"Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be oiled
to death with melancholy."--SHAKSPEARE.
The progress of society in America, has been distinguished by several
peculiarities that do not so properly belong to the more regular and
methodical advances of civilization in other parts of the world. On
the one hand, the arts of life, like Minerva, who was struck out of
the intellectual being of her father at a blow, have started full-
grown into existence, as the legitimate inheritance of the colonists,
while, on the other, every thing tends towards settling down into a
medium, as regards quality, a consequence of the community-character
of the institutions. Every thing she had seen that day, had struck
Eve as partaking of this mixed nature, in which, while nothing was
vulgar, little even approached to that high standard, that her
European education had taught her to esteem perfect. In the Wigwam,
however, as her father's cousin had seen fit to name the family
dwelling, there was more of keeping, and a closer attention to the
many little things she had been accustomed to consider essential to
comfort and elegance, and she was better satisfied with her future
home, than with most she had seen since her return to America.
As we have described the interior of this house, in another work,
little remains to be said on the subject, at present; for, while John
Effingham had completely altered its external appearance, its
internal was not much changed. It is true, the cloud-coloured
covering had disappeared, as had that stoop also, the columns of
which were so nobly upheld by their super-structure; the former
having given place to a less obtrusive roof, that was regularly
embattled, and the latter having been swallowed up by a small
entrance tower, that the new architect had contrived to attach to the
building with quite as much advantage to it, in the way of comfort,
as in the way of appearance. In truth, the Wigwam had none of the
more familiar features of a modern American dwelling of its class.
There was not a column about it, whether Grecian, Roman, or Egyptian;
no Venetian blinds; no verandah or piazza; no outside paint, nor gay
blending of colours. On the contrary, it was a plain old structure,
built with great solidity, and of excellent materials, and in that
style of respectable dignity and propriety, that was perhaps a little
more peculiar to our fathers than it is peculiar to their successors,
our worthy selves. In addition to the entrance tower, or porch, on
its northern front, John Effingham had also placed a prettily devised
conceit on the southern, by means of which the abrupt transition from
an inner room to the open air was adroitly avoided. He had, moreover,
removed the "firstly" of the edifice, and supplied its place with a
more suitable addition that contained some of the offices, while it
did not disfigure the building, a rare circumstance in an
architectural after-thought.
Internally, the Wigwam had gradually been undergoing improvements,
ever since that period, which, in the way of the arts, if not in the
way of chronology, might be termed the dark ages of Otsego. The great
hall had long before lost its characteristic decoration of the
severed arm of Wolf, a Gothic paper that was better adapted to the
really respectable architecture of the room being its substitute; and
even the urn that was thought to contain the ashes of Queen Dido,
like the pitcher that goes often to the well, had been broken in a
war of extermination that had been carried on against the cobwebs by
a particularly notable housekeeper. Old Homer, too, had gone the way
of all baked clay. Shakspeare, himself, had dissolved into dust,
"leaving not a wreck behind;" and of Washington and Franklin, even,
indigenous as they were, there remained no vestiges. Instead of these
venerable memorials of the past, John Effingham, who retained a
pleasing recollection of their beauties as they had presented
themselves to his boyish eyes, had bought a few substitutes in a New-
York shop, and _a_ Shakspeare, and _a_ Milton, and _a_ Cæsar, and _a_
Dryden, and _a_ Locke, as the writers of heroic so beautifully
express it, were now seated in tranquil dignity on the old medallions
that had held their illustrious predecessors. Although time had, as
yet, done little for this new collection in the way of colour, dust
and neglect were already throwing around them the tint of antiquity.
"The lady," to use the language of Mr. Bragg, who did the cooking of
the Wigwam, having every thing in readiness, our party took their
seats at the breakfast table, which was spread in the great hall, as
soon as each had paid a little attention to the _toilette_. As the
service was neither very scientific, nor sufficiently peculiar,
either in the way of elegance or of its opposite quality, to be
worthy of notice, we shall pass it over in silence.
"One will not quite so much miss European architecture in this
house," said Eve, as she took her seat at table, glancing an eye at
the spacious and lofty room, in which they were assembled; "here is
at least size and its comforts, if not elegance."
"Had you lost all recollection of this building, my child?" inquired
her father, kindly; "I was in hopes you would feel some of the
happiness of returning home, when you again found yourself beneath
its roof!"
"I should greatly dislike to have all the antics I have been playing
in my own dressing-room exposed," returned Eve, rewarding the
parental solicitude of her father by a look of love, "though Grace,
between her laughing and her tears, has threatened me with such a
disgrace. Ann Sidley has also been weeping, and, as even Annette,
always courteous and considerate, has shed a few tears in the way of
sympathy, you ought not to imagine that I have been altogether so
stoical as not to betray some feeling, dear father. But the paroxysm
is past, and I am beginning to philosophize. I hope, cousin Jack, you
have not forgotten that the drawing-room is a lady's empire!"
"I have respected your rights, Miss Effingham, though, with a wish to
prevent any violence to your tastes, I have caused sundry
antediluvian paintings and engravings to be consigned to the--"
"Garret?" inquired Eve, so quickly as to interrupt the speaker.
"Fire," coolly returned her cousin. "The garret is now much too good
for them; that part of the house being converted into sleeping-rooms
for the maids. Mademoiselle Annette would go into hysterics, were she
to see the works of art, that satisfied the past generation of
masters in this country, in too close familiarity with her Louvre-
ized eyes."
"_Point du tout, monsieur_," said Mademoiselle Viefville, innocently;
"_Annette a du gout dans son metier sans doute_, but she is too well
bred to expect _impossibilités._ No doubt she would have conducted
herself with decorum."
Every body laughed, for much light-heartedness prevailed at that
board, and the conversation continued.
"I shall be satisfied if Annette escape convulsions," Eve added, "a
refined taste being her weakness; and, to be frank, what I recollect
of the works you mention, is not of the most flattering nature."
"And yet," observed Sir George, "nothing has surprised me more than
the respectable state of the arts of engraving and painting in this
country. It was unlooked for, and the pleasure has probably been in
proportion to the surprise."
"In that you are very right, Sir George Templemore," John Effingham
answered; "but the improvement is of very recent date. He who
remembers an American town half a century ago, will see a very
different thing in an American town of to-day; and this is equally
true of the arts you mention, with the essential difference that the
latter are taking a right direction under a proper instruction, while
the former are taking a wrong direction, under the influence of
money, that has no instruction. Had I left much of the old furniture,
or any of the old pictures in the Wigwam, we should have had the
bland features of Miss Effingham in frowns, instead of bewitching
smiles, at this very moment."
"And yet I have seen fine old furniture in this country, cousin
Jack."
"Very true; though not in this part of it. The means of conveyance
were wanting half a century since, and few people risk finery of any
sort on corduroys. This very house had some respectable old things,
that were brought here by dint of money, and they still remain; but
the eighteenth century in general, may be set down as a very dark
antiquity in all this region."
When the repast was over, Mr. Effingham led his guests and daughter
through the principal apartments, sometimes commending, and sometimes
laughing, at the conceits of his kinsman. The library was a good
sized room; good sized at least for a country in which domestic
architecture, as well as public architecture, is still in the
chrysalis state. Its walls were hung with an exceedingly pretty
gothic paper, in green, but over each window was a chasm in the upper
border; and as this border supplied the arches, the unity of the
entire design was broken in no less than four places, that being the
precise number of the windows. The defect soon attracted the eye of
Eve, and she was not slow in demanding an explanation.
"The deficiency is owing to an American accident," returned her
cousin; "one of those calamities of which you are fated to experience
many, as the mistress of an American household. No more of the border
was to be bought in the country, and this is a land of shops and not
of _fabricants_. At Paris, Mademoiselle, one would send to the paper-
maker for a supply; but, alas! he that has not enough of a thing with
us, is as badly off as if he had none. We are consumers, and not
producers of works of art. It is a long way to send to France for ten
or fifteen feet of paper hangings, and yet this must be done, or my
beautiful gothic arches will remain forever without their key-
stones!"
"One sees the inconvenience of this," observed Sir George--"we feel
it, even in England, in all that relates to imported things."
"And we, in nearly all things, but food."
"And does not this show that America can never become a manufacturing
country?" asked the baronet, with the interest an intelligent
Englishman ever feels in that all-absorbing question. "If you cannot
manufacture an article as simple as that of paper-hangings, would it
not be well to turn your attention, altogether, to agriculture?"
As the feeling of this interrogatory was much more apparent than its
logic, smiles passed from one to the other, though John Effingham,
who really had a regard for Sir George, was content to make an
evasive reply, a singular proof of amity, in a man of his caustic
temperament.
The survey of the house, on the whole, proved satisfactory to its
future mistress, who complained, however, that it was furnished too
much like a town residence.
"For," she added, "you will remember, cousin Jack, that our visits
here will be something like a _villeggiatura_."
"Yes, yes, my fair lady; it will not be long before your Parisian and
Roman tastes will be ready to pronounce the whole country a
_villeggiatura!_"
"This is the penalty, Eve, one pays for being a Hajji," observed
Grace, who had been closely watching the expression of the others'
countenances; for, agreeably to her view of things, the Wigwam wanted
nothing to render it a perfect abode. "The things that _we_ enjoy,
_you_ despise."
"That is an argument, my dear coz, that would apply equally well, as
a reason for preferring brown sugar to white."
"In coffee, certainly, Miss Eve," put in the attentive Aristabulus,
who having acquired this taste, in virtue of an economical mother,
really fancied it a pure one. "Every body, in these regions, prefers
the brown in coffee."
"_Oh, mon père et ma mère, comme je vous en veux,_" said Eve, without
attending to the nice distinctions of Mr. Bragg, which savoured a
little too much of the neophyte in cookery, to find favour in the
present company, "_comme je vous en veux_ for having neglected so
many beautiful sites, to place this building in the very spot it
occupies."
"In that respect, my child, we may rather be grateful at finding so
comfortable a house, at all. Compared with the civilization that then
surrounded it, this dwelling was a palace at the time of its
erection; bearing some such relation to the humbler structures around
it, as the _château_ bears to the cottage. Remember that brick had
never before been piled on brick, in the walls of a house, in all
this region, when the Wigwam was constructed. It is the Temple of
Neptune of Otsego, if not of all the surrounding counties."
Eve pressed to her lips the hand she was holding in both her own, and
they all passed out of the library into another room. As they came in
front of the hall windows, a party of apprentice-boys were seen
coolly making their arrangements to amuse themselves with a game of
ball, on the lawn directly in front of the house.
"Surely, Mr. Bragg," said the owner of the Wigwam, with more
displeasure in his voice than was usual for one of his regulated
mind, "you do not countenance this liberty?"
"Liberty, sir!--I am an advocate for liberty wherever I can find it.
Do you refer to the young men on the lawn, Mr. Effingham?"
"Certainly to them, sir; and permit me to say, I think they might
have chosen a more suitable spot for their sports. They are mistaking
_liberties_ for liberty I fear."
"Why, sir, I believe they have _always_ played ball in that precise
locality."
"_Always_!--I can assure you this is a great mistake. What private
family, placed as we are in the centre of a village, would allow of
an invasion of its privacy in this rude manner? Well may the house be
termed a Wigwam, if this whooping is to be tolerated before its
door."
"You forget, Ned," said John Effingham, with a sneer, "that an
American _always_ means just eighteen months. _Antiquity_ is reached
in five lustres, and the dark ages at the end of a human life. I dare
say these amiable young gentlemen, who enliven their sports with so
many agreeable oaths, would think you very unreasonable and
encroaching to presume to tell them they are unwelcome."
"To own the truth, Mr. John, it _would_ be downright unpopular."
"As I cannot permit the ears of the ladies to be offended with these
rude brawls, and shall never consent to have grounds that are so
limited, and which so properly belong to the very privacy of my
dwelling, invaded in this coarse manner, I beg, Mr. Bragg, that you
will, at once, desire these young men to pursue their sports
somewhere else."
Aristabulus received this commission with a very ill grace; for,
while his native sagacity told him that Mr. Effingham was right, he
too well knew the loose habits that had been rapidly increasing in
the country during the last ten years, not to foresee that the order
would do violence to all the apprentices' preconceived notions of
their immunities; for, as he had truly stated, things move at so
quick a pace in America, and popular feeling is so arbitrary, that a
custom of a twelve months' existence is deemed sacred, until the
public, itself, sees fit to alter it. He was reluctantly quitting the
party, on his unpleasant duty, when Mr. Effingham turned to a
servant, who belonged to the place, and bade him go to the village
barber, and desire him to come to the Wigwam to cut his hair; Pierre,
who usually performed that office for him, being busied in unpacking
trunks.
"Never mind, Tom," said Aristabulus obligingly, as he took up his
hat; "I am going into the street, and will give the message to Mr.
Lather."
"I cannot think, sir, of employing you on such a duty," hastily
interposed Mr. Effingham, who felt a gentleman's reluctance to impose
an unsuitable office on any of his dependants--"Tom, I am sure, will
do me the favour."
"Do not name it, my dear sir; nothing makes me happier than to do
these little errands, and, another time, you can do as much for me."
Aristabulus now went his way more cheerfully, for he determined to go
first to the barber, hoping that some expedient might suggest itself,
by means of which he could coax the apprentices from the lawn, and
thus escape the injury to his popularity, that he so much dreaded. It
is true, these apprentices were not voters, but then some of them
speedily would be, and all of them, moreover, had _tongues_, an
instrument Mr. Bragg held in quite as much awe as some men dread
salt-petre. In passing the ball-players, he called out in a wheedling
tone to their ringleader, a notorious street brawler--
"A fine time for sport, Dickey; don't you think there would be more
room in the broad street than on this crowded lawn, where you lose
your ball so often in the shrubbery?"
"This place will do, on a pinch," bawled Dickey--"though it might be
better. If it warn't for that plagued house, we couldn't ask for a
better ball-ground."
"I don't see," put in another, "what folks built a house just in that
spot for; it has spoilt the very best play-ground in the village."
"Some people have their notions as well as others," returned
Aristabulus; "but, gentlemen, if I were in your place, I would try
the street; I feel satisfied you would find it much the most
agreeable and convenient."
The apprentices thought differently, however, or they were indisposed
to the change; and so they recommenced their yells, their oaths, and
their game. In the mean while, the party in the house continued their
examination of John Effingham's improvements; and when this was
completed, they separated, each to his or her own room.
Aristabulus soon reappeared on the lawn; and, approaching the ball-
players, he began to execute his commission, as he conceived, in good
earnest. Instead of simply saying, however, that it was disagreeable
to the owner of the property to have such an invasion on his privacy,
and thus putting a stop to the intrusion for the future as well as at
the present moment, he believed some address necessary to attain the
desired end.
"Well, Dickey," he said, "there is no accounting for tastes; but, in
my opinion, the street would be a much better place to play ball in
than this lawn. I wonder gentlemen of your observation should be
satisfied with so cramped a play-ground!"
"I tell you, Squire Bragg, this will do," roared Dickey; "we are in a
hurry, and no way particular; the bosses will be after us in half an
hour. Heave away, Sam."
"There are so many fences hereabouts," continued Aristabulus, with an
air of indifference; "it's true the village trustees say there _shall
be no ball-playing in the street_, but I conclude you don't much mind
what _they_ think or threaten."
"Let them sue for that, if they like," bawled a particularly amiable
blackguard, called Peter, who struck his ball as he spoke, quite into
the principal street of the village. "Who's a trustee, that he should
tell gentlemen where they are to play ball!"
"Sure enough," said Aristabulus, "and, now, by following up that
blow, you can bring matters to an issue. I think the law very
oppressive, and you can never have so good an opportunity to bring
things to a crisis. Besides, it is very aristocratic to play ball
among roses and dahlias."
The bait took; for what apprentice--American apprentice, in
particular--can resist an opportunity of showing how much he
considers himself superior to the law? Then it had never struck any
of the party before, that it was vulgar and aristocratic to pursue
the sport among roses, and one or two of them actually complained
that they had pricked their fingers, in searching for the ball.
"I know Mr. Effingham will be very sorry to have you go," continued
Aristabulus, following up his advantage; "but gentlemen cannot always
forego their pleasures for other folks."
"Who's Mr. Effingham, I would like to know?" cried Joe Wart. "If he
wants people to play ball on his premises, let him cut down his
roses. Come, gentlemen, I conform to Squire Bragg, and invite you all
to follow me into the street."
As the lawn was now evacuated, _en masse_, Aristabulus proceeded with
alacrity to the house, and went into the library, where Mr. Effingham
was patiently waiting his return.
"I am happy to inform you, sir," commenced the ambassador, "that the
ball-players have adjourned; and as for Mr. Lather, he declines your
proposition."
"Declines my proposition!"
"Yes, sir; he dislikes to come; for he thinks it will be altogether a
poor operation. His notion is, that if it be worth his while to come
up to the Wigwam to cut your hair, it may be worth your while to go
down to the shop, to have it cut. Considering the matter in all its
bearings, therefore, he concludes he would rather not engage in the
transaction at all."
"I regret, sir, to have consented to your taking so disagreeable a
commission, and regret it the more, now I find that the barber is
disposed to be troublesome."
"Not at all, sir. Mr. Lather is a good man, in his way, and
particularly neighbourly. By the way, Mr. Effingham, he asked me to
propose to let him take down your garden fence, in order that he may
haul some manure on his potato patch, which wants it dreadfully, he
says."
"Certainly, sir. I cannot possibly object to his hauling his manure,
even through this house, should he wish it. He is so very valuable a
citizen, and one who knows his own business so well, that I am only
surprised at the moderation of his request."
Here Mr. Effingham rose, rang the bell for Pierre, and went to his
own room, doubting, in his own mind, from all that he had seen,
whether this was really the Templeton he had known in his youth, and
whether he was in his own house or not.
As for Aristabulus, who saw nothing out of rule, or contrary to his
own notions of propriety, in what had passed, he hurried off to tell
the barber, who was so ignorant of the first duty of his trade, that
he was at liberty to pull down Mr. Effingham's fence, in order to
manure his own potato patch.
Lest the reader should suppose we are drawing caricatures, instead of
representing an actual condition of society, it may be necessary to
explain that Mr. Bragg was a standing candidate for popular favour;
that, like Mr. Dodge, he considered every thing that presented itself
in the name of the public, as sacred and paramount, and that so
general and positive was his deference for majorities, that it was
the bias of his mind to think half-a-dozen always in the right, as
opposed to one, although that one, agreeably to the great decision of
the real majority of the entire community, had not only the law on
his side, but all the abstract merits of the disputed question. In
short, to such a pass of freedom had Mr. Bragg, in common with a
large class of his countrymen, carried his notions, that he had
really begun to imagine liberty was all means and no end.