Afloat and Ashore (52 page)

"Why, sir, I thought I wrote you all about the Mertons. How we met
them in London, and then found them prisoners to Monsieur Le Compte;
and that I intended to carry them to Canton, in the Crisis!"

"You told us some of this, certainly; but, though you may have written
'all about' a
Major
Merton, you
forgot
to tell us 'about
all
the Mertons. This is the first syllable I have ever had
about a
Miss
Merton. How is it, girls—did Miles speak of any
one but the Major, in his letter?"

"Not a syllable to me, sir, of any young lady, I can assure you,"
replied Grace, laughing. "How was it to you, Lucy?"

"Of course he would not tell me that which he thought fit to conceal
from his own sister," said Lucy, in a low voice.

"It is odd I should have forgotten to mention her," I cried,
endeavouring to laugh it off. "Young men do not often forget to write
about young ladies."

"This Miss Merton is young, then, brother?"

"About your own age, Grace."

"And handsome—and agreeable—and accomplished?"

"Something like yourself, my dear."

"But handsome, I take it for granted, Miles," observed Mr. Hardinge,
"by the manner in which you have omitted to speak of her charms, in
your letters!"

"Why sir, I think most persons—that is the world in general—I mean
such as are not over-fastidious, would consider Miss Merton
particularly handsome—agreeable in person and features, I would be
understood to say."

"Oh! you are sufficiently explicit; everybody can understand you,"
added my laughing guardian, who had no more thought of getting me
married to his own daughter, than to a German princess of a hundred
and forty-five quarterings, if there are any such things; "some other
time we will have the particulars of her eyes, hair, teeth, &c., &c."

"Oh! sir, you may save me the trouble, by looking at her yourself,
to-morrow, since she and her father are both here."

"
Here!
" exclaimed all four in a breath; Lucy's extreme surprise
extorting the monosyllable from her reserve, even a little louder than
from the rest.

"Certainly, here; father, daughter, and servants; I dare say I omitted
to speak of the servants in my letters, too; but a poor fellow who has
a great deal to do, cannot think of everything in a minute. Major
Merton has a touch of the liver complaint; and it would not do to
leave him in a warm climate. So, no other chance offering, he is
proceeding to England, by the way of America."

"And how long had you these people on board your ship, Miles?" Grace
asked, a little gravely.

"Actually on board, with myself, about nine months, I should think;
but including the time in London, at Canton, and on the island, I
should call our acquaintance one of rather more than a year's
standing."

"Long enough, certainly, to make a young lady sufficiently obvious to
a young gentleman's memory, not to be forgotten in his letters."

After this pointed speech, there was a silence, which Mr. Hardinge
broke by some questions about the passage home from Canton. As it was
getting cool on the Battery, however, we all moved away, proceeding to
Mrs. Bradfort's. This lady, as I afterwards discovered, was much
attached to Lucy, and had insisted on giving her these opportunities
of seeing the world. She was quite at her ease in her circumstances,
and belonged to a circle a good deal superior to that into which Grace
and myself could have claimed admission, in right of our own social
position. Lucy had been well received as her relative, and as a
clergyman's daughter; and Grace on her own account, as I afterwards
learned. It would be attaching too much credit to Clawbonny, to say
that either of the girls had not improved by this association; though
it was scarcely possible to make Grace more feminine and lady-like
than she had been made by nature. The effect on Lucy was simply to put
a little reserve on her native frankness, and sturdy honesty; though
candour compels me to say, that mingling with the world, and,
especially the world to which they had been introduced by Mrs.
Bradfort, had certainly increased the native charm of manner that each
possessed. I began to think Emily Merton so far from possessing any
advantage over the two girls, might now improve a little herself, by
associating with them.

At the house, I had to tell my whole story, and to answer a multitude
of questions. Not a syllable more was said about Miss Merton; and even
Lucy had smiles to bestow and remarks to make, as before. When we got
to the lights, where the girls could remove their shawls and hats, I
made each of them stand before me, in order to ascertain how much time
had altered them. Grace was now nineteen; and Lucy was only six months
her junior. The greatest change was in the latter. Her form had
ripened into something as near as possible to girlish perfection. In
this respect she had the advantage of Grace, who was a little too
slight and delicate; whereas, Lucy, without any of the heaviness that
so often accompanies a truly rounded person, and which was perhaps a
slight defect in Emily Merton's figure, was without an angle of any
sort, in her entire outline. Grace, always so handsome, and so
intellectual in the expression of her countenance, had improved less
in this respect, than Lucy, whose eyes had obtained a tenderness and
feeling that rendered them, to me, even more attractive than those of
my own dear sister. In a word, any man might have been proud, at
finding two such admirable creatures interested in him, as interested,
every look, smile, syllable, and gesture of these dear girls, denoted
they were in me.

All this time, Neb had been overlooked. He had followed us to the
house, however, and was already engaged in a dark-coloured flirtation
with a certain Miss Chloe Clawbonny, his own second-cousin, in the
kitchen; a lady who had attracted a portion of his admiration, before
we sailed, and who had accompanied her young mistress to town. As soon
as it was ascertained the fellow was below, Lucy, who was quite at
home in her kinswoman's house, insisted on his being introduced. I saw
by the indulgent smile of Mrs. Bradfort, that Lucy was not exceeding
her conceded privileges, and Neb was ordered up, forthwith. Never was
there a happier fellow than this 'nigger' appeared to be, on that
occasion. He kept rolling his tarpaulin between his fingers, shifting
his weight from leg to leg, and otherwise betraying the confusion of
one questioned by his betters; for, in that day, a
negro
was
ready enough to allow he had his betters, and did not feel he was
injured in so doing. At the present time, I am well aware that the
word is proscribed even in the State's Prisons; everybody being just
as good as everybody else; though some have the misfortune to be
sentenced to hard labour, while others are permitted to go at
large. As a matter of course, the selections made through the
ballot-boxes, only go to prove that "one man is as good as another."

Our party did not separate until quite late. Suppers were eaten in
1802; and I was invited to sit down with the rest of the family, and a
gay set we were. It was then the fashion to drink toasts; gentlemen
giving ladies, and ladies gentlemen. The usage was singular, but very
general; more especially in the better sort of houses. We men drank
our wine, as a matter of course; while the ladies sipped theirs, in
that pretty manner in which females moisten their lips, on such
occasions. After a time, Mrs. Bradfort, who was very particular in the
observance of forms, gaily called on Mr. Hardinge for his toast.

"My dear Mrs. Bradfort," said the divine, good-humouredly, "if it were
not in your own house, and contrary to all rule to give a person who
is present, I certainly should drink to yourself. Bless me, bless me,
whom shall I give? I suppose I shall not be permitted to give our new
Bishop, Dr. Moore?"

The cry of "No Bishop!" was even more unanimous than it is at this
moment, among those who, having all their lives dissented from
episcopal authority, fancy it an evidence of an increasing influence
to join in a clamour made by their own voices; and this, moreover, on
a subject that not one in a hundred among them has given himself the
trouble even to skim. Our opposition—in which Mrs. Bradfort joined,
by the way—was of a very different nature, however; proceeding from a
desire to learn what lady Mr. Hardinge could possibly select, at such
a moment. I never saw the old gentleman so confused before. He
laughed, tried to dodge the appeal, fidgeted, and at last fairly
blushed. All this proceeded, not from any preference for any
particular individual of the sex, but from natural diffidence, the
perfect simplicity and nature of his character, which caused him to be
abashed at even appearing to select a female for a toast. It was a
beautiful picture of masculine truth and purity! Still, we would not
be put off; and the old gentleman, composing his countenance five or
six times in vain efforts to reflect, then looking as grave as if
about to proceed to prayer, raised his glass, and said—

"Peggy Perott!"

A general laugh succeeded this announcement, Peggy Perott being an old
maid who went about tending the sick for hire, in the vicinity of
Clawbonny, and known to us all as the ugliest woman in the county.

"Why do you first insist on my giving a toast, and then laugh at it
when given?" cried Mr. Hardinge, half-amused, half-serious in his
expostulations. "Peggy is an excellent woman, and one of the most
useful I know."

"I wonder, my dear sir, you did not think of adding a sentiment!"
cried I, a little pertly.

"And if I had, it would have been such a one as no woman need be
ashamed to hear attached to her name. But enough of this; I have given
Peggy Perott, and you are bound to drink her"—that we had done
already; "and now, cousin, as I have passed through the fiery
furnace—"

"Unscathed?" demanded Lucy, laughing ready to kill herself.

"Yes, unscathed, miss: and now, cousin, I ask of you to honour us with
a toast."

Mrs. Bradfort had been a widow many years, and was fortified with the
panoply of her state. Accustomed to such appeals, which, when she was
young and handsome, had been of much more frequent occurrence than of
late, she held her glass for the wine with perfect self-possession,
and gave her toast with the conscious dignity of one who had often
been solicited in vain "to change her condition."

"I will give you," she said, raising her person and her voice, as if
to invite scrutiny, "my dear old friend, good Dr. Wilson."

It was incumbent on a single person to give another who was also
single; and the widow had been true to the usage; but "good
Dr. Wilson" was a half-superannuated clergyman, whom no one could
suspect of inspiring anything beyond friendship.

"Dear me—dear me!" cried Mr. Hardinge, earnestly; "how much more
thoughtful, Mrs. Bradfort, you are than myself! Had I thought a
moment,
I
might have given the Doctor; for I studied with him,
and honour him vastly."

This touch of simplicity produced another laugh—how easily we all
laughed that night!—and it caused a little more confusion in the
excellent divine. Mrs. Bradfort then called on me, as was her right;
but I begged that Rupert might precede me, he knowing more persons,
and being now a sort of man of the world.

"I will give the charming Miss Winthrop," said Rupert, without a
moment's hesitation, tossing off his glass with an air that said, "how
do you like
that?
"

As Winthrop was a highly respectable name, it denoted the set in which
Rupert moved; and as for the young lady I dare say she merited his
eulogium, though I never happened to see her. It was something,
however, in 1802, for a youngster to dare to toast a Winthrop, or a
Morris, or a Livingston, or a de Lancey, or a Stuyvesant, or a
Beekman, or a Van Renssellaer, or a Schuyler, or a Rutherford, or a
Bayard, or a Watts, or a Van Cortlandt, or a Verplanck, or a Jones, or
a Walton, or any of that set. They, and twenty similar families,
composed the remnant of the colonial aristocracy, and still made head,
within the limits of Manhattan, against the inroads of the
Van—something elses. Alas! alas! how changed is all this, though I
am obliged to believe it is all for the best.

"Do
you
know Miss Winthrop?" I asked of Grace, in a whisper.

"Not at all; I am not much in that set," she answered,
quietly. "Rupert and Lucy have been noticed by many persons whom I do
not know."

This was the first intimation I got, that my sister did not possess
all the advantages in society that were enjoyed by her friend. As is
always the case where it is believed to be our
loss
, I felt
indignant at first; had it been the reverse, I dare say I should have
fancied it all very right. Consequences grew out of these distinctions
which I could not then foresee, but which will be related in their
place. Rupert now called on Grace for her toast, a lady commonly
succeeding a gentleman. My sister did not seem in the least
disconcerted: but, after a moment's hesitation, she said—

"Mr. Edward Marston."

This was a strange name to me, but I afterwards ascertained it
belonged to a respectable young man who visited Mrs. Bradfort's, and
who stood very well with all his acquaintances. I looked at Rupert, to
note the effect; but Rupert was as calm as Grace herself had been,
when he gave Miss Winthrop.

"I believe I have no one to call upon but you, Miles," said Grace,
smiling.

"Me! Why, you all know I am not acquainted with a soul. Our Ulster
county girls have almost all gone out of my recollection; besides, no
one would know them here, should I mention twenty."

"You strangely forget, brother, that most of us are Ulster county
folk. Try if you can recall no young lady—"