A SINGULAR WILL
Upon reaching Williamsburg, Abner, of course, examined the will of his
late granduncle. It was dated May 2, 1782, when Andrew Hite, being
dangerously ill, thought death imminent.
Stripped of all legal verbosities, the purport of the document was that
the testator bequeathed all of his earthly possessions, consisting of
six hundred and forty acres of land in Henderson County, Kentucky;
Crestlands, a Virginia estate of some three hundred acres, and all
slaves, cattle, horses, goods and chattels pertaining to this estate,
to his niece, Mary Belle Hollis Page, youngest child of Andrew Hite's
sister, Mary Hite Hollis--"provided," so read the will, "Mary Belle
Hollis Page, wife of Marshall Page, is still living at this date, the
second day of May in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred
and eighty-two. If, however, said Mary Belle Hollis Page, wife of
Marshall Page, is already deceased, I, Andrew Thurston Hite, of
Crestlands, Sterling County, Virginia, do give and bequeath all my
worldly possessions above mentioned to her legitimate offspring, if
any. In case my niece, Mary Belle Hollis Page, be already deceased and
has left no legitimate offspring, I give and bequeath all houses,
lands, slaves, live stock, goods and chattels of whatsoever nature of
which I die possessed to my niece, Sarah Jane Pepper, of Chestnut Hall,
Caxton County, Virginia, only child of my half-sister, Sarah Melvina
Thornton Pepper, deceased."
Dr. Richard Dudley, of Lawsonville, "husband of Frances Hollis,
deceased, sister of Mary Belle Hollis Page," was named as sole executor
of this will. A codicil dated twenty years later, June 30, 1802, the
very day of Andrew Hite's death, stated that all subsequent wills
having been rendered null and void by the death of the testator's
adopted son, Stephen Balleau Hite, were destroyed, and that the
testator, Andrew Thurston Hite, decreed that the will dated May 2,
1782, should be his last will and testament. This codicil also named
Richard Dudley, "late of Lawsonville, now of Williamsburg," as sole
executor.
Contrary to his own convictions and the dictum of his physicians,
Andrew Hite recovered from his illness in 1782, and five years later
adopted a lad, Stephen Balleau, and reared him as his son. This
Stephen, grown to manhood, but unmarried, was killed in a duel, four
months before the death of his adopted father, then an old man of
seventy-six years. After Stephen was killed, Andrew Hite seems to have
lost all interest in life, and to have neglected making any provision
as to the disposal of his property, until the very day of his death.
Then, instead of making a new will, he on his deathbed, in the presence
of his physician, his old body-servant, and a neighbor, simply added
the codicil to the will made twenty years before.
"This strange will still holds good, I presume, eccentric though it
be," Abner said to Dr. Dudley, after reading the document.
"Certainly," his uncle replied; "for your mother was undoubtedly living
at the date specified in the will."
"Yes," Abner said, "that can be established by your testimony, which is
corroborated by the inscription on her tombstone at Lawsonville and by
the record in your family Bible--both of which give the date of her
death as that of August 21, 1782, three months after the will was
written."
"And," added the doctor, "even should the will not stand, you, the only
child of your mother, are justly entitled to this bequest; for all that
Andrew Hite possessed, save that Kentucky land which he in my presence
promised your mother at his death, came through his father, your
great-grandfather, Abner Hite; and Sarah Jane Pepper is connected only
through her mother, Andrew Hite's half-sister, Sarah Thornton, who was
not a descendant of old Abner Hite. Therefore, you need have no
uneasiness on the score of either the justness or the validity of your
claim; and you should at once take steps to put you in possession of
your legacy."
"That I shall certainly do," said Abner; "and I shall do so, not as
Abner Dudley, but as Abner Dudley Logan. In fact, Uncle Richard, aside
from all question of this bequest, I had already determined to assume
my full name; for, much as I honor you who have been a second father to
me, I think it but justice to my own father's memory, now that I have
arrived at man's estate, that I should wear his name. You know I wished
to do so before I went to Kentucky; but you were so averse to the idea
that I yielded for the time, contrary to my convictions of justice to
my father's memory and against my own preference. But now I am fully
resolved to be known in future by my full name, Abner Dudley Logan."
Dr. Dudley sat silent with downcast eyes, a gloomy, perplexed look upon
his face; and his nephew went on:
"Uncle Richard, I wish you would tell me more about my father and about
my mother's early life. You have always been singularly reticent on the
subject. Why! I was a boy of eleven or twelve before I even knew that
my real name was Logan, and then I discovered it by accident; and it
was not until I read this will of Uncle Hite's that I learned that my
mother had married a second time. The time has now come, I think, when
you should tell me all that you know of my father and mother."
"Of your father," said Richard slowly, and, it seemed to Abner,
reluctantly, "I know little more than the facts already in your
possession. Briefly told, your mother's history is this: Her mother,
Mary Hite, married John Hollis, of Plainfield, New Jersey. To this
union were born eight children, of whom your Aunt Frances, my first
wife, was the eldest, and your mother, the youngest. The six children
intervening died in early childhood. Your grandfather, John Hollis,
died when your mother was two months old, and his wife survived him but
one month. Her half-sister, Sarah Thornton, who had just been married
to Jackson Pepper, of Chestnut Hall in northern Virginia--a widower
with one son--took your mother to raise as her own child. This Sarah
Thornton Pepper died ten years later. She had but one child, Sarah Jane
Pepper. Your mother, after her aunt's death, still lived at Chestnut
Hall until she was about sixteen. Then she greatly offended Jackson
Pepper by refusing to be betrothed to Fletcher Pepper, the son of
Jackson's former marriage. Her home was rendered so unpleasant by
Jackson Pepper's anger and Fletcher's persistence in his suit, that she
went to live at Crestlands with her old bachelor uncle, Andrew Hite,
until a few years later--in 1775, I think--when he went with a party of
adventurers to Kentucky. He expected to be gone a year, and, before
setting forth, he took your mother to Morristown, New Jersey, to find a
temporary home with some of her Hollis connections, two maiden ladies,
her father's cousins. When, however, Andrew Hite returned to Virginia,
he, instead of recalling his niece and settling down with her at
Crestlands, joined the Continental army. So your mother continued with
her distant relatives at Morristown until the winter of 1776-77. After
the battles at Trenton and Princeton, Washington's army, as you know,
went into winter quarters at Morristown. In this army was a young
soldier, John Logan. He and your mother met and immediately fell in
love with each other; and in March, after an acquaintance of only five
weeks, they were married. It was an ill-advised, imprudent marriage.
Mary had nothing of her own, nor had John Logan; and, besides, he must
necessarily be away from his young wife a great deal, and leave her
unprotected and illy provided for while he was encountering the dangers
and hardships of a soldier's life. Mary's relatives at Morristown were
bitterly offended because of her marriage to a man of whose antecedents
she knew nothing, and who was poor, and, still worse, a hated
Continental soldier, for they were strong Tory sympathizers. They would
have nothing whatever to do with Mary after her marriage. In the
spring, when Washington left his winter quarters, Logan, of course,
went with the army, and his wife was left alone at Morristown with a
poor old couple of whom your father had rented lodgings. After the
departure of the troops from Morristown, Logan very rarely could find
opportunity to visit his wife, nor could he make adequate provision for
her comfort. You were born there in the home of the old couple at
Morristown, February 25, 1778. There your mother continued to live
until after your father fell in the battle of Monmouth Court-house in
June, 1778. Then she made her way with you, her four-months-old babe,
back to your Aunt Frances and me. She lived with us until after the
death of your Aunt Frances in March, 1781. Then that fall, and about
five months before my marriage to Rachel Sneed, your mother was married
to Marshall Page, and both she and he died the following August."
"What of this Marshall Page, my stepfather?" asked Abner. "Where was he
from? Was he a man calculated to make my mother happy?"
"He was a brave, honest, hard-working fellow," acknowledged Richard,
"from Maryland; but he had only a limited education, and had not been
gently reared. I was not well pleased with the marriage; and had your
Aunt Frances lived, I do not think Mary would have married him. But as
I was a widower, and no blood relation to your mother, my house was
hardly any longer a suitable refuge for her and her babe. When she and
Marshall Page died the following summer, we--my second wife, Rachel,
and I--took you as our own. It was your mother's dying request that you
should, if possible, be spared all knowledge of her sad history, and be
reared as our own child."
"Nobly have you and Aunt Rachel tried to fulfill that dying request!"
said the young man in a choked voice and with tears in his eyes, as he
arose and threw his arm across his uncle's shoulder.
"And nobly have you repaid our love and care, my boy," the older man
answered huskily. "You have given us filial love and obedience, and
have never crossed our wishes in anything, except when you persisted in
going off to Kentucky, instead of staying here and becoming a lawyer.
But there! there! you were right, I dare say. You had no liking for a
legal profession, and that new country across the mountains is a better
place than this old, aristocratic State for a young, energetic fellow
who has nothing but his native ability and a good education to assist
him forward. So enough of these saddening recollections," he added in a
more cheerful tone, rising briskly and crossing the room to a table
whereon were scattered various papers. "Now for the business pertaining
to this fine fellow, Abner Dudley Logan, as he must be called in
future, I suppose, and who has just come into a rich inheritance."
"Of which inheritance," said Abner, joining his uncle at the table and
picking up one of the papers, "the most valuable part, I'm inclined to
think, will prove to be this Kentucky land. As for this Virginian
estate, I fear from what you tell me that I can realize very little
from it."
"That is true," agreed Richard. "Owing to the recklessness and
prodigality of Stephen Hite, and the neglect and mismanagement of Col.
Andrew Hite during the last ten years of his life, the estate is
well-nigh worthless. Besides being heavily mortgaged, the land is worn,
and the grand old brick mansion built over a hundred years ago by your
great-grandfather, Abner Hite, is sadly out of repair--in fact, is
almost in ruins."
"'Lord of Crestlands, an ancestral estate in the proud old dominion of
Virginia,' sounds rich and grand," laughed Abner; "but is only as
'sounding brass and tinkling cymbals,' after all, without money to lift
mortgages and to repair the breaches made by the prodigality and
carelessness of my predecessors. And, uncle, how about the negroes I am
to inherit?" taking up the copy of the will, and reading therefrom, "'I
give and bequeath all houses, lands, slaves, live stock, goods and
chattels of whatsoever nature of which I die possessed, etc.' How many
of these dusky retainers are there remaining in my ancestral halls?"
"Only three," the doctor answered, "out of the troops of slaves which
Andrew Hite owned twenty years ago. The others, I find, have been sold
from time to time, to pay the gambling debts and for the other vicious
habits of the precious Stephen, I presume. And of the three negroes
still left, two are old and decrepit, which leaves but one of
marketable value. But, Abner, my boy," jokingly added Dr. Dudley, "when
you have realized a fortune out of that Henderson County land which you
think so valuable, you can use this wealth to lift mortgages and to
rebuild this home of your forefathers; so that you will be, after all,
'lord of Crestlands,' the ancestral home of the family."
"That plan doesn't appeal to me," said the young man, stoutly. "For one
thing, I do not consider Crestlands as my ancestral estate. My
Grandmother Hite lived there only until her marriage, and neither
Hollises nor Logans had part or lot in it. No, my ancestral halls shall
be of my own rearing," he said promptly. "I intend indeed to be one day
known as 'Logan of Crestlands;' but not of that ramshackle old manor
house in southeastern Virginia, but of a new Crestlands in that
transmontine paradise, Kentucky. Crestlands!" he said musingly. "Yes, I
like the name. It has a pleasing sound, and I mean that in its
symbolical sense it shall be appropriate; for I intend that life in
this home I shall found shall be one of purity, truth, love, and high
ideals."
"And from the light in your eyes, and that hopeful, exultant smile, I
suspect," said Uncle Richard, "that you have found the fair damsel who
is to reign queen of this goodly domain, this new Crestlands. Is it not
so?"
"I see visions and dream dreams of such a consummation," acknowledged
the young man, flushing warmly; "but at present I am on probation with
this lady fair. I shall know my fate when I return in November for her
verdict. But, uncle, whatever my hopes in that direction, there's
another hope almost equally dear--that my loving foster parents should
share my prosperity. Leave this old home which must be lonely to you
and Aunt Rachel now that I am gone and your daughters both married and
gone from the home nest. You have toiled hard, and have borne the
burden and heat of the day, and now in your declining years I would
have your life all ease and sunshine. Come to me, and share my new
home. I promise you comfort, cheer and happiness. Will you not come?"
"No, my boy," answered his uncle. "'Ephraim is joined to his idols.' I
am too old to transplant to a new soil, however vigorous and genial it
may be; and your Aunt Rachel would never consent to go so far from her
daughters and their children. But some day, when that saucy, black-eyed
siren (I'm certain she is saucy and black-eyed) shall have come to
reign as mistress of your hearth and home, I'll cross the mountains,
old as I am, to spend a few months with you. But all this is far in the
future, and we have too much business still to transact before we can
hope to get you thoroughly established in your rights, to plan so far
ahead."
"As to this Kentucky land, Uncle Richard," said Abner, presently, "when
and how did Uncle Hite acquire it?"
"Back in 1775, I believe, when he went out there on that exploring
trip. Under the provisions of the 'Henderson grant' made that same
year, Andrew Hite purchased, as I see from these papers, a tract of
four hundred acres in that part of the Green River valley now known as
Henderson County. But, instead of remaining in Kentucky and settling on
his land, he returned to this State and joined the army. Now, this
'Henderson grant' was annulled in 1778 by the Virginia Assembly, but
the next year, when the war burdens were beginning to press heavily on
the country, the Assembly enacted a new land law which, besides
arranging for the sale of lands in her western territory, also offered
as military bounty tracts of these western lands to her soldiers. So,
Hite, then a colonel in the Continental army, applied for and received
from the State of Virginia this same land he had purchased under the
old Henderson grant, and sixty acres adjoining. His title, therefore,
was made doubly secure, and he seems to have been little troubled, as
so many others were, by rival claimants. He was wounded in the battle
of King's Mountain, and after his wound had healed, before rejoining
the army, he managed to make another short visit to Kentucky. Upon his
return, on his way to join Lafayette at Yorktown just before
Cornwallis' surrender, Hite stopped at Lawsonville. It was soon after
your Aunt Frances died, and when your mother was on the eve of marrying
Marshall Page. After the war, Hite went to France, where he found this
waif, Stephen Balleau, and brought him home as his adopted son, a year
or so later. That is all I know about Andrew Hite. After that flying
visit to Lawsonville I never saw him, nor heard anything more directly
of him, until I was notified last May of his death, and asked to be
present at the reading of his will.
"This paper shows me," said Abner after a pause, "that Uncle Hite
placed the management of his Kentucky affairs in the hands of an
attorney, Anson Drane. Now, I know a young lawyer of Lexington named
James Anson Drane. It must be the son of this old attorney."
"Yes," said Dr. Dudley, handing his nephew another document, "and from
this paper you will find that this son, your James Anson Drane, was
employed after the death of the father to act as Hite's factor. So your
first step, when you return, will, of course, be to communicate with
this young Drane."