadness of her mien gave anexquisite finish to her beauty, rendering all she said, did, and looked,that morning, perfect. In a word, everybody was wondering; but everybodywas pleased. An hour or two later, and after the ladies had been alonetogether, my excellent grandmother came to me and desired to have alittle conversation with me apart. We found a seat in the arbor of thecourt; and my venerable parent commenced as follows:--
"Well, Mordaunt, my dear, it _is_ time that you should think of marryingand of settling in life. As Miss Bayard is happily engaged, I do not seethat you can do better than to offer to Miss Malbone. Never have I seenso beautiful a creature; and the generous-minded Pris tells me she is asgood, and virtuous, and wise as she is lovely. She is well born and welleducated; and may have a good fortune in the bargain, if that old Mr.Malbone is as rich as they tell me he is, and has conscience enough tomake a just will. Take my advice, my dear son, and marry UrsulaMalbone."
Dear grandmother! I did take her advice; and I am persuaded that, to herdying day, she was all the more happy under the impression that she hadmaterially aided in bringing about the connection.
As General Littlepage and Colonel Follock had come so far, they chose toremain a month or two, in order to look after their lands, and torevisit some scenes in that part of the world in which both felt a deepinterest. My mother, and aunt Mary, too, seemed content to remain, forthey remembered events which the adjacent country recalled to theirminds with a melancholy pleasure. In the meanwhile Frank went to meethis cousin, and had time to return, ere our party was disposed to breakup. During his absence everything was arranged for my marriage with hissister. This event took place just two months, to a day, from that ofthe funeral of Chainbearer. A clergyman was obtained from Albany toperform the ceremony, as neither party belonged to the Congregationalorder; and an hour after we were united, everybody left us alone at the'Nest, on their return south. I say everybody, though Jaap and Susquesuswere exceptions. These two remained and remain to this hour; though thenegro d
id return to Lilacsbush and Satanstoe to assemble his family, andto pay occasional visits.
There was much profound feeling, but little parade, at the wedding. Mymother had got to love Ursula as if she were her own child: and I hadnot only the pleasure, but the triumph of seeing the manner in which mybetrothed rendered herself from day to day, and this without any othermeans than the most artless and natural, more and more acceptable to myfriends.
"This is perfect happiness," said Dus to me, one lovely afternoon thatwe were strolling in company along the cliff, near the Nest--and a fewminutes after she had left my mother's arms, who had embraced andblessed her, as a pious parent does both to a well-beloved child--"Thisis perfect happiness, Mordaunt, to be the chosen of you, and theaccepted of your parents! I never knew, until now, what it is to have aparent. Uncle Chainbearer did all he could for me, and I shall cherishhis memory to my latest breath--but uncle Chainbearer could never supplythe place of a mother. How blessed, how undeservedly blessed does my lotpromise to become! You will give me not only parents, and parents I canlove as well as if they were those granted by nature, but you will giveme also two such sisters as few others possess!"
"And I give you all, dearest Dus, encumbered with such a husband that Iam almost afraid you will fancy the other gifts too dearly purchased,when you come to know him better."
The ingenuous, grateful look, the conscious blush, and the thoughtful,pensive smile, each and all said that my pleased and partial listenerhad no concern on that score. Had I then understood the sex as well as Inow do, I might have foreseen that a wife's affection augments, insteadof diminishing; that the love the pure and devoted matron bears herhusband increases with time, and gets to be a part and parcel of hermoral existence. I am no advocate of what are called, strictly,"marriages of reason"--I think the solemn and enduring knot should betied by the hands of warm-hearted, impulsive affection, increased andstrengthened by knowledge and confidential minglings of thought andfeeling; but I have lived long enough to understand that, lively as arethe passions of youth, they produce no delights like those which springfrom the tried and deep affections of a happy married life.
And we were married! The ceremony took place before breakfast, in orderto enable our friends to reach the great highway ere night shouldovertake them. The meal that succeeded was silent and thoughtful. Thenmy dear, dear mother took Dus in her arms, and kissed and blessed heragain and again. My honored father did the same, bidding my weeping buthappy bride remember that she was now his daughter. "Mordaunt is a goodfellow, at the bottom, dear, and will love and cherish you as he haspromised," added the general, blowing his nose to conceal his emotion;"but should he ever forget any part of his vows, come to me, and I willvisit him with a father's displeasure."
"No fear of Mordaunt--no fear of Mordaunt," put in my worthygrandmother, who succeeded in the temporary leave-taking--"he is aLittlepage, and all the Littlepages make excellent husbands. The boy isas like what his grandfather was, at his time of life, as one pea islike another. God bless you, daughter--you will visit me at Satanstoethis fall, when I shall have great pleasure in showing you _my_general's picture."
Anneke and Kate, and Pris Bayard hugged Dus in such a way that I wasafraid they would eat her up, while Frank took his leave of his sisterwith the manly tenderness he always showed her. The fellow was too happyhimself, however, to be shedding many tears, though Dus actually sobbedon _his_ bosom. The dear creature was doubtless running over the past,in her mind, and putting it in contrast with the blessed present.
At the end of the honey-moon, I loved Dus twice as much as I had lovedher the hour we were married. Had any one told me this was possible, Ishould have derided the thought; but thus it was, and I may truly add,thus has it ever continued to be. At the end of that month, we leftRavensnest for Lilacsbush, when I had the pleasure of seeing my brideduly introduced to that portion of what is called the world, to whichshe properly belonged. Previously to quitting the Patent, however, allmy plans were made, and contracts were signed, preparatory to theconstruction of the house that my father had mentioned. The foundationwas laid that same season, and we did keep our Christmas holidays in it,the following year, by which time Dus had made me the father of a nobleboy.
It is scarcely necessary to say that Frank and Pris were married, aswere Tom and Kate, at no great distance of time after ourselves. Both ofthose matches have turned out to be perfectly happy. Old Mr. Malbone didnot survive the winter, and he left the whole of a very sufficientestate to his kinsman. Frank was desirous of making his sister a sharerin his good fortune, but I would not hear of it. Dus was treasure enoughof herself, and wanted not money to enhance her value in my eyes. Ithought so in 1785, and I think so to-day. We got some plate andpresents, that were well enough, but never would accept any portion ofthe property. The rapid growth of New York brought our vacant lots inthat thriving town into the market, and we soon became richer than wasnecessary to happiness. I hope the gifts of Providence have never beenabused. Of one thing I am certain; Dus has ever been far more prized byme than any other of my possessions.
I ought to say a word of Jaap and the Indian. Both are still living, andboth dwell at the Nest. For the Indian I caused a habitation to beerected in a certain ravine, at no great distance from the house, andwhich had been the scene of one of his early exploits in that part ofthe country. Here he lives, and has lived, for the last twenty years,and here he hopes to die. He gets his food, blankets, and whatever elseis necessary to supply his few wants, at the Nest, coming and going atwill. He is now drawing fast on old age, but retains his elastic step,upright movement, and vigor. I do not see but he may live to be ahundred. The same is true of Jaap. The old fellow holds on, and enjoyslife like a true descendant of the Africans. He and Sus are inseparable,and often stray off into the forest on long hunts, even in the winter,returning with loads of venison, wild turkeys, and other game. The negrodwells at the Nest, but half his time he sleeps in the wigwam, as wecall the dwelling of Sus. The two old fellows dispute frequently, andoccasionally they quarrel; but, as neither drinks, the quarrels arenever very long or very serious. They generally grow out of differencesof opinion on moral philosophy, as connected with their respective viewsof the past and the future.
Lowiny remained with us as a maid until she made a very suitablemarriage with one of my own tenants. For a little while after mymarriage I thought she was melancholy, probably through regret for herabsent and dispersed family; but this feeling soon disappeared, and shebecame contented and happy. Her good looks improved under the influenceof civilization, and I have the satisfaction of adding that she neverhas had any reason to regret having attached herself to us. To thismoment she is an out-door dependent and humble friend of my wife, and wefind her particularly useful in cases of illness among our children.
What shall I say of 'Squire Newcome? He lived to a good old age, dyingquite recently; and with many who knew, or, rather, who did _not_ knowhim, he passed for a portion of the salt of the earth. I never proceededagainst him on account of his connection with the squatters, and helived his time in a sort of lingering uncertainty as to my knowledge ofhis tricks. That man became a sort of a deacon in his church, was morethan once a member of the Assembly, and continued to be a favoriterecipient of public favors down to his last moment; and this simplybecause his habits brought him near to the mass, and because he took themost elaborate care never to tell them a truth that was unpleasant. Heonce had the temerity to run against me for Congress, but thatexperiment proved to be a failure. Had it been attempted forty yearslater, it might have succeeded better. Jason died poor and in debt,after all his knavery and schemes. Avidity for gold had overreacheditself in his case, as it does in those of so many others. Hisdescendants, notwithstanding, remain with us; and while they havesucceeded to very little in the way of property, they are the legitimateheritors of their ancestor's vulgarity of mind and manners--of histricks, his dissimulations, and his frauds. This is the way in whichProvidence "visits the sins of the fathers upon
the children, unto thethird and fourth generations."
Little more remains to be said. The owners of Mooseridge have succeededin selling all the lots they wished to put into the market, and largesums stand secured on them, in the way of bonds and mortgages. Annekeand Kate have received fair portions of this property, including muchthat belonged to Colonel Follock, who now lives altogether with myparents. Aunt Mary, I regret to say, died a few years since, a victim tosmall-pox. She never married, of course, and left her handsome propertybetween my sisters and a certain lady of the name of Ten Eyck, whoneeded it, and whose principal claim consisted in her being a thirdcousin of her former lover, I believe. My mother mourned the death ofher friend sincerely, as did we all; but we had the consolation ofbelieving her happy with the angels.
I caused to be erected, in the extensive grounds that were laid outaround the new dwelling at the Nest, a suitable monument over the graveof Chainbearer. It bore a simple inscription, and one that my childrennow often read and comment on with pleasure. We all speak of him as"Uncle Chainbearer" to this hour, and his grave is never mentioned onother terms than those of "Uncle Chainbearer's grave." Excellent oldman! That he was not superior to the failings of human nature, need notbe said; but so long as he lived, he lived a proof of how much morerespectable and estimable is the man who takes simplicity, and honesty,and principle, and truth for his guide, than he who endeavors tostruggle through the world by the aid of falsehood, chicanery, andtrick.
THE END.