Private Life (17 page)

packet of letters was not one she found but one that fell into her possession, quite

literally, as she was setting mouse traps in the linen wardrobe. She was brushing away

dirt and what all, and bumped her head sharply against the upper shelf. As she then

backed out of the wardrobe, it began to teeter, and when she pushed it back against the

wall with both hands, one of the files that had been stored there, willy-nilly, fell out onto

the floor and broke. There was the packet, this one not from Andrew to his mother but

from Mrs. Early to Andrew. There were five of them.

She carried them to her bedroom, and sat down on the bed. The first one

read:January 14, 1901

Darlington, Missouri Dear Andrew,I was pleased to read in your last that you find the

arrangements I made for your comfort in your new place in Chicago very much to your

liking. I did consider a lighter stuff for the window draperies, but even in the short time

that I was with you there, it was evident to me that you would have both a strong west

wind, off the prairies (and straight from Minnesota, you can count on that) and, on other

days, an equally punishing wind off the lake, and so, if you feel cozy and well insulated,

you may thank my foresight.I hasten to respond to your last, received today, because I

sense in your dissatisfaction with Mr. C----the ghost of the old difficulty, and this

difficulty, son, resides in you, not in Mr. C----. I am going to be blunt with you, in the

hopes that you will not allow your feelings to get the best of you. You must be patient. It

is unfortunate that you and Mr. C----crossed paths in Germany. He is certainly alert to

your challenge to him. He is a short man, a younger man than you by at least a few years,

and the only son of considerable wealth. He has not been given as much of a free rein as

you have been given, to make the most of his abilities and to fly out of the paternal nest.

He is undoubtedly sensitive to your claims and jealous of your abilities. This puts a

strong onus upon you to be patient, forbearing, and, most of all, to drop old antipathies,

even in the face of the fact that he outranks you at the observatory. I know you can do

these things, and that you have, increasingly, shown yourself to possess a measure of tact.

Your last disturbed me, it is true, but I have confidence in your discretion.Love always,

Mother

The next one was dated in April:Dearest Andrew,Thank you for your last. Mrs.

Hitchens and I did enjoy our visit to Hot Springs. Apparently, there is a great plan afoot

to open a horseracing track, and I was telling Mrs. Hitchens about how much we enjoyed

the racing at Saratoga two years ago, and of your luck at the windows, when you told me

that a superior European education was good for more things than one. Your grandfather,

though a respectable man in every way, would have been proud of such sentiments!From

your silence on the subject, I can only assume that you have laid aside your animus

toward Mr. C----, and are prepared to take the long way round. THIS CAN ONLY BE

GOOD. Son, you have not had the experience that other men have, which is to be part of

an institution that works, and must work, in a certain way. Every institution has its own

system, and woe betide those who rush in and attempt to change the system precipitously.

Such efforts can only offend those to whom the ways of the institution seem just and

appropriate, and those people will have their revenge, make no mistake about it. You

have had things all your own way for all of your life (and for this, I must blame myself-your brothers are much more canny than you are about political issues). But I will leave it

at that, and praise you for your continuing forbearance.

And then she went on with family news for a page and a half.

Given her new interest in motherhood, Margaret read these letters with respect for

her mother-in-law's skill in finding words to address Andrew that were both

straightforward and tactful. Andrew's mother was not like Lavinia, who kept her feelings

and thoughts mostly to herself until they burst out in a surprising and sometimes hurtful

way that she later had to apologize for. But when she turned to the next letter, she saw

that, however tactfully and honestly (and wisely) Mrs. Early expressed herself, it had had

no effect. She wrote:June 2, 1902

St. Louis, the Chouteau Hotel,

Chouteau and South Broadway Dearest Andrew:John has forwarded your last to me here

in St. Louis, where I am doing some business concerning the Gratiot Street property (and

a thorny business it is, I must say, but too tedious to relate). I was dismayed to read that

you have sent a list of objections and "suggestions" (which certainly read like ultimata) to

your colleague Mr. C----and also to your superior, Mr. D----. I cannot feature how you

think this will help your case or promote your interests. I do realize that it is unfair for

Mr. C----to forbid to you use of the refracting telescope in Wisconsin, and I am sure, as

you say, that his excuse for this--that you were not careful enough with it last summer--is

simply patched together. But I am telling you that if you encourage him to repeat it too

often, he will come to forget that it is a lie and a slander, and believe it as fervently as if it

were God's own truth. One reason for "turning the other cheek" is that each time an

enemy lands a blow, he is motivated to land another. Soon there is no way of stepping

back from the most extreme possible positions. I know you know this, because you have

enunciated all the right sentiments, but now, in the heat of battle, it is as if you have

forgotten everything you've learned. You are thirty-five years old, Andrew, and must

understand that if you spoil this opportunity at the University of Chicago, you will never

get another like it, and all of your hopes and dreams, not to mention your work, will have

been for nought. When you were enduring the hardships of southern Mexico, it was for

this very thing--the chance to work at such a place, with such men, at just such a time as

this, when Americans have, as you say, thrown off provincialism in time for the new

century. Yes, we have said that you were made for this position! You were! That the

position requires something of you--some forbearance, some understanding, some

CANNINESS--is not surprising to anyone who must make his or her way in the world. I

urge you to step back now--to apologize to Mr. C----, to withdraw your complaints to Mr.

D----, and to wait, simply to wait. If you can't do it there, on the scene, then come home

to Darlington for the summer and cool your heels.Your loving Mother

Margaret could not help reading this with growing alarm, even though it was

dated years previously, and all these events were over and done with, and somehow they

had resulted in their current,
her
current, situation with Andrew. She felt her heart

quicken with suspense and anxiety while reading, and decided not to go on to the last

one. She looked around the bedroom, then bundled the letters together and pushed them

under the pillow. All that evening, she watched Andrew, but he seemed entirely himself-when Hubert Lear turned up, out on the front porch, smoking a cigarette, Andrew invited

him in, and offered him a slice of apple pie. They talked about school, and Andrew

showed him how to calculate compound interest.

The next morning, when Margaret opened the fourth letter, it was only because

she made up her mind that it was irrelevant to her situation--she was happy, Andrew

seemed in good spirits. The letter ran:January 2, 1903

Darlington Dearest Andrew,I must admit that it was with considerable dread that I saw

the thick envelope addressed to me, in your handwriting, in this morning's mail, and as I

feared, the envelope contained a lengthy self-justification. As much as I love you, son, I

cannot agree that you have done "the very thing that honor demanded" of you. "Honor"

has never demanded a thing of you in this sequence of events at the University of

Chicago, but pride has goaded you at every turn since the day you arrived on the campus,

knowing Mr. C----was already there. As I said to you when you were considering

whether or not to accept the position Mr. D----was offering you, it was not that they were

beseeching you to come, it was that they were extending an opportunity to you, and they

knew it. You should have known it, too.I believe you when you say that Mr. C----is

insufferable--to YOU. But he is not insufferable to Mr. D----and to Mr. Rockefeller and

to others who are powers in the University. He fits in with them, and they are comfortable

with him. In addition to that (and I am disappointed that you are so unworldly that you do

not understand this simple fact of life), his father donated the observatory and the

telescope, and so he has a proprietary feeling about it. Is this so obscure an example of

human nature that you cannot understand it? The disparities of wealth in Darlington are

minor--the difference between sleeping in the front parlor and keeping the front parlor

just for company. But the differences in wealth in Chicago or New York or San Francisco

are considerable and ostentatious, and it is the job of every aspirant to simply ignore

them, however grating they may be.I understand from your letter that Mr. D----is ready

to accede to your demands in some degree, and to raise your position. My advice is to

accept this with a strong expression of gratitude and withdraw the rest of your complaints

(for that is what they are). If your work is important to you, then proceed with it.

But her advice made no difference, because a brief letter dated a month later said:

"Of course you may come to Darlington and restore your health and equilibrium, and you

may stay as long as you wish. I won't hide my disappointment in the outcome of this

contretemps right now, but perhaps by the time you arrive things will look more just, or

at least more inevitable. I remain, always, your loving Mother."

The letter was dated early February 1903, that period when Andrew was visiting

his mother during the cold snap--when Mrs. Early was so kind to Margaret and Lavinia,

and they were so grateful for and impressed by the warmth and beauty of her house. It did

give her a chill, to read about the real torments Andrew and Mrs. Early had felt, which

had swirled behind their courtesies. She blushed to think of herself and Lavinia, looking

around that bedroom, so blindly impressed.

She put the packet away where she had found it, and decided to resist pursuing

further investigations, and then a letter from Andrew's mother arrived--she wrote about

once a month, always something addressed to the both of them, light and gossipy and

never intrusive (Lavinia had begun asking in every letter when she might expect a

grandson, and Margaret had only just mailed off the letter that described their recent

disappointment). When Andrew handed the letter to her, she read it with a new

appreciation of Mrs. Early's style and manner. It read:Dear Andrew--Here in Darlington,

it is cold and gloomy and the windows are covered wth ice. As a result, Mrs. Hitchens

and I are scheming about taking a great journey west, and, of course, your establishment,

and you, yourself, and dear Margaret are first in our thoughts. I cannot imagine how it is

that I have overlooked California in my travels! To think that I have visited Thomas in

Texas, where the scorpions and the tarantulas hold sway, and yet I have not sojourned in

the paradise of San Francisco! So--you and Margaret must prepare yourselves, Mrs.

Hitchens and I are embarking for Vallejo in one week--on April 3, and we should be with

you shortly thereafter, though I do anticipate that we will stop from time to time to gawk

at the vista and stare at the natives (be they white or Indian--I understand that the two

groups are equally intriguing). I will send to you by telegraph as we get closer. I don't

expect to impose upon you and Margaret for more than a day or two, but to travel on in

state to San Francisco, and there partake of every luxury!Your loving and self-indulgent

Mother

When she looked up after reading this, Margaret saw that Andrew was staring at

her, and then at their little house, so jam-packed with papers, books, and assorted

paraphernalia. She said, "Oh, I know Mrs. Lear will be happy to put them up--she has

eight bedrooms, and she's always wishing her own relations would visit." And, of course,

it would be the opportunity of a lifetime for her neighbor to divine something more about

Andrew than what Margaret was able to come up with solely on her own--Mrs. Lear and

Andrew's mother would surely get along famously.

The two ladies arrived late in the evening. Andrew and Margaret met the train and

took them by wagon and ferry directly to Mrs. Lear's house, where the boys had put up a

banner and, as they approached, set off a few homemade firecrackers for a welcome. Mrs.

Lear had laid out a small but elegant buffet of lemon tarts, tea, and avocado-and-prawn

sandwiches. By morning, after breakfast at the latest, Margaret knew, Mrs. Early would

hear about her failed pregnancy, and probably about every other little observation Mrs.

Lear had made of her life with Andrew. Margaret found this reassuring.