"This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have
walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds."
Macbeth.
The honeymoon was passed at Clawbonny, and many, many other honeymoons
that have since succeeded it. I never saw a man more delighted than Mr.
Hardinge was, at finding me actually his son-in-law. I really believed he
loved me more than he did Rupert, though he lived and died in ignorance of
his own son's true character. It would have been cruel to undeceive him;
and nothing particular ever occurred to bring about an _éclaircissement_.
Rupert's want of principle was a negative, rather than an active quality,
and was only rendered of account by his vanity and selfishness.
Self-indulgence was all he aimed at, and he was much too self-indulgent
and shrewd to become an active rogue. He would have spent Lucy's and my
joint fortunes, had they been put at his control; but, as they never were,
he was fain to limit his expenditures to such sums as we saw fit to give
him, with certain extra allowances extorted by his debts. Our intercourse
was very much restricted to visits of ceremony, at least on my part;
though Lucy saw him oftener; and no allusion was ever made to the past. I
called him "Mr. Hardinge" and he called me "Mr. Wallingford." "Rupert"
and "Miles" were done with for ever, between us. I may as well dispose of
the history of this person and his wife, at once; for I confess it gives
me pain to speak of them, even at this distance of time.
Rupert lived but four years, after my marriage to his sister. As soon as
he found it necessary to give up the Broadway house, he accepted the use
of Riversedge and his sister's $2000 a-year, with gratitude, and managed
to get along on that sum, apparently, down to the hour of his death. It is
true, that I paid his debts, without Lucy's knowledge, twice in that short
period; and I really think he was sensible of his errors, to a certain
extent, before his eyes were closed. He left one child, a daughter, who
survived him only a few months. Major Merton's complaints had carried him
off previously to this. Between this old officer and myself, there had
ever existed a species of cordiality; and I do believe he sometimes
remembered his various obligations to me and Marble, in a proper temper.
Like most officials of free governments, he left little or nothing behind
him; so that Mrs. Hardinge was totally dependent on her late husband's
friends for a support, during her widowhood. Emily was one of those
semi-worldly characters, that are not absolutely wanting in good
qualities, while there is always more or less of a certain disagreeable
sort of calculation in all they do. Rupert's personal advantages and
agreeable manners had first attracted her; and believing him to be Mrs.
Bradfort's heir, she had gladly married him. I think she lived a
disappointed woman, after her father's death; and I was not sorry when she
let us know that she was about to "change her condition," as it is termed
in widow's parlance, by marrying an elderly man, who possessed the means
of giving her all that money can bestow. With this second, or, according
to Venus's nomenclature, _step_-husband, she went to Europe, and there
remained, dying only three years ago, an amply endowed widow. We kept up a
civil sort of intercourse with her to the last, actually passing a few
weeks with her, some fifteen years since, in a house, half-barn,
half-castle, that she called a palace, on one of the unrivalled lakes of
Italy. As _la Signora Montiera,_ (Montier) she was sufficiently respected,
finishing her career as a dowager of good reputation, and who loved the
"pomps and vanities of this wicked world." I endeavoured, in this last
meeting, to bring to her mind divers incidents of her early life, but with
a singular want of success. They had actually passed, so far as her memory
was concerned, into the great gulf of time, keeping company with her sins,
and appeared to be entirely forgot. Nevertheless, la Signora was disposed
to treat me and view me with consideration, as soon as she found me living
in credit, with money, horses, and carriages at command, and to forget
that I had been only a skip-master. She listened smilingly, and with
patience, to what, I dare say, were my prolix narratives, though her own
recollections were so singularly impaired. She did remember something
about the wheelbarrow and the canal in Hyde Park; but as for the voyage
across the Pacific, most of the incidents had passed out of her mind. To
do her honour, Lucy wore the pearls, on an occasion in which she gave a
little _festa_ to her neighbours; and I ascertained she did remember them.
She even hinted to one of her guests, in my hearing, that they had been
intended for _her_ originally; but "we cannot command the impulses of the
heart, you know, _câra mia_," she added, with a very self-complacent sort
of a sigh.
What of all this? The _ci-devant_ Emily was no more than a summary of the
feelings, interests, and passions of millions, living and dying in a
narrow circle erected by her own vanities, and embellished by her own
contracted notions of what is the end and aim of human existence, and
within a sphere that _she_ fancied respectable and refined.
As for the race of the Clawbonnys, all the elderly members of this
extensive family lived and died in my service; or, it might be better to
say, I lived in theirs. Venus saw several repetitions of her own charms in
the offspring of Neb and Chloe, though she pertinaciously insisted to the
last, that Cupid, as a step-husband, had no legitimate connection with any
of the glistening, thick-lipped, chubby set. But, even closer family ties
than those which bound my slaves to me, are broken by the pressure of
human institutions. The conscript fathers of New York had long before
determined that domestic slavery should not continue within their borders;
and, one by one, these younger dependants dropped off, to seek their
fortunes in town, or in other portions of the State; until few were left
beside Neb, his consort, and their immediate descendants. Some of these
last still cling to me; the parents having instilled into the children, in
virtue of their example and daily discourse, feelings that set at naught
the innovations of a changeable state of society. With them, Clawbonny is
still Clawbonny; and I and mine remain a race apart in their perception of
things. I gave Neb and Chloe their freedom-papers, the day the faithful
couple were married, and at once relieved their posterity from the
servitude of eight-and-twenty, and five-and-twenty years, according to
sex, that might otherwise have hung over all their elder children, until
the law, by a general sweep, manumitted everybody. These papers Neb put in
the bottom of his tobacco-box, not wishing to do any discredit to a gift
from me; and there I accidentally saw them, in rags, seventeen years
later, not having been opened, or seen by a soul, as I firmly believe, in
all that time. It is true, the subsequent legislation of the State
rendered all this of no moment; but the procedure showed the character and
disposition of the man, demonstrating his resolution to stick by me to the
last. He has had no intention to free _me_, whatever may have been my
plans for himself and his race.
I never had more than one conversation with either Neb or his wife, on the
subject of wages, and then I discovered how tender a thing it was, with
the fellow, to place him on a level with the other hired people of my farm
and household.
"I won'er what I done, Masser Mile, dat you want to pay me wages, like a
hired man!" said Neb, half-disposed to resent, and half-disposed to grieve
at the proposal. "I was born in de family, and it seem to me dat quite
enough; but, if dat isn't enough, I went to sea wid you, Masser Mile, de
fuss day you go, and I go ebbery time since."
These words, uttered a little reproachfully, disposed of the matter. From
that hour to this, the subject of wages has never been broached between
us. When Neb wants clothes he goes and gets them, and they are charged to
"Masser Mile;" when he wants money he comes and gets it, never manifesting
the least shame or reluctance, but asking for all he has need of, like a
man. Chloe does the same with Lucy, whom she regards, in addition to her
having the honour to be my wife, as a sort of substitute for "Miss Grace."
With this honest couple, Mr. and Mrs. Miles Wallingford, of Clawbonny, and
Riversedge; and Union Place, are still nothing but "Masser Mile" and "Miss
Lucy;"--and I once saw an English traveller take out her note-book, and
write something very funny, I dare say, when she heard Chloe thus address
the mother of three fine children, who were hanging around her knee, and
calling her by that, the most endearing of all appellations. Chloe was
indifferent to the note of the traveller, however, still calling her
mistress "Miss Lucy," though the last is now a grandmother.
As for the children of the house of Nebuchadnezzar, truth compels me to
say, that they have been largely influenced by the spirit of the age, and
that they look on the relation that existed for more than a century,
between the Wallingfords and the Clawbonnys, with eyes somewhat different
from those of their parents. They have begun to migrate; and I am not
sorry to see them go. Notwithstanding, the tie will not be wholly broken,
so long as any of the older stock remain, tradition leaving many of its
traces among them. Not one has ever left my rule without my consent; and I
have procured places for them all, as ambition, or curiosity, has carried
them into the world.
As for this new spirit of the age that is doing so much among us, I am not
twaddler enough to complain of all change, for I know that many of these
changes have had the most beneficial effects. I am far from thinking that
domestic slavery, as it once existed at Clawbonny, is a picture of
domestic slavery as it existed throughout the land; but I do believe that
the institution, as it was formerly known in New York, was quite as much
to the disadvantage of the white man, as to that of the black. There was
always something of the patriarchal character in one of our households,
previously to the change in the laws; and the relation of master and
slave, in old, permanent families, in which plenty was no stranger, had
ever more or less of that which was respectable and endearing. It is not
so much in relation to the abolition spirit, (if it would only confine its
exertions to communities over which it may happen to possess some right of
control,) that I feel alarmed as in reference to a certain spirit, which
appears to think there always must be more and more change, and that in
connection with any specific interest, whatever may have been its
advancement under previous _régimes_; nothing in social life being fully
developed, according to the creed of these movement philosophers. Now, in
my view of the matter, the two most dangerous of all parties in a state,
are that which sets up conservatism as its standard, and that which sets
up progress: the one is for preserving things of which it would be better
to be rid, while the other crushes all that is necessary and useful in its
headlong course. I now speak of these opposing principles, as they are
marshalled in _parties_, opposition giving pertinacity and violence to
each. No sane man can doubt that, in the progress of events, much is
produced that ought to be retained, and much generated that it would be
wiser to reject. He, alone, is the safe and wise legislator, who knows
how, and when, to make the proper distinctions. As for conservatism,
Lafayette once characterized it excellently well, in one of his happiest
hits in the tribune. "Gentlemen talk of the just medium (_juste milieu_)"
he said, "as if it embraced a clear political creed. We all know what the
just medium is, as relates to any particular question; it is simply the
truth, as it is connected with that question. But when gentlemen say, that
they belong to the _juste milieu_, as a _party_, and that they intend to
steer a middle course in all the public events of the day, they remind me
of a case like this--A man of exaggerated notions lays down the
proposition that four and four make ten; another of more discretion and
better arithmetic combats this idea, by maintaining that four and four
make only eight; whereupon, your gentleman of the _juste milieu_, finds
himself obliged to say, 'Messieurs, you are equally in the wrong; the
truth never lies in extremes, and four and four make nine.'"
What is true of conservatism, as a principle, is still more true as to the
movement; for it often happens in morals, as well as in physics, that the
remedy is worse than the disease. The great evil of Europe, in connection
with interests of this nature, arises from facts that have little or no
influence here. There, radical changes have been made, the very base of
the social edifice having been altered, while much of the ancient
architecture remains in the superstructure. Where this is the case, some
errors may be pardoned in the artisans who are for reducing the whole to
the simplicity of a single order. But, among ourselves, the man who can
see no end to anything earthly, ever maintaining that the best always lies
beyond, if he live long enough to succeed, may live long enough to
discover that truth is always on an eminence, and that the downward course
is only too easy to those who rush in so headlong a manner at its goal, as
to suffer the impetus of the ascent to carry them past the apex. A social
fact cannot be carried out to demonstration like a problem in Euclid, the
ramifications being so infinite as to reduce the results to something very
like a conclusion from a multitude of interests.
It is next incumbent to speak of Marble. He passed an entire month at
Clawbonny, during which time he and Neb rigged the Grace and Lucy, seven
different ways, coming back to that in which they found her, as the only
rig in which she would sail; no bad illustration, by the way, of what is
too often the winding up of experiments in overdone political movements.
Moses tried shooting, which he had heard belonged to a country life; and
he had a sort of design to set up as a fourth or fifth class country
gentleman; but his legs were too short to clamber over high rail-fences
with any comfort, and he gave up the amusement in despair. In the course
of a trial of ten days, he brought in three robins, a small squirrel, and
a crow; maintaining that he had also wounded a pigeon, and frightened a
whole flock of quails. I have often bagged ten brace of woodcocks of a
morning, in the shooting-grounds of Clawbonny, and as many quails in
their season.
Six weeks after our marriage, Lucy and I paid Willow Cove a visit, where
we passed a very pleasant week. To my surprise, I received a visit from
Squire Van Tassel, who seemed to bear no malice. Marble made peace with
him, as soon as he paid back the amount of his father's bond, principal
and interest, though he always spoke of him contemptuously to me in
private. I must confess I was astonished at the seemingly forgiving temper
of the old usurer; but I was then too young to understand that there are
two principles that govern men's conduct as regards their associations;
the one proceeding from humility and Christian forgiveness, and the other
from an indifference to what is right. I am afraid the last produces more
of what is called a forgiving temper than the first; men being often
called vindictive, when they are merely honest.
Marble lost his mother about a twelvemonth after we returned from our
unfortunate voyage in the Dawn. A month or two earlier, he lost his niece,
little Kitty, by a marriage with the son of 'neighbour Bright.' After
this, he passed much of his time at Clawbonny, making occasional visits to
us, in Chamber street, in the winter. I say in Chamber street, as trade
soon drove us out of Lucy's town residence in Wall street. The lot on
which the last once stood is still her property, and is a small fortune of
itself. I purchased and built in Chamber street, in 1805, making an
excellent investment. In 1825, we went into Bleecker street, a mile higher
up town, in order to keep in the _beau quartier;_ and I took advantage of
the scarcity of money and low prices of 1839, to take up new ground in
Union Place, very nearly a league from the point where Lucy commenced as a
house-keeper in the good and growing town of Manhattan.
After Marble found himself an orphan again, he complained that he was
little better off than a 'bloody hermit' at Willow Cove, and began to talk
about seeing the world. All of a sudden, he made his appearance at
Clawbonny, bag and baggage, and announced an intention to look for a
mate's berth, in some East Indiaman. I heard his story, kept him a day or
two with me, while I superintended the masons who were building _my_
addition to the house, which was then nearly-completed, and then we
proceeded to town in company. I took Moses to the ship-yards, and carried
him on board a vessel that was just receiving her spars, (she was coppered
and copper-fastened, A. No. 1, of live-oak frame, and southern pine decks,
&c.,) asking him how he liked her. He hoped she had a good name. "Why, she
is called the Smudge," I answered. "I hope you fancy it." Moses jerked a
finger over his shoulder, as much as to say he understood me, and inquired
where I intended to send the craft. "To Canton, with you for master." I
saw that my old mate was touched with this proof of confidence, and that
his self-esteem had so much risen with the discovery of his origin that he
made no objections to the trust. I did not intend to go regularly into
commerce, but I kept the Smudge running many years, always under Marble,
and made a vast deal of money by her. Once she went to Europe, Lucy and I
going in her as passengers. This was after the death of my dear old
guardian, who made such an end, as became his virtuous and Christian life.
We, that is Lucy and I, remained abroad several years, returning home in
the Smudge, on the last voyage she ever made as belonging to me. Neb had
often been out in the ship, just to vary the scene; and he came to Havre
in her, as a matter of course, when 'Masser Mile,' 'Miss Lucy,' and their
two 'young Massers,' and two 'young Missuses,' were ready to come home. I
was a good deal shocked at meeting my old friend, Moses, on this
occasion, for he was breaking up fast, being now hard on upon seventy; a
time of life when most seamen are unfit for their calling. Moses, however,
had held on, with a determination to convey us all back to Clawbonny.
Three days after we had sailed, the man of stone had to give up, and take
to his berth. I saw that his days were numbered, and felt it to be a duty
to let him know his real situation. It was an unpleasant office, but
became less so by the resigned and manly manner in which the invalid heard
me. It was only when I ceased speaking, that he made an attempt to reply.
"I have known that the v'y'ge of life was pretty near up, Miles," he then
answered, "for many a day. When the timbers complain and the new
tree-nails hit only decayed wood, it is time to think of breaking up the
hull for the craft's copper, and old iron. I've pretty much worn out the
Smudge, and the Smudge has pretty much worn out me. I shall never see
Ameriky, and I now give up charge of the craft to you. She is your own,
and nobody can take better care of her. I own I should like to be cased in
something that once belonged to her. There's the bulk-head that was taken
down, to alter the state-rooms for your family--it would make as
comfortable a coffin as a body could want."
I promised the old man all should be done, as he desired. After a short
pause, it struck me the present might be a favourable moment to say a ward
on the subject of the future. Marble was never a vicious man, nor could he
be called a particularly wicked man, as the world goes. He was thoroughly
honest, after making a few allowances for the peculiar opinions of seamen,
and his sins were principally those of omission. But, of religious
instruction he had literally known none, in early life. That which he had
picked up in his subsequent career, was not of the most orthodox
character. I had often thought Marble was well disposed on such subjects,
but opportunity was always wanting to improve this hopeful disposition.
Accordingly, I now spoke plainly to him, and I could see his still keen
eyes turned wistfully towards me, more than once, as he listened with an
absorbed attention.
"Ay, ay, Miles," he answered, when I was through, "this may all be true
enough, but it's rather late in the day for me to go to school. I've heard
most of it before, in one shape or another, but it always came so much in
scraps and fragments, that before I could bend one idee on to another, so
as to make any useful gear of the whole, some of the pieces have slipped
through my fingers. Hows'ever, I've been hard at work at the good book, the
whole of this v'y'ge, and you know it's been a long one; and I must say
that I've picked up a good deal that seems to me to be of the right
quality. Now I always thought it was one of the foolishest things a man
could do, to forgive one's enemies, my rule having been to return
broadside for broadside, as you must pretty well know; but, I now see that
it is more like a kind natur' to pardon, than to revenge."
"My dear Moses, this is a very hopeful frame of mind; carry out this
feeling in all things, leaning on the Saviour alone for your support, and
your dying hour may well be the happiest of your life."
"There's that bloody Smudge, notwithstanding; I hardly think it will be
expected of me to look upon him as anything but a 'long-shore pirate, and
a fellow to be disposed of in the shortest way possible. As for old Van
Tassel, he's gone to square the yards in a part of the univarse where all
his tricks will be known; and I hold it to be onreasonable to carry spite
ag'in a man beyond the grave. I rather think I have altogether forgiven
him; though, to speak the truth, he desarved a rope's-ending."
I understood Marble much better than he understood himself. He felt the
sublime beauty of the Christian morality, but, at the same time, he felt
there were certain notions so rooted in his own heart, that it exceeded
his power to extract them. As for Smudge, his mind had its misgivings
concerning the propriety of his own act, and, with the quickness of his
nature, sought to protest itself against its own suggestions, by making an
exception of that wretch, as against the general mandates of God. Van
Tassel he probably could, in a manner, pardon, the mischief having been in
a measure repaired; though it was a forgiveness that was strangely
tinctured with his own deep contempt for the meanness of the transgressor.
Our conversation lasted a long time. At length Lucy joined in it, when I
thought it wisest to leave the old tar in the hands of one so well fitted
by nature and education to be the instrument, under the providence of God,
of bringing him to a more healthful view of his condition. I had the ship
to take care of, and this was a good excuse for not interfering much with
what passed between the dying man and her who might almost be termed his
ministering angel. I overheard many of their conferences, and was present
at some of their prayers, as were my sons and daughters; being thus
enabled to understand the progress that was made, and the character of the
whole procedure.
It was an admirable sight, truly, to see that still lovely woman, using
all the persuasion of her gentle rhetoric, all the eloquence of her warm
feelings and just mind, devoting herself for days and days, to the labour
of leading such a spirit as that of Marble's to entertain just and humble
view's of his own relation to the Creator and his Son, the Saviour of men.
I will not say that complete success crowned the pious efforts of the
single-hearted woman it was my blessed fortune to call my wife: this,
perhaps, was not to be expected. It required a power exceeding hers to
guide the human heart at seventy, after a seaman's life, to a full
repentance of its sins; but, by the grace of God, so much seemed to be
accomplished, as to give us all reason to hope that the seed had taken
root, and that the plant might grow under the guidance of that Spirit in
whose likeness the most lowly of the race has been created.
The passage was long, but very tranquil, and there was ample time for all
that has been related. The ship was still to the eastward of the Grand
Banks, when Marble ceased to converse much; though it is evident his
thoughts were intently musing. He fell away fast, and I began to look
forward to his final departure, as an event that might occur at any hour.
He did not seem to suffer, but his hold of life gradually gave way, and
the spirit was about to take its departure, purely on account of the
decayed condition of the earthly tenement in which it had so long dwelt,
as the stork finally deserts the tottering chimney.
About a week after this change, my son Miles came to me on deck, and
informed me his dear mother desired to see me in the cabin. On going
below, I was met by Lucy, with a face that denoted how solemn she felt
was the character of the intelligence she had to communicate.
"The moment is at hand, dear Miles," she said.--"Our old friend is about
to be called away."
I felt a pang at this speech, though I had long expected the result. Many
of the earlier and more adventurous years of my life passed rapidly in
review before me, and I found the image of the dying man blended with
nearly all. Whatever may have been his peculiarities, to me he had always
been true. From the hour when I first shipped, as a runaway boy, on board
the John, down to that hour, Moses Marble had proved himself a firm and
disinterested friend to Miles Wallingford.
"Is he conscious?" I asked, anxiously. "When I last saw him, I thought his
mind wandered a little."
"Perhaps it did; but he is now more collected, if not entirely so. There
is reason to think he has at length felt some of the influence of the
Redeemer's sacrifice. For the last week, the proofs of this have been
increasing."
No more passed between Lucy and me, on the subject, at that time; but I
entered the cabin in which the cot of Marble had been slung. It was a
spacious, airy room, for a ship; one that had been expressly fitted by my
orders, for the convenience of Lucy and her two daughters, but which those
dear, self-denying creatures had early and cheerfully given up to the
possession of their old friend.
As yet, I have not particularly spoken of these two girls, the eldest of
whom was named Grace, and the youngest Lucy. At that time, the first was
just fifteen, while her sister was two years younger. By a singular
coincidence, Grace resembled the women of my family most; while the
latter, the dear, ingenuous, frank, pretty little thing, had so much
likeness to her mother, when at the same time of life, that I often caught
her in my arms, and kissed her, as she uttered some honest sentiment, or
laughed joyously and melodiously, as had been the practice of her who bore
her, twenty years before. On those occasions, Lucy would smile, and
sometimes a slight blush would suffuse her face; for I could see she well
understood the impulse which would so suddenly carry me off to the days of
my boyhood and boyish affection.
On the present solemn occasion both the girls were in the cabin,
struggling to be calm, and doing all that lay in their power to solace the
dying man. Grace, the oldest, was the most active and efficient, of
course, her tender years inducing diffidence in her sister; still, that
little image of her mother could not be kept entirely in the back-ground,
when the heart and the desire to be useful were urging her to come out of
herself, in order to share in her sister's duties.
I found Marble quite sensible, and the anxious manner in which he slowly
examined all the interested faces that were now gathered about his bed,
proved how accurately he noted the present and the absent. Twice did he go
over us all, ere he spoke in the husky tones that usually precede death--
"Call Neb," he said--"took leave of my mates, and of all the rest of the
men, yesterday; but I consider Neb as one of the family, Miles, and left
him for the last."
This I knew to be true, though I purposely absented myself from a scene
that I well understood would have to be repeated in my case. Neb was
summoned accordingly, not a syllable being uttered among us, until the
black stood just without the circle of my own wife and children. Moses
watched the arrangement jealously, and it seems he was dissatisfied at
seeing his old shipmate keeping so much aloof at that solemn and
absorbing moment.
"You are but a nigger, I know, Neb," the old seaman got out, "but your
heart would do honour to a king. It's next to Miles's, and that's as much
as can be said of any man's. Come nearer, boy; none here will grudge you
the liberty."
Little Lucy drew back in an instant, and fairly pulled Neb into the place
she herself had just before occupied.
"Bless you for that, young 'un," said Marble. "I didn't know your mother
when she was of your age, but I can see that one cat-block is not more
like another than you are like what she was at your age; keep that
likeness up, my dear, and then your father will be as happy and fortunate
in his darter as he has been in his wife. Well, nobody desarves his luck
better than Miles--Providential luck, I mean, my dear madam Wallingford,"
interpreting a sorrowful expression of Lucy's eyes aright; "for, thanks to
your teaching, I now understand there is a divine director of all our
fortins, whether ashore, or afloat, black or white."
"There is not a sparrow falls, Captain Marble," said the gentle, earnest
voice of my wife, "that he does not note it."
"Yes, so I understand it, now, though once I thought little of such
things. Thus, when we were wracked in the Dawn, Neb, it was by God's will,
and with a design, like, to bring us three all on to our present fortin,
and present frame of mind; should I ever use the word luck, ag'in, which I
may be likely enough to do from habit, you are all to understand I mean
what I call Providential luck. Yes, madam Wallingford, I comprehend it
parfectly, and shall never forget _your_ kindness, which has been to me
the best turn of Providential luck that has ever happened. I've sent for
you, Neb, to have a parting word, and to give you the advice of an old man
before I quit this world altogether."
Neb began to twist his fingers, and I could see tears glistening in his
eyes; for his attachment to Marble was of very long standing and of proof.
When men have gone through, together, as much as we three had experienced
in company, indeed, the most trifling griefs of everyday life get to
appear so insignificant, that our connection seems to be one of a nature
altogether stronger than the commoner ties.
"Yes, sah, Cap'in Marble, sah; what please to be your wish, sah?" asked
the negro, struggling to subdue his grief.
"To say a few words of advice, Neb, to take leave of my friends, and then
to be struck off the shipping articles of life. Old age and hard sarvice,
Neb, has made me veer cable to the better end. The stopper is working
loose, and a few more surges will leave the hulk adrift. The case is
different with you, who are in your prime,--and a prime chap be you, on a
yard or at the wheel. My parting advice to you, Neb, is, to hold out as
you've begun. I don't say you're without failin's, (what nigger is?) but
you're a good fellow, and as sartain to be found in your place as the
pumps. In the first place, you're a married man; and, though your wife is
only a negress, she's your wife, and you must stick to her through thick
and thin. Take your master as an example, and obsarve how he loves and
cherishes your mistress," [here Lucy pressed, gently, closer to my side;]
"and then, as to your children, bring 'em up according' to the advice of
Madam Wallingford. You can never sail under better instructions than hern,
as I know, by experience. Be particular to make that Hector of yours knock
off from swearing: he's begun, and what's begun in sin is pretty sartain
to have an indin'. Talk to him, first, and, if that won't do, rope's-end
it out of him. There's great vartue in ratlin stuff, among boys. As for
yourself, Neb, hold on as you have begun, and the Lord will have marcy on
you, before the v'y'ge is up."
Here Marble ceased from exhaustion; though he made a sign to Neb not to
move, as he had more to say. After resting a little, he felt under his
pillow, whence he produced a very old tobacco-box, fumbled about until he
had opened it, took a small bite, and shut the box again. All this was
done very slowly, and with the uncertain, feeble movements of a dying man.
When the lid was replaced, Marble held the box towards Neb, and resumed
his address.
"Use that for my sake, Neb," he said. "It is full of excellent tobacco,
and the box has the scent of thirty years in it--that being the time it
has sailed in my company. That box has been in nine fights, seven wracks,
and has seen more boat-sarvice than most London watermen, or any
Whitehaller of 'em all. Among other explites, it has been round the world
four times, besides having run the Straits of Magellan in the dark, as
might be; as your master and you know as well as I do. Take that box,
therefore, lad, and be particular, always, to put none but the best of
pig-tail in it--for it's used to that only. And now, Neb, a word about a
little duty you're to do for me, when you get in. Ask your master, first,
for leave, and then go up to Willow Cove, and carry my blessin' to Kitty
and her children. It's easy done, if a man sets about it in the right
spirit. All you have to do is to go up to the Cove, and say that I prayed
to God to bless 'em all, before I died. Do you think you can
remember that?"
"I try, Cap'in Marble, sah--yes, sah, I try all I can, dough I'm no
scholar."
"Perhaps you had better confide this office to me," said the musical
voice of my wife.
Marble was pleased, and he seemed every way disposed to accept the offer.
"I didn't like to trouble you so much," he answered, "though I feel
grateful for the offer. Well, then, Neb, you may leave the blessin'
unsaid, as your mistress is so kind--hold on a bit: you can give it to
Chloe and her little family; all but Hector, I mean--but not to him,
unless he knocks off swearing! As soon as he does that, why let him have
his share. Now, Neb, give me your hand. Good bye, boy: you've been true to
me, and God bless you for it. You are but a nigger, I know; but there's
One in whose eyes your soul is as precious as that of many a prince
and priest."
Neb shook hands with his old commander, broke out of the circle, rushed
into the steerage, and blubbered like a baby. In the meantime Marble
paused to recover his own self-possession, which had been a little
disturbed by the feeling manifested by the black. As soon as he felt
himself a little composed, he hunted about his cot until he found two
small paper boxes, each of which contained a very pretty ring, that it
seemed he had purchased for this express purpose when last in port. These
rings he gave to my daughters, who received the presents sobbing, though
with strong natural exhibitions of the friendly sentiments they
entertained for him.
"Your father and I have gone through many hardships and trials together,"
he said, "and I love you all even more than I love my own relations. I
hope this is not wrong, madam Wallingford, for it's out of my power to
help it. I've already given my keep-sakes to the boys, and to your
parents, and I hope all of you will sometimes remember the poor old
sea-dog that God, in his wisdom, threw like a waif in your way, that he
might be benefited by your society. There's your polar star, young 'uns,"
pointing to my wife. "Keep God in mind always, and give to this righteous
woman the second place in your hearts; not that I say a word, or think
anything ag'in your father, who's a glorious fellow in his way, but, a'ter
all, young women should copy a'ter their mothers, when they've such a
mother as your'n, the best of fathers fallin' far astern, in gentleness and
other vartues."
The girls wept freely, and Marble, after waiting a few minutes took a
solemn leave of all my children, desiring everybody but Lucy and myself
to quit the cabin. An hour passed in discourse with us two, during which
Moses frequently exhorted me to give ear to the pious counsels of my wife,
for he manifested much anxiety for the future welfare of my soul.
"I've generalized a great deal over that affair of Smudge, the whole of
this v'y'ge," he continued, "and I've had sore misgivings consarning the
explite. Madam Wallingford, however, has eased my mind on that score, by
showing me how to lay the burthen of this, with all the rest of the load
of my sins, on the love of Christ. I am resigned to go, Miles, for it is
time, and I'm getting to be useless. It's wicked to wish to run a ship
after her frame has worked loose, and nothing now fastens me to life but
you. I own it's hard to part, and my mind has had some weakness on the
matter. However, Miles, my dear boy, for boy you are still in my eyes,
there is comfort in looking ahead. Go by your wife's rules, and when the
v'y'ge is up, we shall all find ourselves in the same haven."
"It gives me much happiness, Moses, to find you in this frame of mind," I
answered. "Since you must quit us, you will not leave one behind of the
name of Wallingford, that will not rejoice at this prospect for the
future. As for your sins, God has both the power and the will to lighten
you of their weight, when he finds you disposed to penitence, and to make
use of the mediation of his blessed Son. If there is anything you desire
to have done, hereafter, this is a very proper time to let me know it."
"I've made a will, Miles, and you'll find it in my desk. There are some
trifles given to you and yourn, but you want not gold, and the rest all
goes to Kitty and her children. There is a p'int, however, on which my
mind is very ondetarmined, and I will now lay it before you. Don't you
think it more becoming for a seaman to be buried in blue water, than to be
tuck'd up in a church-yard? I do not like tombstones, having had too much
of them in 'arly youth, and feel as if I want sea-room. What is your
opinion, Miles?"
"Decide for yourself. Your wishes will be our law."
"Then roll me up in my cot, and launch me overboard, in the old way. I
have sometimes thought it might be well to lie at my mother's side; but
she'll excuse an old tar for preferring blue water to one of your country
church-yards."
After this, I had several interviews with the old man, though he said
nothing more on the subject of his interment, that of his property, or
that of his departure. Lucy read the bible to him, two or three times
every day, and she prayed with him often. On one occasion, I heard a low,
sweet voice, near his cot, and taking a look, ascertained it was my little
pet, my daughter Lucy, then only thirteen, reading a second time a chapter
that her mother had gone through, only an hour before, with some of her
own remarks. The comments were wanting now, but the voice had the same
gentle earnestness, the same sweet modulations, and the same impressive
distinctness as that of the mother!
Marble lived until we had passed within the Gulf-Stream, dying easily and
without a groan, with all my family, Neb and the first-mate, assembled
near his cot. The only thing that marked his end was a look of singular
significance that he cast on my wife, not a minute before he breathed his
last. There he lay, the mere vestige of the robust hardy seaman I had once
known, a child in physical powers, and about to make the last great
change. Material as were the alterations in the man, from what he had been
when in his pride, I thought the spiritual or intellectual part of his
being was less to be recognised than the bodily. Certainly that look was
full of resignation and hope; and we had reason to believe that this rude
but honest creature was spared long enough to complete the primary object
of his existence.
In obedience to his own earnest request, though sorely against the
feelings of my wife and daughters, I buried the body of my old friend in
the ocean, six days before we made the land.
And now it remains only to speak of Lucy. I have deferred this agreeable
duty to the last, passing over long years that were pregnant with many
changes, in order to conclude with this delightful theme.
The first few years of my married life were years of bliss to me. I lived
under a constant sense of happiness; a happiness that man can derive only
from a union with a woman of whom his reason and principles as much
approve, as his tastes and passion cherish. I do not mean to be
understood that the years which have succeeded were a whit less happy;
for, in a certain sense, they have been more so, and have gone on
increasing in happiness down to the present hour, but because time and use
finally so far accustomed me to this intimate connection with purity,
virtue, female disinterestedness and feminine delicacy, that I should have
missed them, as things incorporated with my very existence, had I been
suddenly deprived of my wife, quite as much as in the first years of my
married life, I enjoyed them as things hitherto unknown to me.
As I ride over the fields of Clawbonny, even at this day, I recall with
tranquil delight, and I trust with humble gratitude, the manner in which
those blessed early years of our marriage passed. That was the period when
every thought of mine was truly shared by Lucy. She accompanied me in my
daily rides or drives, and listened to every suggestion that fell from my
lips, with kind interest and the most indulgent attention, rendering me
back thought for thought, feeling for feeling, laugh for laugh; and,
occasionally, tear for tear. Not an emotion could become aroused in my
breast that it did not meet with its reflection in her's; or a sense of
the ludicrous be awakened, that her keen but chastened humour did not
increase its effect by sympathy. Those were the years in which were
planned and executed the largest improvements for the buildings,
pleasure-grounds, and fields of Clawbonny. We built extensively, not only
out-houses and stables better suited to our present means, and more
enlarged mode of living, than those which existed in my father's time,
but, as has been stated before, we added to the dwelling, preserving its
pleasing confusion and irregularity of architecture. After passing the
first summer which succeeded our marriage in this manner, I told Lucy it
was time to stop building and improving my own place, in order that some
attention might be bestowed on that she had inherited from Mrs. Bradfort,
and which was also old family property.
"Do not think of it, Miles," she said. "Keep Riversedge in good order, and
no more. Rupert," who was then living, and in possession, "will see that
nothing goes to waste; but Clawbonny, dear Clawbonny, is the true home of
a Wallingford--and I am now a Wallingford, you will remember. Should this
precious boy of ours live to become a man, and marry, the old West-Chester
property can be used by him, until we are ready to give him up
possession, here."
This plan has not been literally carried out; for Miles, my eldest son,
lives with us at Clawbonny, in the summer; and his noisy boys are at this
moment playing a game of ball in a field that has been expressly devoted
to their amusements.
The period which succeeded the first half-dozen years of my union with
Lucy, was not less happy than the first had been; though it assumed a new
character. Our children then came into the account, not as mere
playthings, and little beings to be most tenderly loved and cared for, but
as creatures that possess the image of God in their souls, and whose
future characters, in a measure, depended on our instruction. The manner
in which Lucy governed her children, and led them by gentle means to
virtue and truth, has always been a subject of the deepest admiration and
gratitude with me. Her rule has been truly one of love. I do not know that
I ever heard her voice raised in anger, to any human being, much less to
her own offspring; but whenever reproof has come, it has come in the
language of interest and affection, more or less qualified by severity, as
circumstances may have required. The result has been all that our fondest
hopes could have led us to anticipate.
When we travelled, it was with all our young people, and a new era of
happiness, heightened by the strongest domestic affection, opened on us.
All who have seen the world have experienced the manner in which our
intellectual existences, as it might be, expand; but no one, who has not
experienced it, can tell the deep, heartfelt satisfaction there is, in
receiving this enlargement of the moral creature, in close association
with those we love most on earth. The manner in which Lucy enjoyed all she
saw and learned, on our first visit to the other hemisphere; her youngest
child--all four of our children were born within the first eight years of
our marriage--her youngest child was then long past its infancy, and she
had leisure to enjoy herself, in increasing the happiness of her
offspring. She had improved her mind by reading; and her historical lore,
in particular, was always ready to be produced for the common advantage.
There was no ostentation in this; but everything was produced just as if
each had a right to its use. Then it was, I felt the immense importance of
having a companion, in an intellectual sense, in a wife. Lucy had always
been intelligent; but I never fully understood her superiority in this
respect, until we travelled together, amid the teeming recollections and
scenes of the old world. That America is the greatest country of ancient
or modern times, I shall not deny. Everybody says it; and what everybody
says, must be true. Nevertheless, I will venture to hint, that, _cæteris
paribus_, and where there is the disposition to think at all, the
intellectual existence of every American who goes to Europe, is more than
doubled in its intensity. This is the country of action, not of thought,
or speculation. Men _follow_ out their facts to results, instead of
_reasoning_ them out. Then, the multiplicity of objects and events that
exist in the old countries to quicken the powers of the mind, has no
parallel here. It is owing to this want of the present and the past, which
causes the American, the moment he becomes speculative, to run into the
future. That future promises much, and, in a degree, may justify the
weakness. Let us take heed, however, that it do not lead to
disappointment.
After all, I have found Lucy the most dear to me, and the most valuable
companion, since we have both passed the age of fifty. Air is not more
transparent, than her pure mind, and I ever turn to it for counsel,
sympathy, and support, with a confidence and reliance that experience
could alone justify. As we draw nearer to the close of life, I find my
wife gradually loosening the ties of this world, her love for her husband
and children excepted, and fastening her looks on a future world. In thus
accomplishing, with a truth and nature that are unerringly accurate, the
great end of her being, nothing repulsive, nothing that is in the least
tinctured with bigotry, and nothing that is even alienated from the
affections, or her duties in life, is mingled with her devotion. My
family, like its female head, has ever been deeply impressed by religion;
but it is religion in its most pleasing aspect; religion that has no taint
of puritanism, and in which sin and innocent gaiety are never confounded
It is the most cheerful family of my acquaintance; and this, I must
implicitly believe, solely because, in addition to the bounties it enjoys,
under the blessing of God, it draws the just distinction between those
things that the word of God has prohibited, and those which come from the
excited and exaggerated feelings of a class of theologians, who,
constantly preaching the doctrine of faith, have regulated their moral
discipline solely, as if, in their hearts, they placed all their reliance
on the efficacy of a school of good works that has had its existence in
their own diseased imaginations. I feel the deepest gratitude to Lucy for
having enstilled the most profound sense of their duties into our
children, while they remain totally free from cant, and from those
exaggerations and professions which so many mistake for piety of purer
emanation.
Some of my readers may feel a curiosity to know how time has treated us
elderly people, for elderly we have certainly become. As for myself, I
enjoy a green old age, and I believe look at least ten years younger than
I am. This, I attribute to temperance and exercise. Lucy was positively an
attractive woman until turned of fifty, retaining even a good deal of her
bloom down to that period of life. I think her handsome still; and old
Neb, when in a flattering humour, is apt to speak of either of my
daughters as his "handsome young missus," and of my wife as his "handsome
ole missus."
And why should not Lucy Hardinge continue to retain many vestiges of those
charms which rendered her so lovely in youth? Ingenuous, pure of mind,
sincere, truthful, placid and just, the soul could scarcely fail to
communicate some of its blessed properties to that countenance which even
now so sensitively reflects its best impulses. I repeat, Lucy is still
handsome, and in my eyes even her charming daughters are less fair. That
she has so long been, and is still my wife, forms not only the delight but
the pride of my life. It is a blessing, for which, I am not ashamed to
say, I daily render thanks to God, on my knees.
The End.
End of Project Gutenberg's Miles Wallingford, by James Fenimore Cooper