Read The Kentuckian in New-York; or, The Adventures of Three Southerns. Volume 1 (of 2) Page 6


  CHAPTER VI.

  After the visit to the monument, Chevillere daily inquired concerningthe health of the interesting invalid; and as regularly wasindisposition pleaded for her non-appearance. Late in the evening of thethird day, he was slowly pacing the pavement in front of the hotel; nowand then throwing a wistful glance at the lighted window of the lady,when all at once he suddenly wheeled round, and grasping in the dark,was surprised to find that a person whom he had supposed to beimpertinently dogging his steps, had eluded his grasp. He grimly smiledat his own exasperation for an imaginary cause, hastily adjusted hiscloak, and turned down the street leading most directly to the bay.

  When he arrived at the quiet and deserted wharf, and the rapid flow ofhis impetuous blood was retarded by the cool invigorating breeze whichswept over the face of the water, he saw an old yawl lying on the dock,with its broad bottom turned to the bay. Negligently leaning his personat full length against its weather-beaten bottom, and drawing down hishat close over his brows, he surrendered himself to one of thosehabitual reveries which the southern well knows how to enjoy. Had hismind and feelings been attuned to such things at the time, the sceneitself would have furnished no uninteresting subject, with its hundredlittle lights, gleaming in the intense fog and darkness, and thenumberless vessels that lay upon the bosom of the waters, with theirdark outlines dimly visible, like slumbering monsters of their ownelement. He heeded them not; yet were his feelings insensibly impressedwith the surrounding objects, and deeply tinctured with the profoundgloom of the time and scene. The direct current of his thoughts pointed,however, in the direction of the invalid. Her extreme youth, beauty, andapparent innocence,--her deep distress and profound melancholy,naturally produced a corresponding depression in his own otherwiseelastic spirits. He was perfectly unconscious of the time he had spentin this way, when accidentally turning his head to one side, he wasstruck with the appearance of something intercepting the line of visionin that direction. He was just about to approach the cause of hissurprise, when a deep voice, issuing from the very spot, added not alittle to his superstitious mood, by the exact manner in which it chimedin with the present subject of his meditations.

  "A beautiful young woman in affliction is a very dangerous subject ofmeditation, under some circumstances."

  "An honest heart fears no danger from any earthly source," was thereply.

  "Honesty is no guard against external danger in this world, whethermoral or physical," said the figure.

  "Discernment may lend a hand to honesty in such a case."

  "Ha! ha! ha!" hideously retorted the intruder; "Discernment, said you?Man's discernment is a mighty thing; by it he reads the past, thepresent, and the future; what can withstand his mighty vision? He candescry danger at a distance, and bring happiness within his grasp; hecan tell the objects of his own creation, and his Creator's firstbeginning; he can read the starry alphabet in yonder heavens, and fathomthe great deep; he can laugh at the instinct of grovelling creation, andthunder the dogmas of reason in the teeth of revelation itself!Discernment, indeed! ha! ha! ha! why, man is not half so well off as thebrutes. What is their instinct but God's ever present and supportinghand; but man--he has neither perfect reason nor instinct! He has theconscience of an angel, and the impulses of a devil; and reason sitsbetween them, for an umpire, with a fool's cap upon her head! Impulsebribes reason, and reason laughs at conscience. Impulse leads downward,like the power of gravity; and conscience struggles upward like thenightmare: but reason and discernment will traffic and bargain withimpulse for one moment, and blind or cheat conscience the next! Turnmankind loose with all their reason without providence, and they willbutt each other's foolish brains out! Bribed conscience makeshypocrites,--frightened conscience makes fanatics,--but reason-drilledconscience makes incarnate devils!"

  "But," said Chevillere, involuntarily interested by this wild rhapsody,"a tender, conscience-instructed reason, and christianized impulses,make an honest and a discerning man, too."

  "Instructed reason! who teaches man's reason, but the inward devils ofhis impulses? A few good parents may point upward, periodically, but theimpulses pull down! down! down! for ever! no intermission. If they wouldlet go, I myself could plunge into the sea; but the deeper we plunge,the harder they pull! The farther we sink, the heavier they become. Oh!man! of what a cursed race art thou! Think you the inhabitants of themoon are likewise under the ban of God's displeasure?"

  "I indulge in no such impracticable dreams," said Chevillere.

  "No! no! _you_ dream of paradise; but remember what I now tell you, yourparadise will not be without its Eve, and its serpent too!"

  "To whom do you allude?"

  "To the lady of whom you were thinking but now."

  "You know not what you say," said Chevillere.

  "Do I not? Perhaps you would have me speak more plainly! Perhaps youcould screw up your resolution to the point, that I might amputate yourhopes one by one, as a poor fellow sees the surgeon carrying off hisbloody limbs; nay, I could do it!"

  "Why, sir, you never saw me till within the hour."

  "Have I not? perhaps not; I would to heaven I could say as much aboutthe lady."

  "To what lady do you so often allude?"

  "To the lady with the _black mantle_."

  "Hold, she is all innocence and purity."

  "Innocence and purity! Eve was innocent and pure too! yea, andsurpassingly beautiful! but she fell! Alas! her daughters are like her."

  "Come, sir," said Chevillere, with some exasperation, "let us put a stopto this discourse; it is not pleasing to me, and I feel sure it is notuseful to you."

  "Be it so," said the intruder, drawing up his long goat's-hair cloak,and pulling a flat cloth cap closely over his gray locks, as they for amoment became visible by the reflection of the long horizontal rays of alamp from the deck of a neighbouring vessel; "be it so, sir; there is noconvincing a child that a _beautiful_ candle will burn until it scorchesits fingers."

  "In God's name, then, out with it, sir! what is it that seems to burn soupon your tongue? come, out with it!" said Chevillere, sharply.

  "For what do you take me, young man? a gossip or a stripling! I amneither one nor the other; I am old enough to be your father; as wellborn and as well educated as he ever was; and (notwithstanding yoursouthern blood and aristocratic notions) it may be as proud; farewell,sir, and the next time I offer to pull you from the edge of a precipice,perhaps you will listen with more respect to one of double your age, whocan have no interest in deceiving you. Farewell, sir!"

  "Stay! stay! a moment,--one word more. Did you not visit Washington'smonument three days ago, and see me there for the first time?"

  "I could answer either yes or no to that question. How do you know, sir,that we have not met before, centuries ago? Do you not sometimes foreseea whole scene, just as it afterward takes place? Do you not sometimeslook upon a strange face with a shudder? Does not a feature--a smile--oran expression of them combined--sometimes awake the slumbering memory ofages? Is it not so? have you never communed with the dead?"

  "Never, sir."

  "I have, often! often!--and many times have I been warned of approachingevils, by these dreamy conversations; I never dream of seeing my fathersmile upon me, that something good does not speedily follow; nor ofsnakes and serpents, unattended by bad news or bad fortune. Of thesethings I usually dream the night before meeting the lady yonder, after along absence."

  "I supposed as much," said Chevillere.

  "How, sir."

  "I supposed that you had _dreamed_ something against that pure andunfortunate young lady."

  "Would to Heaven it were all a dream! Sunshine would again break intothe dark regions of my thoughts."

  "Suppose I should undertake and pledge my life to convince you that itis so."

  "You might convince me of your sincerity, but not of your power. Can youraise the dead?"

  "No, but what has raising the dead to do with the lady?"

  "More than you ima
gine, perhaps."

  "Ah, I see it is useless to attempt what I proposed and hoped to effectfor the sake of the lady's peace. Have you no friends with you in thiscity?"

  "Yes, I have a dog! there sits the best friend I ever had, save one!"

  "My dear sir! permit me to say I think you far from being well."

  "I never felt better in health than I do at this moment."

  "But we are not judges of our own ailments: Physicians do not oftenprescribe for themselves."

  "I tell you, sir, I am well!"

  "Have it so, sir! but if you are the person whom I met a few days sinceat the monument, I would mildly and respectfully recommend to you tothink no more of the lady you saw there with me. You certainly labourunder some grievous error, with regard to her, at least."

  "You will find, when it is too late, perhaps, that others instead of meare labouring under _fatal_ errors concerning that young lady!Farewell, sir, farewell. When next we meet, you will listen with a moreattentive ear to what I have to say; you will have observed many strangethings yourself, and you will naturally seek, rather than repel asolution of the mystery." Then with a signal to his dog, he hastily wentfrom the wharf, leaving Chevillere in no enviable state of mind.

  Youthful thoughts will not long voluntarily dwell upon the gloomy aspecteven of the circumstances surrounding themselves; it was very natural,therefore, that Chevillere should reflect with much complacency upon thetendency of his friend Lamar's laughing philosophy; nor was he long inthreading his way to the lodgings of the Kentuckian. He had calculatedwith great certainty upon finding his friend there, and on ascending thethree flights of stairs, he heard the voices of both in full chorus oflaughter, that of Lamar indicating his most joyful mood. He rapped atthe door once or twice before he was heard. "Come in!" shouted thebackwoodsman, "what the devil's the use of knocking with every mug ofpunch." Lamar sprang to his feet at the sight of his friend, withvolumes of smoke rolling over his head, and laying one hand onChevillere's back and another on his breast, cried in the true mockheroic;--"'Be thy intents wicked or charitable, thou com'st in such aquestionable shape, that I will speak to thee.' 'Revisit'st thou thusthe glimpses of the moon, making night hideous, and us fools of'liquor--'so horribly to shake our dispositions, with thoughts beyond thereaches of our souls; say, why is this?' But, by old Shakspeare's beard,you look like a ghost indeed! why, whence com'st thou, man? see hiscloak, too! it is covered with sawdust!"

  "Hurrah for old Kentuck!" said Damon, "he's been to the circus! I say,stranger, was there any knockin down and draggin out there. O! blackeyes and bruises! what a rascally appetite I've got now for a knockdown; I swear I think my hands will git as tender as a woman's, if Idon't git a little now and then jist to keep 'em in."

  "I may be soiled from leaning against a boat at the dock," saidChevillere.

  "You certainly have the air of one who had tried a few perils by landand sea," said Lamar.

  "The fact is, I do not feel well, nor in high spirits, and I came hereon purpose to see if Damon could not brighten me up a little."

  "To be sure I can," said he; "but why didn't you come sooner, and thenwe could all have gone to the circus together; that's the place for mymoney; you see you want something to make your blood circulate: a smalltaste or two would soon bring you round."

  "A taste of what?" asked Chevillere.

  "A small bit of a regular row, to be sure; all in good-nature, you know;a man needn't git in a passion, in takin a little exercise after beincooped up here all day, in one of these cocklofts--why, if I sit here anhour, and go down in the street, by hokies, but I want to snortdirectly; I feel like old Pete when he's been stabled up for a week ortwo, and jist turned loose to graze a little; and I'll tell you what itis, stranger, I'm for making a straight coat-tail out of this place, andthat in a hurry, for I've got through all my business now, and I'm keento be among the Yorkers; for I've heard tell there's smashin work thereevery night."

  "Have you any acquaintances there?" asked Lamar.

  "No; but I expect to find some of our Kentuck boys there, who come roundby the lakes; and if I do, I rather reckon we'll weed a wide row."

  "Take care you do not run against old Hays in your mad pranks," saidChevillere.

  "They say he's a little touched with the snappin-turtle, but I'm thinkinhe'd hardly try old Kentuck at a fight or a foot-race."

  "He has had a good many fights and foot-races in his day," saidChevillere.

  "Yes," said Damon, "but always with rogues; he'd find it rather adifferent business at an honest ground-scuffle, where every man had totake care of his own ears."

  "You think, then, he could not be so successful in Kentucky as he is inNew-York, at his occupation," said Lamar.

  "He'd be off the scent there, and I rather think he'd soon look like thebabes in the woods; you see he has the rogues in the city like a coonwhen he's treed; an old dog's better than a young one in such a fix."

  "But come, Damon, go on with your adventures of the day whichChevillere's entrance interrupted."

  "Not till we have wet our whistles; come, stranger (to Chevillere), youhave'nt drank nothin since you came into the room, nor into the cityeither, for what I know."

  "You know," said Chevillere, "that I am a cold water man, upon taste andprinciple both."

  "And that's what I call ra'al hard drink; well, here's to the little galof the circus, and the little gal down yonder at the hotel; cold water'sbut a sorry drink to pledge such warm-hearted creters--but I see talkingof them makes you look solemncholy again, and so here goes for my day'swork; let me see--where did I leave off?"

  "At the commission house where you carried the letter," said Lamar.

  "Ah, by the hokies! so it was. Well, you see, I marched into the greatstore, as they had told me it was, with my nose uppermost, like a pig inthe wind, I had an order on them for some of the eel-skins--but I soonbrought my snout down agin; ho! ho! thought I, here's a pretty spot ofwork! I'm a Turk if I aint tetotally dished."

  "What was the matter?" said Chevillere.

  "Why, instead of all the fine things loomin out in the wind as Iexpected for such great marchants, I found nothing but a long emptystore, and no shelves even, and there sat two or three starched lookindogs, on so many old rum bar'ls; I swear I thought in a minute about ourold still-house, and the school-master, and the miller, and theblacksmith, and the stiller, talkin politics over the bar'ls, and takina swig every now and then out of the old proof-vial."

  "Well! you presented your draft," said Lamar, "and what then?"

  "No I did'nt--I got a straddle of a bar'l too; I thought I would take adish of chat, for that was about the most I expected to get. Rat me! butI began to feel a little particular about the gizzard in thoughts ofsellin old Pete to get home on; I put on a long face. It's everlastindull times for business, said I. 'O sir, you are quite mistaken,business is taking a look up--it's getting very brisk indeed.' And herubbed his hands, and looked as glad as if he had had a drink of thathot punch. So, thought I, I'm off the trail; but I thought I would treehim next time. 'The best horses, said I, will stumble sometimes.' 'Sir?'said he, I said 'the honestest men sometimes make bad speculations.''Oh!' said he, 'I understand you! but I hope business is brisk and moneyplenty this season in the west.' Now, thought I, he's got the boot onthe wrong leg this time; 'yes, said I, we can't complain, but I must sayI thought it looked a little dull hereabouts.' 'O, you western men aresuch driving fellows, that you can't put up with our slow way of makinmoney.' He's feedin me on soft corn, thought I. 'We do a little now andthen, but getting the money afterward is all our trouble,' said I. 'Why,sir, you have hit the nail upon the head; that's the difficultyeverywhere,' said he. I thought I would run him into a stand 'fore long;but he hoisted his tail and flung me clean off the trail agin. 'Can't Isell you half a dozen bar'ls of cognac brandy to-day,' said he. Isnapped my fingers and jumped up, and by the long Harry I was nearraisin the whoop; for I thought old Pete and the money was all safe, andso it was. 'O! the hunte
rs of Kentucky! old Kentucky;' and he began tosing and caper round the table.

  "Did he pay the money?" asked Chevillere.

  "Not exactly; these city chaps keep their money buried, I believe, foryou never see none of it; I reckon they're 'fraid it'll spile;howsomever, he gave me an order on the bank for the eel-skins."

  "Then you took your leave," said Lamar.

  "No; he asked me if I had ever seen an auction of a ship's cargo; I saidno, I had never seen more nor a Kentuck vendue: he asked me to go along;I'm your man, said I, for I expected there would be smashin work if awhole ship-load was to be sold, for I have seen some very clever littleskrimmages at a vendue; well, when we got there, there was boxes andbags all laying in rows, and little troughs laying under them, like themwe catch sugar-water in. Some had little long spoons made on purpose tosuck sugar with, and some had little augers for boring holes; presentlythe crier began. '_Seven, seven, seven--eight, eight, eight cents apound, going, going_,' and smash went the little mallet; 'how many doyou take, sir? twenty, or the hundred boxes?' said he. 'Take thehundred,' said a man, that looked like he wasn't worth the powder thatwould blow him up."

  "Could you always tell who bid?"

  "No; they mostly did it by winkin, I believe; sometimes one fellow wouldgrunt this side and another that side; I kept my head bobbin after themfirst one side and then the other; but whenever I looked in their facestheir eyes looked as sleepy as a dog in fly-time, just waitin to snap afellow that was buzzin about his ears."

  "Did you find out at last who were the bidders?"

  "No; they shut up their faces like steel-traps. Once or twice, maybe, Isaw a dyin-away wrinkle round a feller's mouth, like the rings in thewater when you throw a stone in; but they soon faded away, and theylooked as smooth and deceitful as a pool of deep water itself agin."

  "They tasted and tried the articles, of course, before they bought?"

  "Yes; some of them had their mouths daubed, like children suckin 'lassescandy; and some of their big noses was stuck full of Bohea tea, outsideand in, like old Pete when he's had a good feed of chopped rye and cutstraw."

  "And what sort of a man was the auctioneer?"

  "Why, his mouth went so fast when he got to '_going, going, going_,'that you couldn't say _stop_, if you had had your mouth fixed; but hisface I didn't like at all."

  "What was there in his face objectionable?"

  "O! I can't tell exactly, it looked out of all sort of nature; a gooddeal I don't know howish. One thing I'll be sworn to, you would neversee such a one in old Kentuck; there every man wears his Sunday face onweek days."

  "I suppose you mean that the man was disfigured with affectation," saidChevillere.

  "You've hit it, stranger, you've hit it; that's the very word I wantedto be at, but I couldn't get it out. Well, from the vendue I took astroll round town, to see the lads and lasses; how they carried theirheads in these parts, and maybe to see how they carried on their_sparkin_ in a big town like this; for, to tell you the truth, that'sone of the things I never could see how they carried on here."

  "How did you manage such things in the west? Is there any thing peculiarin your method?"

  "I can't say we're different from other folks in the country, but yousee we have abundance of chances to court the gals a little; for there'sour weddings."

  "There are weddings here, too, I hope," said Lamar.

  "Yes, and a pretty business they make of 'em; I blundered into a churchthe other day, and what should be goin on there but a weddin; and smashmy apple-cart, if there wasn't more cryin and snifflin than I've seen atmany an honest man's funeral, and all in broad daylight, too; and whenthe parson had got through his flummery, with his long white morningown, they all jumped into carriages, and off they went away into thecountry somewhere, to hide themselves. I rather suspect they had stole amarch on the old folks, else they wouldn't have run so as if the devilwas at their heels."

  "How do you conduct such things in the west?" asked Lamar.

  "Oh! there we have quiltings, skutchings, and sewin frolics, and makinapple butter, and all such like; and they always wind up at the littleend with a rip-sneezin dance, and that's where we do the sparkin; well,presently a weddin grows out of it, and maybe then there isn't a littlefun agoing, dance all night, and play all sort of games, at least allthem sort that wind up in kissin the gals, and that they manage to bringabout by sellin pawns, and one thing or other. For my part, I nevercould see into any but the kissin part, and that you know was the creamof the joke."

  "They do not often go to church to get married then," said Chevillere.

  "No; I never saw anybody married at church before t'other day, and Ihope it'll be a long time before their new-fangled ways travels out toold Kentuck; there our gals and boys stands up before the parson a fewminutes, and he rolls his tobacco two or three times over his teeth,and _chaws_ a few words, and it's all over before you could say 'Godsave the commonwealth' three times; and what's the use in makin threebites of a cherry?"

  "But you have wandered from your point," said Lamar; "you started out onan expedition to see how the lads and lasses carried themselves here."

  "O! ay, sure enough; well, one of the first things I come across was aparcel of gals and boys on horseback, and I'm flummucked if it wouldn'thave been a pretty tolerable show in the land of hogs and homminy. Thegals rode well enough, considering how they were hampered with clothesand trumpery; but the men! O smashy! how they rode! bobbin up and downon the saddle, with three motions to the horse's one. I'm an Injin ifold Pete Ironsides wouldn't have kicked up his heels and squealed at thevery first motion of the rider goin ahead of him; and then the saddleswere stuck on the shoulders of the animals, like a hump on a man's back,or a pair of _haims_ to hitch traces to. One of them chaps would ride asaddle about twice as hard as a horse. I was lookin evry minute for oneof 'em to light behind his saddle."

  "Did all the gentlemen and ladies you met carry themselves sounnaturally?" said Lamar.

  "No; I met one young lady dressed in black that I thought I had seenbefore somewhere, and her spark too; but they were too busy to see me._She_ looked more coy and shamefaced, like our country gals, than any ofthem."

  "How did the gentleman bear himself? was he polite and respectful in hiscarriage?" said Lamar, smiling, and looking at Chevillere.

  "Oh, yes! he bowed his head close down to the bonnet of the prettylittle lady, and walked that way all through the street, as if he wasafraid to lose so much as a word; sometimes she seemed to be just readyto cry, and looked pale and frightened. I rather suppose her old dad's alittle sour or cross, maybe; but for all I couldn't help thinkin what aclever nice young couple they would make to stand up before the parson."

  Chevillere attempted reserve of manner, but blushed and smiled in spiteof himself, as he asked Damon, "Not your chaw-tobacco parson, I hope?"

  "And why not? what if he _would_ roll his chaw-tobacco into one cheek atyou, while he coupled you up with the other? I'll be bound you'd look atsomebody else's pretty cheeks more nor you would at the parson'schaw-tobacco; besides, what harm is there in a parson's chawin? I knowan old one who would no more git up into his pulpit of a Sunday withouta good smart plug in his mouth, than I would strike my own brother whenhe's down. I've seen him afore now, when his wind held out longer thanhis tobacco, run his finger first into one jacket-pocket, and then intothe other, and at last he'd draw a little piece of pigtail, just up tothe top of the water (as you may say), and then he'd let it go again."

  "Some virtuous shame, in view of the congregation, I suppose," saidChevillere.

  "Yes, that was it; but I never heard any of the sarmont after the oldboy's ammunition run out."

  "Why, what had his tobacco to do with your listening?"

  "A great deal; no sooner would the old feller begin to fumble in hispockets, than my hand always run into mine, of its own accord, andlugged out a chunk of a twist just ready to hand to the old man, andthen when I'd find it couldn't be, I naturally took a plug mysel
f, andchawed for the old boss till his wind _flagg'd_."

  "Or, in other words, his desire for the weed made you desire it, to curewhich you chewed for yourself, and flattered your conscience all thewhile that you were rendering him a service," said Chevillere.

  "Very like! very like! for I know it makes a feller husky dry to seeanother famishin for a little of the cretur."

  "Not so much so, perhaps, as if a dry person, as you call him, shouldsee another drinking, and could get none himself."

  "Oh! but that's a case out of all nature, as one may say, in theseparts, anyhow, where liquor runs down the streets, after a manner."

  Chevillere and Lamar, both rising, exchanged the usual salutations, andthe _good night! good night!_ went the rounds of all present.