THE NEW HOME.
With these revived suspicions, half stifled, but still struggling in
my bosom, did I commence my journey for the West. My arrangements were
comprehensive, but simple. I had procured a second-hand travelling
carriage and fine pair of horses from an acquaintance, at a very
moderate price--a price which, I well knew, I should easily get for them
again on reaching my place of destination. I was my own driver. I had
no money to spare in purchasing what might be dispensed with. A single
trunk contained all the necessary luggage of my wife and self. What was
not absolutely needed by the wayside was sent on by water. This included
my books, desks, Julia's painting materials, and such other articles
of the household, as were of cost and not bulky. I had previously
written--as I may have stated already--to my friend Kingsley. He was to
procure me temporary lodgings in the town of M---. I left much to his
judgment and experience. He had once before been in Alabama and having
interests there, had made himself familiar with everything in that
region, necessary to be known. I put myself very much in his hands.
I was too anxious to get away to urge any difficulties or make any
troublesome requisitions. He was simply to procure me an abiding-place
in some private family--if possible in the suburbs--until I should be
able to look about me. Economy was insisted upon. I had precious little
money to spare, and even the spoils of my one night's visit to the
gaming-house, were of no small help in sustaining me in my determination
to remove. I had not applied them previously. I confess to a feeling of
shame when I was compelled by necessity at last to use them. I had saved
something already from my professional income, and I procured an advance
on my furniture which was left for sale. I had calculated my expenses in
removing and for one year's residence in M--, and was prepared, so far
as poor human foresight may prepare itself, to keep want from our doors
at least for that period. I trusted to good fortune, my own resources,
and the notorious fact that, at that day, there were few able lawyers
in M--, to secure me an early and valuable practice. I carried with me
letters from the best men in the community I had left. But I carried
with me what was of more value than any letters, even though they be
written in gold. I carried with me methodical habits and an energy of
character which would maintain my resolution, and bear me through, to
a safe conclusion, in any plan which I should contemplate. Industry and
perseverance are the giants that cast down forests, drain swamps, level
mountains, and create empires. I flattered myself that with these I had
other and crowning qualities of intellect and culture. Perhaps it may
be admitted that I had. But of what avail were all when coupled with the
blind heart? Enough--I must not anticipate.
Filled with the exciting fancies engendered by the affair of the last
night, I commenced my journey. The day was a fine one; the sun cheery
and bright without being oppressive; and soon, gliding through the broad
avenues, lined with noblest trees, which conducted us from the city to
the forests, we had the pleasant carol of birds, and the lively chirp of
hopping insects.
I was always a lover of the woods; green shady dells, and winding walks
amidst crowding foliage. I cared little for mere flowers. A garden was
never a desire in my mind. I could be pleased to see and to smell, but I
had no passion for its objects. But the trees--the big, venerable oaks,
like patriarchs and priests; the lofty and swaggering pines in their
green helmets, like warriors of the feudal ages--these were forms that
I could worship. I may say, I loved trees with a real passion. Flowers,
and the taste for flowers seemed to me always petty; but my instincts
led me to behold a sneaking and most impressive grandeur, in these old
lords of the forest, that had been the first, rising from the mighty
mother to attest the wondrous strength of her resources, and the teeming
glories of her womb.
Now, however, they did not fill my soul with earnest reachings, as had
ever been the case before. They soothed me somewhat, but the eyes of
my mind were turned within. They looked only at the prostration of
that miserable heart which was torturing itself with vague, wild
doubts--guessing and conjecturing with an agonizing pain, and without
the least hope of profit. I could not drive from my thoughts, the vexing
circumstances of the last night in the city; and, for the first day of
our journey, the hours moved with oppressive slowness. Objects which I
had formerly loved to contemplate and always found sweet and refreshing,
now gave me little pleasure and exacted little of my attention; and I
reached our stopping-place for the night with a sense of weariness
and stupor which no mere fatigue of body, I well knew, could ever have
occasioned.
But this could not last. The elasticity of my nature, joined with the
absence of that one person whom I had now learned to regard as my evil
genius, soon enabled me to shake off the oppressive doubts and sadness
which fettered and enfeebled me. Once more I began to behold the forests
with all the eyes of former delight and affection, and I was conscious,
after the progress of a day or two, of periods in which I entirely lost
sight of William Edgerton and all my suspicions in the sweet warmth of a
fresh and pleasing contemplation.
Something of this--nay, perhaps, the most of it, was due to my wife
herself. There was a change in her air and manner which sensibly
affected my heart. I had treated her coldly at first, but she had not
perceived it; at least she had not suffered it to influence her conduct;
and I was equally pleased and surprised to behold in her language,
looks, and deportment, a degree of life and buoyant animation, which
reminded me of the very champagne exuberance and spirit of her youth.
Her eyes flashed with a sense of freedom. Her voice sounded with the
silvery clearness of one, who, long pent up in the limits of a dungeon,
uses the first moment of escape into the forests to delight himself with
song. She seemed to have just thrown off a miserable burden;--and, as
for any grief--any sign of regret at leaving home and tics from which
she would not willingly part--there was not the slightest appearance of
any such feeling in her mind, look, or manner. Kindly, considerately,
and sweetly, and with a cheery smile in her eyes, and a springing vigor
in the accents of her voice, she strove to enliven the way and to expel
the gloom which she soon perceived had fastened itself upon my soul. Her
own cares, if she had any, seemed to be very slight, and were utterly
lost in mine. She spoke of our new abiding-place with a hearty
confidence; that it would be at once a home of prosperity and peace;
and, altogether convinced me for the time that the sacrifice must be
comparatively very small, which she had made on leaving her birth-place.
I very soon wondered that I should have fancied that William Edgerton
was ever more to her than the friend of her husband.
Our journey was slow but not tedious. Had our progress been only half
so rapid, I should have been satisfied. It was love alone that my heart
wanted. I craved for nothing but the just requital of my own passion. I
had no complaint, no affliction, when I could persuade myself that I
had not thrown away my affections upon the ungrateful and undeserving.
Assured now of the love of the beloved one, all the intense devotion of
my soul was re-awakened; and the deepest shadows of the forest, gloomy
and desolate as they were, along the waste tracts of Georgia and
Alabama--in that earlier day--enlivened by the satisfied spirit within,
seemed no more than so many places of retreat, where security and peace,
combining in behalf of Love, had given him an exclusive sovereignty.
The rude countryman encountered us, and his face beamed with
cheerfulness and good humor. The song of the black softened the toils of
labor, in the unfinished clearings; and even the wild red man, shooting
suddenly from out the sylvan covert, wore in his visage of habitual
gravity, an air of resignation which took all harshness from his uncouth
features.
Such, under the tuition of well-satisfied hearts, was our mutual
experience of the long journey which we had taken when we reached the
end of it. This we did in perfect safety. We found our friend, Kingsley,
prepared for and awaiting us. He had procured us pleasant apartments in
a neat cottage in the suburbs, where we were almost to ourselves. Our
landlady was an ancient widow, without a family. She occupied but a
single apartment in her house, and left the use of the rest to
her lodgers. This was an arrangement with which I was particularly
gratified. Her cottage lay half way up on the side of a hill which was
crowned with thick clumps of the noblest trees. Long, winding, narrow
foot-paths, carried us picturesquely to the summit, where we had a
bird's-eye view of the town below, the river beyond--now darting out
from the woods and now hiding securely beneath their umbrage--and fair,
smooth, lawn-looking fields, which glowed at the proper season with the
myriad green and white pinnies of corn and cotton. At the foot of the
cottage lay a delightful shrubbery, which almost covered it up from
sight. It was altogether such a retreat as a hermit would desire. It
reminded me somewhat of the lovely spot which we had left. A pleasant
walk of a mile lay between it and the town where I proposed to practice,
and this furnished a necessity for a certain degree of exercise, which,
being unavoidable, was of the most valuable kind. Altogether, Kingsley
had executed his commission with a taste and diligence which left me
nothing to complain of.
He was delighted at my coming.
“You are nearer to me now,” he said; “will be nearer at least when I get
to Texas; and I do not despair to see you making tracks after me when I
go there.”
“But when go you?”
“Not soon. I am in some trouble here. I am pleading and being impleaded.
You are just come in season to take up the cudgels for me. My landrights
are disputed--my titles. You will have something of a lawsuit to begin
upon at your earliest leisure.”
“Indeed! but what's the business?”
He gave me a statement of his affairs, placed his papers in my hands,
and I found myself, on inspecting them, engaged in a controversy which
was likely to give me the opportunity which I desired, of appearing soon
in cases of equal intricacy and interest. Kingsley had some ten thousand
dollars in land, the greater part of which was involved in questions of
title and pre-emption, presenting some complex features, and likely to
occasion bad blood among certain trespassers whom it became our first
duty to oust if possible. I was associated with a spirited young lawyer
of the place; a youth of great natural talent, keen, quick intellect,
much readiness of resource, yet little experience and less reading. Like
the great mass of our western men, however, he was a man to improve. He
had no self-conceit--did not delude himself with the idea that he
knew as much as his neighbor; and, consequently, was pretty certain to
increase in wisdom with increase of years. He had few prejudices to get
over, and though he knew his strength, he also knew his weakness. He
felt the instinct of natural talent, but he did not deceive himself on
the subject of his deficient knowledge. He was willing to learn whenever
he could find a teacher. His name was Wharton. I took to him at once. He
was an ardent, manly fellow--frank as a boy--could laugh and weep in the
same hour, and yet was as firm in his principles, as if he could neither
laugh nor weep. As an acquaintance he was an acquisition.
Kingsley was delighted to see me, though somewhat wondering that I
should give up the practice at home, where I was doing so well, to
break ground in a region where I was utterly unknown. He gave me little
trouble, however, in accounting to him for this movement. It was
not difficult to persuade him--nay, he soon persuaded himself--that
something of my present course was due to his own counsel and
suggestion. To a man, like himself, to whom mere transition was
pleasure, it needed no argument to show that my resolve was right.
“Who the d--l,” he exclaimed, “would like always to be in the same
place? Such a person is a mere cipher. We establish an intellectual
superiority when we show ourselves superior to place. A genuine man is
always a citizen of the world. It is your vegetable man that can not
go far without grumbling, finding fault with all he sees, talking of
comforts and such small matters, and longing to get home again. Such a
man puts me in mind of every member of the cow family that I ever knew.
He is never at peace with himself or the world, but always groaning and
thrusting out his horns, until he can get back to his old range, and
revel in his native marsh, joint-grass, and cane-tops. Englishmen are
very much of this breed. They go abroad, grumble as they go, and if they
can not carry their cane-tops with them, afflict the whole world with
their lamentations. I take it for granted, Clifford, that this step
to Alabama, is simply a step toward Texas. Your next will be to New
Orleans, and then, presto, we shall see you on the Sabine.”
“I hope not,” said my wife. “You have got us into such comfortable
quarters here, Mr. Kingsley, that I hope you will do nothing to tempt
my husband farther. Go farther and fare worse, you know. Let well enough
alone.”
“Oh. I beseech you!--two proverbs at a time will be fatal to one or
other of us. Perhaps both. But he can not fare worse by going to Texas.”
“He will do well enough here.”
“Perhaps.”
“Recover your lands, for example, as a beginning.”
“Ah! now you would bribe me. That is certainly a suggestion to make me
keep my tongue, at least until the verdict is rendered. 'Till then, you
know, I shall make no permanent remove myself.”
“But do you mean to go before the trial?” I asked.
“Yes, for a couple of months or so. I should only get into some squabble
with my opponents by remaining here; and I may be preparing for all of
us by going in season. I will look out for a township, Mrs. Clifford, on
the edge of some beautiful prairie, and near some beautiful river. Your
husband has a passion for water prospects, I can tell you, and would
become a misanthrope without them. I am doubtful if he will be happy,
indeed, if not within telescope distance from the sea itself. I don't
think that a river will altogether satisfy him.”
“Oh yes, THIS must;” and as she spoke she pointed to the fair glassy
surface of the Alabama, as it stretched away, at intervals, in broad
glimpses before our eyes.
“Well, we shall see; but I will make my preparations, nevertheless,
precisely as if he were not likely to be content. I have formed to
myself a plan for all of you. I must make a dear little colony of our
own in Texas. We shall have a nest of the sweetest little cottages, each
with its neat little garden. In the centre we shall have a neat little
playground for our neat little children; on the hill a neat little
church; in the grove a neat little library; on the river a neat little
barge; and over this neat little empire, you, Lady Clifford, shall be
the neat little empress.”
“Dear me! what a neat little establishment!”
“It shall be all that, I assure you; and it shall have other advantages.
You shall have a kingdom free from taxes and wars. There shall be no
law-givers but yourself. We shall have no elections except when we elect
our wives, and the women shall be the only voters then. We shall have
no custom houses--everything shall be free of duty;--we shall have no
banks--everything shall be free of charge;--we shall have no parson, for
shall we not be sinless?”
“But what will you do with the neat little church?”
“Oh! that we shall keep merely to remind us of what is necessary in less
fortunate communities.”
“Very good; but how, if you have no parsons, will you perform the
marriage ceremony?”
“That shall be a natural operation of government. The voters having
given their suffrages, you shall determine and declare with whom the
majority lies, and give a certificate to that effect. The first choice
will lie with the damsel having the highest number of votes; the second
with the next; and so on to the end of the chapter; and then elections
are to take place annually among the unmarried--the ladies being the
privileged class as I said before. You will keep a record of these
events, the names of parties, and so forth; and this record shall be
proof, conclusive to conviction, against any party falling off from his
or her duties.”
“Quite a system. I do not deny that our sex will have some new
privileges by this arrangement.”
“Unquestionably. But you have not heard all. We shall have no doctors,
for we shall have no diseases in the beautiful world to which I shall
carry you. We shall have no lawyers, for we shall have no wrangling.”
“Indeed; but what is my husband to do then?”
“Why, he is your husband. What should he do? He takes rank from you. You
are queen, you know. He will have no need of law.”
“There's reason in that; but how will you prevent wrangling where there
are men and women?”
“Oh, by giving the women their own way. The government is a
despotism--you are queen--surely you will make no further objection to
so admirable a system?”
In good-humored chat like this, in which our landlady, Mrs.
Porterfield--a lady who, though fully sixty-five years of age, was yet
of a cheery and chatty disposition--took considerable part, our first
evening passed away. Though fatigued, we sat up until a tolerably
late hour, enlivened by the frank spirit of our friend, Kingsley,
and inspired by the natural feeling of curiosity which our change of
situation inspired It was midnight before we solicited the aid of sleep.