A CLOUDED HONEYMOON.
It had been arranged, as the best plan for all parties, under present
circumstances, that Fannie should retain her situation as shop-woman at
Leroux's hair-dressing and fancy store, where they were anxious to keep
her as long as possible.
With Valentine's hundred dollars, and fifty dollars that had been made
in overwork by Phaedra, a room was taken in M----, and neatly furnished.
And there Valentine and Fannie went to housekeeping, after this fashion:
Fannie, still tending Leroux's shop all day, ate and slept at home,
where Valentine visited her once a week, or oftener, whenever he could
do so.
In the meantime, as winter advanced, Mr. Waring's health was fully
re-established; and, as many of his favorite boon companions, who had
been absent on their summer tours, returned to the neighborhood, Oswald
began to resume his former habits of extravagant and reckless
dissipation. Deer-hunting, coursing, partridge-shooting, and other field
sports, occupied the mornings; and dinner parties, oyster suppers, and
other entertainments, accompanied and followed by wine-drinking,
song-singing, card-playing, and similar orgies, at home or abroad,
filled up the afternoons and evenings.
Again were Valentine's services brought into requisition three or four
nights of every week, to drive his master to the city at dusk, and home
again at dawn. Upon these occasions, Valentine would drive Mr. Waring
first to the clubhouse, restaurant, or billiard-saloon, that happened to
be his destination for the evening, set him down, take the carriage and
horses to the livery stable, leave them, and then go to Leroux's and
stay with Fannie until the hour of closing the store arrived, when he
would take her home.
Valentine, from his "gentlemanly" appearance, dress, and address, as
well as from his perfectly trustworthy character, was not an unwelcome
visitor at the store, where, behind the counter and by the side of
Fannie, he made himself so useful that Monsieur Leroux would often
speculate as to the possibility of getting him for an assistant. This
also was Valentine's and Fannie's great ambition; but it was a vain
one, for his personal attendance was considered indispensable to his
master's comfort.
Valentine's standing order, upon these occasions of their night visits
to the town, was to be in waiting with the carriage for Mr. Waring at
twelve o'clock. And the man was obliged to be punctual, though he had
often to wait two or three hours for the coming of the master. And, as a
general fact, the longer Mr. Waring remained among his boon companions,
the more intoxicated he became; and when at last he appeared, all the
old humiliations and provocations of Valentine's former days were
renewed. You know what these were. It would be vain repetition to
describe them again.
All this was, in every respect, very trying to the poor boy. He
religiously adhered to his resolution of abstinence from all spirituous
liquors, and constantly and prayerfully struggled against the
ebullitions of his own impetuous temper. But the life he led acted
nearly fatally upon a very fragile organization; and all individuals of
antagonistically-mixed races are known to be frail. The continued loss
of rest, habitual irregularity in food and sleep, affectionate anxiety
upon account of his master, tender solicitude for his own gentle, little
wife, frequent and excessive provocation from Oswald, all combined to
wear and fret his originally excitable temperament to a state of
unnatural nervous irritability, that could scarcely sustain with
calmness the rudeness of the shocks to which, in his false position, he
was constantly exposed; and therefore he was very frequently--to use his
own expression at the "love feasts"--in great danger of falling from
grace.
Reflecting upon this portion of the poor, doomed boy's life;
recollecting the great, the almost superhuman struggle his spirit was
making against the terrible, combined powers of evil; of his discordant
organization; his fiery, impulsive temperament; his unfortunate
education; his unhappy position, and his exasperating surroundings, all
antagonistic, false and fateful, we find his parallel nowhere in modern
times, and are forced to think of the age of antiquity, and of those
mighty but ineffectual struggles of some foredoomed mortal, like
OEdipus, in the power of the angry Fates.
Upon poor Valentine's silent, deadly struggle, none but the pitying eye
of our Father looked. And nothing but a miracle could have averted its
final and fatal issue; and miracles are not wrought at the expense of
moral free agency. There came at last a day--an awful day--when the boy
spoke, and others heard, of that fell struggle with the powers of
darkness.
But we anticipate. The dark and trying seasons were relieved by brighter
ones, alternating like night and day.
The hours spent with Fannie, either in the gay, lighted shop, among a
thousand objects of taste and beauty, and occupations shared with her,
and congenial to his own aesthetic fancy, or in their little home, that,
despite of poverty, Fannie's taste had made beautiful, were seasons of
unclouded happiness, in which all care was forgotten.
There were sunny hours, also, when Mr. Waring's better nature was in the
ascendant; when he would feel like gratifying his own benevolence, and
making Valentine happy, by fair promises of making him free; of setting
him and Fannie up in the hair-dressing and fancy business, which he
would laughingly declare to be exactly suited to Valentine; that Val
could be the barber, and Fan the ladies' hair-dresser; and that they
could have a nice little house in an eligible street, with the dwelling
above, and the shop below. Thus he would talk, indulging his good humor
at the small expense of his breath, and amusing himself with noticing
the effect of his words upon Valentine's sensitive nature, playing upon
its chords of hope and fear, as if his heart had been a harp, and his
own the experimenting hand that tried its strings. Perhaps he intended
to realize, at some future day, these expectations that he raised; at
least, at the time of speaking he wished to please the boy by infusing a
hope; but, alas! he only disturbed him, by exciting and aggravating his
old passionate aspiration after liberty.
But, besides those happiest hours spent with Fannie, there were other
seasons of forgetfulness, and of almost unalloyed bliss. These were the
Sabbath services and the weekly meetings, where the ardent, zealous soul
of the young man found its expression in eloquence that reached the
hearts of all who heard him, either in exhortation or in prayer.
He was very much beloved by the brethren, and especially by the sisters,
of the Magnolia Grove Mission.
There was, however, two or three among the class-leaders who objected to
Valentine as being too much given to the vanities of this world, and who
found great stumbling blocks in Valley's shining, black ringlets, and
neat and even elegant dress. But as the fiend really did contrive to
find his way into sinless Eden, so jealousy might possibly have crept
into a "love feast" among Christian brethren and sisters; and
Valentine's beauty, grace, eloquence and consequent pre-eminence, among
the men, and popularity with the women, might have been the true ground
of offense to his less gifted brothers.
However that might be, Valentine, perceiving only the ostensible matter
of complaint, half resolved to give up his taste in dress and sacrifice
his cherished ringlets, and seriously consulted Fannie upon the subject.
But Fannie would not listen to such a proposition with a moment's favor,
and said that brother Portiphar and some of the others had such a grudge
against beauty that they would turn all the Lord's fair roses and lilies
into lobelia and rue, if they could. And Fannie's single opinion and
vote outweighed all the others, and Valentine's hyperion curls continued
to be an offense in Israel.
Thus passed the winter and spring. This first half year, with all its
shadows, was yet the fairest portion of the young pair's married life.
Toward its close clouds began to gather darkly and threateningly over
their heads.
In the early part of summer Fannie was necessitated to give up her
situation at Leroux's, and confine herself to such work as she could
perform in the privacy of her own room, such as fine sewing and fancy
work, which was not very lucrative; but even this resource in the course
of a few weeks had to be abandoned, for Fannie was unusually delicate,
and sadly needed rest and some one to take care of her for a while. And
just about this time, late in July, Mr. Waring made up his mind to go to
the North and spend the remainder of the summer in a tour among the
fashionable watering-places. Of course, he designed to take his servant
with him. In vain Valentine, hoping in the proverbial "good nature" of
his master, proffered his earnest request to be left behind, urging the
state of Fannie's health as the reason.
"Pooh, pooh, nonsense!" Mr. Waring could not spare the servant that was
used to his ways. Fannie must do without her husband, and take her
chance, as all those of her class had to do. Surely she must have known
what she had to expect when she married a slave man.
"And now, Valentine, don't bore me any longer with the subject. You were
a great fool to get married at all; and if you trouble me further, you
will make me regret ever having given my consent to that foolish
measure," concluded Mr. Waring.
Valentine controlled his own rebellious emotions, and leaving Fannie as
comfortable as under the circumstances he could make her, accompanied
his master to the North.
They visited first the Virginia Springs, then Niagara, Saratoga, Nahant,
and at the end of three months, returned home.
In close attendance upon his master, Valentine was obliged to pass
through M---- without stopping to see his wife.
But the next day, at his first disengaged hour, he set out for the city,
where he found Fannie the mother of a little girl of six weeks of age,
and reinstated in her former position at Leroux's.
Fannie was very happy, and gave a cheering account of all that had
occurred. Everybody had been very kind to her; the sisters of the church
had visited her often; Phaedra had been with her, and Madame Leroux had
made her many presents.
All this relieved and delighted the youthful husband and father; and
when he pressed his infant daughter to his bosom, he wept tears of joy
at the thought that her mother's heritage of freedom would be hers.
Some peaceful days followed this, in which Valentine, oblivious of every
cause of disquietude, enjoyed the perfection of domestic happiness.
Then, early in November, Mr. Waring determined to go to New Orleans, to
prosecute his acquaintance with a young widow, a native and resident of
that city, whom he had met at Saratoga, and with whom he had been very
much pleased. His servant was, of course, required to attend him, and
upon this occasion Valentine obeyed without a single demur.
On reaching New Orleans, Mr. Waring took rooms at the St. Charles Hotel.
Apparently his suit prospered, for their stay in that city was prolonged
through November and December. And Valentine had no opportunity of
visiting his girlish wife until after the new year.
Then Mr. Waring hastily, and in the highest spirits, returned home, to
settle up certain necessary business with his lawyer appertaining to
troublesome creditors, and give some commendable directions to his
housekeeper touching the rearrangement of his disorderly bachelor's
hall. This occupied two or three weeks, during which time Valentine,
when not in close attendance upon Mr. Waring, found opportunities to
visit his beloved Fannie, and caress the infant, of whom he was dotingly
fond.
The first of February Mr. Waring went again to New Orleans to meet his
engagement with Madam Moriere, his promised bride.
Their marriage was arranged to take place immediately, to save the delay
of the seven weeks of Lent, just at hand, and during which no strict
Catholic, such as madam professed to be, would dare to enter into the
"holy state" of matrimony.
Immediately after the ceremony, the newly-married couple set out on a
bridal tour.
Mr. Waring was attended by his favorite servant, and madam by her maid,
a French _grisette_, who "made eyes" at Valentine, and otherwise
harassed him with her coquetries during the whole journey. And this
conduct of Finette first suggested to Valentine's mind the probability
that, during his own enforced, long and frequent absences from home,
some one as unprincipled as Finette might be making love to his own
pretty Fannie, unprotected and exposed as she was in that French
hair-dressing establishment. Valentine might have been sure of that; but
Fannie, with her wise and affectionate consideration for him, had never
troubled the transient happiness of his sojourn with her by any
histories of the petty vexations that disturbed her own life during his
absence. Besides, Fannie, with all her innocence, was city bred, full of
experience and the wisdom it gives, and quite capable of taking care of
herself. And Valentine never would have dreamed of the possibility of
such annoyances for her had not the behavior of Mademoiselle Finette
made the suggestion. And now the thought gave his excitable heart a
great deal of disturbance, and made him very anxious to return home. Of
course, Valentine's impatience did not expedite that desired event.
The bridal party were absent six weeks, and finally reached home about
the middle of April--a most enchanting season in that climate,
corresponding in its advanced state of vegetation with our June, but
much more beautiful in the luxuriance and variety of its trees, shrubs,
vines, fruits and flowers, than any season in our latitude. The Red Hill
mansion was very lovely in its grove of magnolias. The internal
arrangement of the house reflected great credit upon Phaedra; and madam
condescended to express much satisfaction with her new home and her good
housekeeper.
As upon all former occasions, Valentine had been in too much
requisition, when they passed through M----, on their way home, to stop
and see Fannie; but the next morning Mr. Waring dispatched him to the
city to attend to the careful packing and sending out some baggage that
had been left, of necessity, the evening before, at the hotel.
And Valentine availed of that opportunity to visit his small family.
He found Fannie as pretty and as glad to see him as always, and his
little darling Coralie, now seven months old, more beautiful and
attractive than ever; but he could not linger with them; his duties to
his master obliged him, in less than an hour, to tear himself away again
and hasten with madam's trunks and boxes to Red Hill.
The necessity of leaving his treasures so soon again after so long an
absence depressed Valentine so much that Fannie hastened to console and
cheer him. He was not, after all, more unfortunate in that respect, she
said, than sailors and soldiers, nor was she more to be pitied than
their wives.
And she sent him off, comforted with the promise that she would get
leave from Leroux and come out the next morning with her baby to spend
the day with Phaedra at Red Hill.
Fannie kept her word, and, during her visit the next day won her way so
well into the good graces of madam that that lady expressed a kind
interest in her and her little child, made them some pretty presents,
and promised to facilitate as much as possible the frequent visits of
Valentine to his wife and child. And the lady remembered and performed
her promise so well that unusual indulgence was extended to Valentine,
who was by her intercession enabled to pass every night with his family.
Mr. Waring, in his attachment to his bride, seemed for the time quite
won from the extravagance and dissipation of his late bachelor life. He
remained at home and addressed himself with commendable zeal to the
management of his plantation, to the improvement of his land, his stock,
his machinery, and agricultural system in general, and also, after his
own blundering fashion, to the amelioration, comfort and welfare of his
people.
Valentine, no longer distressed for or by his master, divided his
attention between the manifold light duties that occupied him all day at
Red Hill, and the evenings spent in assisting Fannie in her business
behind the counter of Leroux's shop, and for which he now received a
regular payment, in consideration of the fact that he stood at the post
and performed the duties of Monsieur Leroux, whose age obliged him to
leave the shop at an early hour of the evening, just as the custom was
beginning to grow brisk. Thus they were enabled to add many little
comforts to their humble home, and also to lay up a trifle against the
chance of darker days.
Every alternate Sabbath they attended meeting together at Magnolia
Grove, and afterward dined with Phaedra at Red Hill, and went home at
night; and, on the intervening Sabbath, when there was no service at the
Grove Mission, Phaedra would come into town and go to church with the
children at the Bethel (colored) Mission of M----, and afterward take
dinner with them, before returning home in the evening.
Thus passed the halcyon days of spring, preceding the awful moral storm
which ended in that "household wreck."