"Such a house broke!
So noble a master fallen! all gone! and not
One friend, to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him." SHAKSPEARE.
_Wednesday, November 4th._
I have been to the little hut occupied by William Reynolds and family,
to see what had become of the children. Frank thinks it would be well to
put them to school. It shall be my care to provide them suitable
clothing. This, I can depend upon Miss Proctor to assist me in making
up.
We found the poor woman seated in an old rocking-chair, and looking very
miserable. Her husband beat her badly a few nights since, for
interfering, when he was, as he said, administering proper chastisement
to Willie. Since that time, she can hardly turn her head or see out of
one eye. Her nearest neighbor, hearing a great noise, ran to the house,
and secured William. The next day the same man brought a complaint
against the inebriate for abuse of wife and children, and for refusing
to provide for their support. He is now in the county jail, from which
he is to be carried to the House of Correction for three months.
In the midst of their poverty, the children are really uncommonly
prepossessing and intelligent. It is easy to see what they would have
been if nurtured in a home of competence and comfort. At the time we
entered, Anna was standing on an old stool behind her mother's chair,
trying to smoother out the long auburn tresses, and twist them under the
cap. I felt no repugnance to the act when I took the broken comb from
her hand, and made a beautiful knot at the back of her mother's head. I
then bathed her poor bruised temple; and promising to do something for
her immediate relief, we left her.
I have become much interested in the history of this unfortunate family.
Anna, the mother of my _protegés_, is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs.
Ryland who lived in Waverley. Anna was the elder of four children, two
of whom died in infancy, leaving only the subject of this sketch and
Edward her younger brother to crown the hopes of their afflicted
parents. Mr. Ryland was in the possession of a valuable farm, part of
which was left him by his parents; but which he had greatly enlarged and
improved by his own exertions. A new house had been erected on the site
of the old one, and everything in and about it exhibited the appearance
so common among the farmers of New England, of independence, comfort and
respectability.
Anna and her brother had been educated with care, and after enjoying and
improving the school advantages of the place, they had been sent in turn
to academies at a distance.
Early in life Anna had become attached and affianced to William
Reynolds, son of a neighboring farmer who was regarded as one of the
most intelligent and enterprising young men in Waverley. Certainly his
noble figure, and bright handsome face, made him a welcome guest, not
only at the Ryland farm, but in every place where he chose to visit.
Mr. and Mrs. Ryland looked upon William with no little pride as the
betrothed of their daughter, while she was at the same time the
admiration and envy of the young people of her acquaintance. William
Reynolds waited only long enough to be able to erect a neat comfortable
cottage upon a spot of ground in Crawford, which had been his
inheritance from his father's estate before he brought his Anna to be
its presiding genius.
With Anna, there came to Rose Cottage, as the young bride styled her new
home, wagon loads of the neatest of furniture purchased by her father.
From the neatly finished attic to the well stored cellar, each
apartment received its appropriate part of the new goods. White fringed
curtains nicely looped aside with ribbon, were hung in her spare
chamber, or the one set aside for company, while a gay carpet covered
the floor of the parlor. Beside these two rooms on the lower floor,
there was also a spacious kitchen, and a bed-room opening from it, which
they intended for their own use, while beyond was a large shed
connecting the house and barn. This, the neat housewife secretly
determined, should, at least in summer, serve them for a kitchen, so
that that apartment could be kept more tidy for the eating and sitting
room.
As soon as they were settled, Anna's brother Edward was to constitute a
part of their family. Not at all desirous to pursue the calling of his
father, Mr. Ryland wisely concluded to allow him to follow the bent of
his inclinations, justly supposing he would rise to greater usefulness
by so doing. It must be supposed, however, that it was no small
sacrifice for these excellent parents to part with their son from under
the parental roof when he obtained a situation in Crawford, even though
he would be under the care and influence of his sister.
Time passed on. The roses which had been transplanted from the old
place, and which had given the name to their home, grew as if by magic.
In his leisure hours, William under the direction of his tasteful wife,
had made trellises a few feet from the window; and now the luxurious
roses and vines almost reached the top. But within this sweet abode, in
a cradle which had rocked her own infancy, there was indeed a new blown
rose, unfolding its sweetness amidst the most tender care and love.
William, ever active and industrious, was accounted one of the most
thriving farmers in the place; while Anna by her neatness, and good
housewifery, had so won upon the good will of their employers, that
whoever else returned from market, heavily laden as they went, with
their own produce, William never failed to find customers, eager to
purchase at an advanced price Anna's butter and cheese.
But about this time a little cloud arose in their horizon. Edward, who
had been rapidly gaining upon the esteem and confidence of his
employers, was by the sudden death of the head of the firm, thrown out
of employment. His services however were eagerly sought as accountant,
and book-keeper, in the great warehouse connected with the distillery,
and belonging to Squire Lee. For a time nothing could be said but in
praise of the new clerk; and the old gentleman, warned by the early
dissipation of Joseph, that he could expect no aid from him, often
hinted to Edward the promise of rapid advancement. But after a few
months, Squire Lee noticed that Edward never tasted spirit of any kind;
and he vowed to himself that he would get rid of a fellow whose conduct
was a standing reproach to his own intemperance and to his business.
In fact, Ryland would have preferred a different situation, and had
inwardly determined never to be a partner in an employment he could not
approve. At that time, he did not realize as he did afterward, the curse
that would surely follow those who engaged in the manufacture and sale
of ardent spirits for unrighteous purposes. A great press of business
about this period, postponed both in master and clerk, the separation
contemplated.
Late one Saturday evening, Squire Lee visited his counting-room, where
Edward was busily employed in making up the accounts for the week, that
he might leave them in a state proper for inspection.
"That's a fine fellow!" said the Squire, clapping his clerk upon the
shoulder, after he had watched him turning over the journal and ledger,
and transferring accounts from one to another with great neatness and
despatch. "That's something like, now!"
Edward made a passing remark about the amount of business the past week,
and went on with his work.
"Yes," resumed the Squire, "that's exactly what I came to see you
about. We've engaged a large amount of rum, our very best, to go out
Monday morning; and as we shall make a great profit on it, I mustn't
disappoint the man. He wants it for a new tavern somewhere down in
----."
Edward looked from his work a moment, as the old gentleman continued, "I
know you like to go home and spend Sunday with the old folks. Some
bright eyes watching for you, I suppose," said he, with a leering
expression, and trying to be facetious, "but the fact is," bringing his
heavy fist down on the desk, "them bills of sale have got to be made
out; and you must give up going home this once, and take an extra day or
so another time to give your gal a ride."
Young Ryland quietly laid the books upon the table, and turning round to
look his employer full in the face, he said in a firm but respectful
tone, "Squire Lee, I will remain here until midnight, and return at the
same hour to-morrow night; but I have been taught to fear God and keep
his commandments; and nothing could induce me to violate the Sabbath in
the way you mention."
"Very well, sir," replied the Squire, in a voice of suppressed rage, "we
shall soon see how that is. Don't the Bible teach young men to obey
their masters?" he asked in a sneering tone. "Your parents had better
have taught you _that_ before they sent you here."
Edward stood perfectly calm and unmoved.
"If you don't recant, young fellow, and pretty quick too, you've earnt
the last dollar you'll ever earn in my store;" and with a horrible oath
he brought down his fist again upon the desk.
"In that respect, sir, I can never change," said young Ryland; "I have
endeavored faithfully to do my duty since I have been in your employ.
But, sir, to tell you the truth, I have stretched my conscience in your
service by consenting to be employed in an establishment where liquors
are manufactured; and it will be no disappointment to me to leave at
this time."
Squire Lee in a frenzy, turned upon Edward with uplifted arm to strike
him to the floor; but there was something in the expression of the young
man's eye, which had not for a moment quailed, that restrained him; and
he contented himself by pouring upon him a volley of abuse, intermingled
with oaths and curses, such as it made Edward shudder to hear. He calmly
turned, closed the books, placed them in the safe, passed the key to the
old gentleman, saying, "In a few moments the business for the week would
have been accounted for. I think you will find all correct, as far as I
had gone." He took his hat and left, before the Squire had recovered his
breath.
Whether the bills of sale were rendered in due season, or what he
thought of Edward's conduct at that time is not known; but it is certain
that after having in vain tried to fill Edward's place to his liking,
the Squire took pains to ride out to Rose Cottage. He inquired his
whereabouts, expressing a strong desire to get him back. "He was rather
too fanatical about his religion, and all that sort of stuff, but a
smarter, more faithful or accurate book-keeper I never had."
Mrs. Reynolds informed him that her brother, after leaving his store,
had obtained recommendations from individuals acquainted with him while
in the employ of the other firm, and had gone directly to New York,
where he had speedily procured employment.
Squire Lee was so much disappointed, that Mrs. Reynolds added, that she
would write to her brother whom it would be very pleasant to her to have
again in her family.
"Tell him," resumed the Squire, "that I will make his salary just what
he says."
This visit was the small cloud which gradually overspread the whole
horizon of the gentle Anna Reynolds. That night when her husband
returned home more than usually fatigued from his work, she communicated
to him the purpose of the Squire in his call, expressing at the same
time her conviction that her brother would never consent to return to
his employ.
"Why couldn't I get the situation?" flashed through William's mind, but
he said nothing to his wife until he had finished his out door work; and
Anna had soothed her baby to sleep, laid it in the cradle--swept the
hearth, and sat down to her sewing, with her foot upon the rocker.
"What are you thinking of, Willie?" she asked playfully. "You seem to be
looking as earnestly into the fire, as if you were expecting your new
cart and oxen to come walking out of it into the room."
William smiled as he turned to look at her; and after a moment's
hesitation said, "Wife, I've been thinking it all over, about what
Squire Lee said, and I've about come to the conclusion, to apply for the
situation myself. That is," he continued, seeing her look of
astonishment, "if Edward does not choose to come back."
Anna gazed intently at him for a moment, and then exclaimed, "William
Reynolds, I really believe you are going mad. Aren't you well?" she
asked, changing her tone.
William made a faint attempt to laugh as he said, "I expected you'd be
astonished at first; but the fact is, you know I haven't felt well
lately." Anna looked anxious, as this was the first intimation she had
received of his sickness. "And to tell the truth, I always thought it
was a foolish move in Edward to give up such a good place for so
trifling a matter, and it was so pleasant having him here."
"It was, indeed," replied Anna with a sigh.
"If the whole must be known," resumed William, "when I went to market,
and had been hawing and geeing all day, and called at the Squire's and
saw Edward sitting there so cozy and comfortable with nothing to do, but
just to write from morning till night; his salary sure, rain or shine,
crops good or bad; I almost envied him."
"But what could you do with the farm?" interrupted Anna.
"I could get a man to take care of it. There's Joe Clark would take it
to the halves, and be glad of the chance. I heard him talking so to a
man not more'n a week ago."
Anna, however, was not easily convinced of the wisdom of this new
movement; and it required all her husband's arguments to induce her to
consent to his making the trial, in case he succeeded in obtaining the
situation. He had when a boy, been at the head of the school in
book-keeping, and had often assisted Edward in his accounts when obliged
to be up late in the employment of the other firm. In representing to
his wife, all the inducements to quit the farm for the counting-room, he
did not mention the fact, that the hands employed by the firm, were
allowed free access to the barrels of New England rum and whisky, piled
up against the walls around the building. Indeed there were generally
kept kegs especially for their use; and for them to treat those who came
in upon business. It was during the frequent calls he had made upon
Edward, that he had imbibed a taste for ardent spirits. Perhaps he
thought this argument would not have much weight with his wife. Perhaps
he was not himself aware of its power over himself, nor of the strength
of his appetite.
True, it is, that having received a note from his brother-in-law,
positively declining the offer of the Squire, accompanied by a note
recommending him as competent to fill the place, and also a
recommendation from the teacher of the school where he learned the art,
Reynolds sallied forth in quest of Squire Lee. He did not think it
necessary to exhibit to that gentleman, neither did he intend to show
his wife, a kind note from Edward accompanying the other, begging him,
by every motive he could urge, to avoid a place so fraught with danger.
In the most brotherly manner, Edward told him that he had noticed with
fearful anticipations the relish with which, on occasions of his calls
at the distillery, he had accepted invitations to a glass from the
workmen. He also added, that since he had been in New York, he had
ascertained that public sentiment was farther advanced upon the subject
of intemperance than he had supposed, and that the distiller was
beginning to be regarded as an enemy to his brother man.
"If," he added at the close, "Squire Lee had proposed to take me as an
equal partner into the firm, instead of the offer he made, I would not
for an instant think of accepting it."
"All this was no doubt well meant in Edward," soliloquized William, as
he walked to the counting room; "but I always knew he was too stiff in
such matters; even Anna says that." But he could not help acknowledging
that his wife, and her parents would view the matter in the same light
as the writer, should they read the letter. So he considered it more
prudent to say nothing about it, as he had made up his mind to take the
situation if he could obtain it.
Unfortunately for him, and for all connected with him, he did obtain it,
and entered at once upon his new duties; Joe Clark taking his place on
the farm.
"Somehow," said Anna, "from the very first, everything seemed to go
behind hand. Joe was not so much interested, or at home on the farm as
my William; and then his pay had to come out of the produce, whether we
made little or much; and though my husband satisfied his employers, and
received a good salary, yet I didn't realize much help from it at the
cottage. It also weaned him from home, and got him in a way of staying
out very late at night; and at length _all was gone_; and he mortgaged
our beautiful home to the Squire, when Willie was a baby, telling me he
should soon work and get it back again. But every thing went and _went_,
until I and my babes moved to this old shanty, with little more of my
nice furniture than the bed on which I lie. Even this, I could have
borne, had my husband been left to me. I could work, I would do anything
for them; but I _have no husband_. A man calling himself William
Reynolds lives here; that is, when he is not off on a drunken frolic;
but he is not THE _William Reynolds_ I married."
It will be readily seen that though William and his wife were, at the
time of their living in Rose Cottage, moral, and upright in their
characters; yet they were not actuated by the religious principles which
were the governing motives of their brother's conduct. But it is to be
hoped, that the death of her parents, together with the sad change in
her own circumstances, had been blessed to the afflicted woman.
Certainly she has been most careful to instil religious principles into
the minds of her children.
"But where," I asked, "is Edward, her brother?"
"He has never been to Crawford since the death of his parents. William
was very angry at his brother's interference, as he termed it, in
matters which did not concern him; and Anna has not heard from him for
several years."