CHAPTER XLV.
THE JUDGE REMARRIED.
Vesta found her circle reunited, though with many absentees, at PrincessAnne.
Aunt Hominy took her place in the kitchen, and cooked with all herformer art, but her voice and understanding were gone, and she neverwould go past the Entailed Hat, and still regarded it, as nearly ascould be made out, as the cause of all her errors and dangers, thoughshe seemed to admit its unevadable dominion.
The poor woman, Mary, finding Samson Hat, in time, wishing to have apartner in the old storehouse, where he had become the only resident,had faith enough left to make her third marriage with him; and his meansnot only made good the property she had lost, but the hale old manpresented her with a babe boy, which took the name of Meshach Phoebus,and on which Judge Custis sagely remarked that it "ought to have been ared-headed nigger, having both the fiery furnace and the blazing sun inits name."
On Samson Hat's death, which resulted from rheumatism reaching hisheart, his widow joined her deliverer from slavery, James Phoebus, inthe West, where he lived happily with his bride and stepson, and oftenwrote home of a friend he had there named Abe Lincoln, who madeflat-boat voyages with him down the Mississippi. Both Ellenora Phoebusand Hulda Dennis reared Western families which played effective parts inthe drama of civilization.
Vesta lost no time in setting free every slave about Teackle Hall and onthe farms, with the approval of her father and husband also, and Roxybecame the wife of Whatcoat, the rescued freedman, and the replacer, ather mistress's side, of poor Virgie, whose body was brought home andinterred by the church where she had been her white sister's bridesmaid.The grief of Vesta for Virgie was quiet, but long, and as that of anequal, not a mistress, though she may have never known how equal.
In the fatalities thronging about her marriage Vesta observed one signalblessing--the complete reform of her father's habits.
He drank nothing whatever, supplying with fruit the pleasures of wine,and with exercise and business, on her husband's behests, the vagranttours he once made in the forest for politics and amours.
Aware of his sociable and voluptuous nature, Vesta desired to see himmarried again, to complete and secure his reformation; and, while shewas yet puzzling her brain to think of a wife to suit him, he solved theproblem himself by cleanly cutting out Rhoda Holland from under theattentions of William Tilghman.
Rhoda had rapidly learned, and had corrected her grammar without losingher humor and her taste for dress, and her free, warm spirits soon madeher an elegant woman, in whom, fortunately or unfortunately, a verydecided worldly ambition germinated,--at once the proof and thevindication of _parvenues_.
She may have patterned it upon her uncle, or it may have emanated fromhis ambitious family stock, which, in and around him, had wakened to thevigor of a previous century; but it was so different from Vesta's naturethat, while it but made nobler her soul of tranquil piety and ease ofladyhood, Vesta was interested in Rhoda's self-will and businesscoquetry.
A higher vitality than Vesta's, Rhoda Holland soon showed, in thesuperficial senses, more acuteness of sight and insight, quickerintuitions, more self-love, though not selfishness, lessscrupulousness, perhaps, in dealing with her lovers, and, with fidelityand virtue, a pushing spirit that Vesta only mildly reproved, since shemade the allowance that it was in part inspired by herself.
"Take care, dear," Vesta said one day, "that you grow not away from yourheart. With all improving, there is a growth that begets the heartdisease. Do you love cousin William Tilghman? He is too true a man to behurt in his feelings. Nothing in this world, Rhoda, is a substitute forprinciple in woman."
"I don't want to lose principle, auntie," Rhoda said; "but I am afraid Ilove life too much to be a pastor's wife. I never saw the world for solong that I'm wild in it. I want to go, to look, and to see, everywhere.I feel my heart is in my wings, and must I go sit on a nest? MissSomers--"
"The question is, dear, do you love?"
"Auntie, I reckon I love William as much as he does me."
"But he is devoted, Rhoda."
"If I thought I had the whole, full heart of William, Aunt Vesta, and itwould give him real pain to disappoint him, I would marry him. But Ihave watched him like a cat watches a mouse. He wants to marry me tomake other people than himself happy; to reconcile you and uncle more;to take uncle more into your family by marrying his niece. William istrying to love Uncle Meshach like a good Christian, but, Aunt Vesta, hethinks more of your little toe than of my whole body."
The crimson color came to Vesta's cheeks so unwillingly, so mountingly,that she felt ashamed of it, and, in place of anger, that many wives soexposed would have shown, she shed some quiet tears.
"Rhoda, don't you know I am your uncle's wife."
Rhoda threw her arms around her.
"Forgive me, dear! When you tell me, Aunt Vesta, that William loves medearly, I'll gladly marry him. I only want, auntie, not to makehappiness impossible, when to wait would be better."
Vesta wondered what Rhoda meant, but, kissing her friend tenderly again,Rhoda whispered:
"Auntie, it's not selfishness that makes me behave so. Indeed, I loveWilliam; it's a sacrifice to let him go."
Vesta looked up and found Rhoda's eyes this time full of tears.
"Strange, tender girl!" cried Vesta. "What makes you cry?"
Yet, for some unspoken, perhaps unknown, reasons, they both shedtogether the tears of a deeper respect for each other.
Soon afterwards Judge Custis, being sent to Annapolis by Milburn, wasrequested to take Rhoda along, as a part of her education, and Vestawent, also, at her husband's desire.
She feared that her father, devoted as he had become to her husband'sbusiness interests, still disliked him and bore him resentment; andVesta wished to see not only outward but inward reconcilement of thosetwo men, from one of whom she drew her being, and towards the otherbegan to feel sacred yet awful ties that took hold on life and death.
They were taken to the landing by Mr. Milburn and the young rector, andthere, as the steamboat approached, Tilghman said:
"Rhoda, your uncle has consented. He wishes us to marry. I ask you,before all of them, to consider my proposal while you are gone, and comehome with your reply."
The impetuous girl threw her arms around him and kissed him in silence,and, covering her face with her veil, awaited in uncontrollable tearsthe steamboat that was to carry her to the mightier world she had neverseen, beyond the bay.
After she reached the steamer her stillness and grief continued, andgoing to bed that night she turned up her face, discolored by tears, forVesta to kiss her, like a child, and faltered:
"Aunty, don't think I have no principle. Indeed, I have some."
* * * * *
Annapolis, half a century the senior of Baltimore, and the first town totake root in all the Chesapeake land, was now almost one hundred andfifty years old, and the stern monument of Cromwell's protectorate. Itshandful of expelled Puritans from Virginia, compelled to organize theircounty under the name of the Romanist, Anne Arundel, unfurled thestandard of the Commonwealth, reddened with a tyrant king's blood,against the invading army of Lord Baltimore, and, shouting "God is ourstrength: fall on, men!" annihilated feudal Maryland, never to revive;and, after King William's similar revolution in England, "Providencetown" took his queen sister's name, _Anna_polis, like Princess Anneacross the bay.
Annapolis became a place of fashion and of court, with horse-races,stage-playing, a press, a club, fox-hunting clergymen, a grandstate-house, the town residences of planters, the belles of Maryland,and the seat of war against the French, the British crown, and theslaveholders' insurrection.
It was now in a state of comfortable decline, having yielded toBaltimore and to Washington its once superior influence and society; buta lobby, the first in magnitude ever seen in this province, hadassembled in the name of canals and railroads to compete for the bondedaid of the Legislature, and Judge Custis was leading
the forlorn hope ofthe Eastern Shore for some of the subsidy so liberally showered upon thecormorant, Baltimore.
Judge Custis was instructed to lobby at Annapolis for one milliondollars, or only one-eighth part of the grants made by the state, and hewas to draw on Meshach Milburn for funds, who, meantime, continued outof his private resources to grade and buy right of way for one hundredand thirty miles of railroad.
The adventure was gigantic for the private capital of that day, and theunpopularity of the adventurer at home was soon testified at the statecapital.
Vesta, whose carriage had been brought over, looked with a gentlepatriotism--being herself of divided Maryland and Virginiasympathies--upon the little peninsulated capital, with its old roomyhouses of colonial brick, its circles and triangles in the public ways,and the unchanged names of such streets as King George, Prince George,and the Duke of Gloucester; but Rhoda was excited to the height of statepride in everything she saw, and, with strong faculty, seized on thehistorical and political relations of Annapolis, till Judge Custis said:
"Vesta, that girl is of the old rebel Milburn stock, I know. She takesit all in like a wild duck diving for the bay celery."
With two such beautiful women to speak for it, the Eastern Shorerailroad seemed at first to have many friends, but it was not in thenature of the enterprising elements about Baltimore to yield a point,however complaisant they might appear.
Vesta did not go into general company, but her influence was mildlyexercised in her rooms at the large old hotel, and in her carriage asshe made excursions in pleasant weather to the South and West rivers, to"the Forest" of Prince George and to the thrifty Quakers of Montgomery.She wrote and received a daily letter, her husband being attentive andtender, despite his growing cares, as he had promised to be on thatsevere day he made his suit to her.
But the story of her sacrifice, shamefully exaggerated, with all thatintensity of expression habitual in a pro-slavery society whenever moneyis the stake and denunciation the game, was used to injure her husband'sinterests.
Mr. Milburn was described as a vile Yankee type of miser andoverreacher, who had plotted against the fortune of a gentleman and thevirtue of his daughter for a long series of remorseless years.
Local opposition affirmed that he would use the railroad to ruin othergentry and oppress his native region, and that he was a Philadelphiaemissary and an abolitionist, scheming to create a new state of thethree jurisdictions across the bay.
Judge Custis, with his great popularity, did not escape censure; he wassaid to have winked at the surrender of his child for money andambition, and to have broken the heart of his estimable wife after hehad lost her fortune in an iron furnace.
Senator Clayton, whose mother had originated near Annapolis, made avisit there from Washington, and was entrapped into saying that Delawarewould furnish all needful railway facilities for the Eastern Shore, andthat two railways there would never pay.
Finally, Judge Custis wrote to his son-in-law to come to Annapolis andmeet these misstatements in person.
Milburn came, and his pride being irritated by the nature of theopposition, he wore to the scene of the combat his ancestral hat.
He became at once the most marked figure in Maryland.
In one end of the state he was caricatured in drawings and verses as thegeneric Eastern-Shore man, wearing such a hat because he had not heardof any later styles.
The connection of a man of last century's hat with such a progressivething as a railroad, seemed to excite everybody's risibilities. Hisrailroad was called the Hat Line, even in the debates, and coarse peopleand negroes were hired by wits in the lobby to attend the Legislaturewith petitions for the Eastern Shore railroad, the whole delegationwearing antique and preposterous hats, gathered up from all the oldcounties and from the slop-shops of Baltimore; and in that day queerhats were very common, as animal skins of great endurance were stillused to manufacture them.[17]
From Somerset word was sent that Milburn retained his hat from noamiable weakness or eccentricity, but because he had entered a vow neverto abandon it till he had put every superior he had under his feet; andthat he was a victim of gross forest superstition, and had made abargain with the devil, who allowed him to prosper as long as he bravedsociety with this tile.
The hotel servants chuckled as he went in and out; the oystermen andwood-cutters called jocosely to each other as he passed by; respectablepeople said he could have no consideration for his wife to degrade herby raising the derision of the town. Judge Custis finally remarked:
"Milburn, I resolved, many years ago, never to address you again on thesubject of your dress. My duty makes me break the resolve: your hat isthe worst enemy of your railroad."
Vesta, however, was the Entailed Hat's greatest victim. It lay upon herspirits like a shroud. Nervous and apprehensive as she had become, theperpetual admonition and friction of this article drove her into silenceand gloom, poisoned the air and blocked up the sunlight, made goingforth a constant running of the gantlet, and hospitality a comedy, andhuman observation a wondering stare.
The hat was the silent, unindicated thing that stood between her and herhusband and the rest of the world. She never mentioned it, for she sawthat it was forbidden ground. Kind and liberal as her husband was inevery other thing, she dared not allude to a matter which had become thecentre of his nervous organization, like an indurated sore; and yet shesaw, from other than selfish considerations, that this hat was his ownworst foe.
Some positive vice--and he had none--some calculating conspiracy--and hewas direct as the day--some base amusement or hidden habit or acriddisease would hold him in captivity and pervert his heart less than thissimple aberration of behavior. Had he been a hunchback men would haveoverlooked it; a hideous goitre or wen they would not have resented; butextreme gentility or high-bred courtesy could not refrain from turningto look a second time at a man with a beautiful lady on his arm and asteeple hat upon his head.
The existence of any subject man and wife must not talk together upon,which is yet a daily ingredient of comfort and display, itselfdisarranges their economy and finally becomes the chronic intruder oftheir household; and, when it is a trifle, it seems the more anobstacle, because there is no reasoning about it.
This Hat had long ceased to be external: it was worn on Milburn's heartand stifled the healthy throbbing there. It made two men of him,--theouter and the household man,--and, like the Corsican brothers, they wereever conscious of each other, and a word to one aroused the other'sclairvoyant sensibility.
"If people would only not observe him," Vesta said, "I think he wouldlay his hat aside; but that is impossible, and all his pride is in theunending conflict with a law of everlasting society. Who sets a fashion,we do not know; who dares to set one that is obsolete must be a martyr;independence no one can practise but a lunatic. Oh, what tyranny existsthat no laws can reach, and how much of society is mere formality!"
Vesta pitied her husband, but the disease was beyond her cure. She hadanticipated some compensation for her marriage, in a larger life andsociety, and in the exercise of her mind, especially in art and music;yet these were purely social things with woman, and the baneful hat wasever darkening her threshold and closing the vista of every other one.She meditated escaping from it by a visit to Europe, which her fatherhad promised her before his embarrassments, and which had been spoken ofby Mr. Milburn as due her in the way of musical perfection.
"Uncle," Rhoda Holland said one day, "do put off that old hat. AuntVesta could love you so much better! People think it is cruel, uncle.Oh, listen to your wife's heart and not to your pride."
"Stop!" said Milburn. "One more reference to my honest hat and you shallbe sent back to Sinepuxent and Mrs. Somers."
It may have been this dreadful threat, or rising ambition, or thefascinations of Judge Custis's position and attentions and remarkablegallantry, that disposed Rhoda to turn her worldly sagacity upon thefather of her friend.
The visit to Annapolis occupied
the whole winter; as it proceeded, JudgeCustis, suppressing the temptations of the table, and feeling his laterresponsibilities thoughtfully, and desirous of a fixed settlement in ahome again, felt a powerful passion to possess Rhoda Holland.
He contended against it in vain. Her beauty and coquetry, and ambition,too, seized his fancy, and worked strongly upon his imagination. He hadseen her grow from a forest rose to be the noblest flower of the garden,superb in health, rich in colors, tall and bright and warm, and easilyaware of her conquests, and with a magical touch and encouragement. Shebegan to lead him on from mere mischief. He was wise, and observant ofwomen, and he threw himself in the place of her instructor and courtier.She became his pupil, and an exacting one, driving his energies onward,demanding his full attention, stimulating his mind; and Vesta soon sawthat her father was a blind captive in the cool yet self-flutteredmeshes of her connection.
"Is there any law, husband," Vesta asked, "to prevent Rhoda marryingJudge Custis?"
"I think not. There is no consanguinity. In a society where every degreeof cousins marry together, it would be as gratuitous to interfere insuch a marriage as to forbid my hat by law."
"He is so enamoured of her," said Vesta, "that I fear the results of herrefusing him upon his habits. Father is a better man than he ever was: awife that can retain his interest will now keep him steady all hislife."
The adjournment of the Legislature was at hand; another year, andperhaps years unforeseen in number, were to be occupied in the sameslow, illusive quest.
Judge Custis found himself one morning early above the dome of the oldstate-house, where he frequently went at that hour with Rhoda Holland,to look out upon the bay and the town and "Severn's silver wavereflected."
He turned to her with a sparkle of humor, yet a flush of the cheek, andsaid:
"My girl, what is to be your answer to Pastor Tilghman's marriageoffer?"
"It cannot be."
"Then I am free to ask for another. Rhoda, you have seen that I amfoolish for you. I was your admirer when you were a poor forest girl--"
"And when you were a married man," Rhoda interrupted. "How splendid andsly you were! But, even then, I was delighted that a great man like youcould even flirt with me. Perhaps you will cut up the same way again?"
"No, Rhoda. This is my last opportunity. I will devote to you myremaining life. I am fifty-five, but it is the best fifty-five inMaryland. You shall have the devotion of twenty-five."
"I want to be taken to Washington," Rhoda said. "I think I could marryan old man if he took me there."
"I will run for Congress, then. You will make a great woman in publiclife. I do not ask you to love me, but to let me love you. Oh, my child,marriage has been a tragedy with me. I will be a repentant and a fondhusband. Hear my selfishness speak and make the sacrifice."
"If I say 'Yes,'" said Rhoda, "it is not to settle down and nurse you.You are to be what you have been this winter: a beau, and an ever fondand gallant gentleman."
"Yes, as long as time will let me."
"Then say no more about it," Rhoda answered, with a little pallor; "ifthe rest are willing, a poor girl like me will not refuse you, but say,like Ruth, 'Spread thy skirt over thine handmaid; for thou art a nearkinsman.' I love your daughter."
Meshach Milburn, not more than half pleased with the turn affairs hadtaken, hastened to Princess Anne in advance and sought WilliamTilghman.
"Dear friend," he said, "I hope your heart was not committed to mywayward niece?"
"Has she engaged herself to another, Cousin Meshach?"
"Yes, to Judge Custis. You know what a taking way he has with girls. Itwas not my match, William."
Milburn looked at the young man and beheld no disappointment on hisface--rather a flush of spirit.
"Cousin Meshach," he said, cheerfully, "I thought I could make Rhodahappy; I thought I interpreted her right. Since I was mistaken, it isbetter that she has been sincere. No, my heart is still a bachelor's anda priest's. See, cousin! The bishop has sent for me to take a largerfield."
He united Rhoda and the Judge, as he had married his first love--toanother; she was pale and in tears; he kissed her at the altar, and gavehis hand to the Judge warmly:
"I know you will be a better Christian, Cousin Daniel. God has given youmuch love on the earth. Our prayers for you have been answered."
Vesta was disappointed, expecting to see William made happy in amarriage with Rhoda.