CHAPTER VII
THROUGH THE EYES OF YOUTH
Then George surprised everybody by his determination to go toCalifornia.
"There are chances to make fortunes here," declared Stephen. "With thecrowds going out there, and no homes and no provision made for them,there must be a good deal of suffering. The stories of gold are toofabulous for belief."
"I want to see something of the world. And all the countries on thePacific Coast are rich in gold and treasures. I wonder what the historyof the world would have been if that side had been settled first?"
"The history of Mexico and Peru. Wealth and indolence and degeneration.And the East is nearer the commerce of the world. Oh, the old Pilgrimfathers didn't go so far out of the way!" laughingly.
"And they went in the face of almost everything. We have a little oftheir love of adventure. I don't know as my heart is so set upon afortune. You wouldn't believe it; but I've wished myself that intrepidexplorer Fremont dozens of times. There is such a splendid excuse forgoing now."
At first, they were all strongly opposed. John told him to come and jointhem, and keep turning his money over in up-town real estate. Mrs.Underhill pleaded. She was very fond of having her children about her.But when he went down-town, and heard the exciting talk, and saw thevessels of every kind fitting out, he came home more resolved than ever.
"And then we will build the house on that beautiful knoll,--a large,rambling, commodious place, big enough to take us all in, a refuge forour old age," laughed George.
They found he was not to be talked out of it. Ben was on his side, andnot only gave him encouragement, but offered to lend him a little moneyhe had saved up, and proposed to go shares with him.
Indeed, it was a time of great excitement. The ship-yards on the EastRiver were veritable bee-hives; and morning, noon, and night the streetswere thronged with workmen. The clipper-ships began to astonish theworld, and the steamers to compete with those of England. The new treatywith China was opening possibilities of trade to that country.
George decided to go by water to Vera Cruz. Round the Horn seemed toolong a journey for impatient youth. If he shouldn't like it, and shouldnot see any special prospect, he could come back the richer by hisexperience, if nothing else. People went to China. They often stayed twoyears in Europe.
"Yes," said Ben; "there's Mr. Theodore Whitney. He has had no end of agood time, and is in much better health then when he went away."
"And Fremont has gone through a great many hardships, and been in somebattles, and still lives," added George, laughingly. "And some of thepeople in Yonkers died who had never been more than ten miles away fromhome."
Mrs. Underhill gave in, as mothers of big sons are often forced to do.Mr. Underhill was rather pleased with the boy's spirit. Doctor Joe feltthat it wasn't a bad thing altogether, and that it would be nice to havean authentic account of that wonderful country.
So the last of March, George said good-bye to everybody. His father,Stephen, and Joe went down to see him off. It looked as if half thesailing-craft in the world were gathered in New York harbour.
Right on the top of this, something happened that engrossed theattention of the younger members of the family. There had been adisturbance in Paris; the old Bonaparte faction coming to the fore, andLouis Philippe had fled from the throne to England. Napoleon Bonapartehad shattered the divine right of kings nearly forty years earlier.
But the most startling link in the chain of events, was that LouisNapoleon, the son of Hortense Beauharnais and the once King of Holland,who, for fomenting one revolution, had been confined in the Fortress ofHam for life. He had escaped, and, with the prestige of the familyname, had roused the enthusiasm of France, and helped to form aRepublic. He was elected as one of the Deputies. Everybody was sayingthen the French were too volatile, and too fond of grandeur, to acceptthe democratic tendencies of a republic for any length of time. And theywondered if he would not follow in the steps of his famous uncle, andone day aim at a throne and an empire. Others hailed the step as a greatadvancement in the rights of the people, and thought it prefigured thatEurope would be republican rather than Cossack, recalling the elderEmperor's prediction.
And Hanny learned that this young man, who was before long to be Emperorof the French, had lived in New York, as well as Louis Philippe. Joetook her down-town to the old Delmonico Restaurant, which was consideredquite elegant in its day, and had entertained many famous people. Here,the young fellow who had been the son of a king, and was now an exile,used to dine, and gather about him the flower of the fashionable world,as it was called. And Lorenzo Delmonico, who rarely went into hiskitchen now, would go and cook a dinner for this guest, who had the highart of persuasion in an eminent degree, it would seem. Afterward thePrince would entertain the other guests with curious tricks with cards,and conversation. Now his life bid fair to be almost as eventful as hisuncle's; and, like him, he was doomed to die an exile on English soil.
Joe and Hanny took their dinner in the old place, though now theDelmonicos were fitting up a hotel at the lower end of Broadway whichwas destined to become quite as famous, and to house many notablepeople.
She was so engrossed with reading and studying that sometimes she hardlyfound an hour for the babies. She and Daisy, like most very young girls,had a passion for poetry. Mrs. Sigourney they thought rather grave anddry; but Mrs. Hemans, with her soft flowing numbers and beautiful face,was a great favourite. Longfellow was beginning to be appreciated, andseveral other poets that one saw now and then on Broadway. There weresome pathetic poems by a Western writer, Alice Cary, that used to goquite to the little girl's tender heart. She had a wonderful memory forany rhythmic production, and used to say them over to her father. If shedidn't sit on his lap,--and her mother had almost laughed her out ofit,--she leaned her arms on his knee, or rested her head against hisshoulder, while her soft, sweet voice went purling along like,--
"A hidden brook In the leafly month of June."
The Dean girls did not care so much for poetry. They wanted stories; andstories and books were beginning to spring up on every hand. Miss DeliaWhitney was writing a novel. She had accomplished some successfulstories, and had one in "The Ladies' Book," the pretty fashion magazineof the day.
Poor deaf Aunt Clem had dropped out of life like a child going to sleep.Aunt Patty kept well and bright. Nora was growing up into a tall girl,and went to Rutger's Institute, though she confessed to Hanny, "She justhated all schools, and wouldn't go a day longer, only it was not quitethe thing to grow up an ignoramus."
And there was Frederica Bremer, a Swedish novelist, whose "Home orFamily Cares and Family Joys" was Hanny's delight. And Irving was evernew and bright. "Salmagundi" always amused her father so much. Therecent and delightful stories were the talk of every one.
Daisy was not such a ravenous reader. She was quite taken up withpainting, and had done some very nice work in water-colours. She had adecided gift for catching resemblances, and had sketched some excellentlikenesses. She confided to Hanny that her ambition was to paintportraits on ivory.
This spring a plan was mooted that almost rendered Hanny speechless. Mr.Jasper had some business connections abroad that needed his personalsupervision, and he proposed to take his family. Tours to Europe werenot a common occurrence then, and one could hardly run over for a sixweeks' trip. Daisy had improved so much that she was sure to enjoy it;and there were some German baths Doctor Joe thought he would like her totry.
Italy had been the children's land of romance. But the Deans neverexpected to go; and Hanny was quite sure she should feel awfully afraidon the ocean. But Joe said some time when he had grown quite rich, andneeded a rest for his tired-out body and nerves, he and Hanny mightgo,--ten years hence, perhaps. It wasn't nearly so formidable when youlooked at it through the telescope of ten years; and Hanny could belearning French and German, and may be Italian. She had picked up a gooddeal of German already from Barbara, who had proved an excellent servantafter she had acquire
d American ways.
The Jaspers would give up their house and store their choicestfurniture. Opposite, a great many foreigners were crowding in; and downbelow, Houston Street and Avenue A. were filling up with them. We feltso large and grand then, with our great stretches of unoccupied land,that we invited the oppressed from everywhere. It was our boast that,--
"Uncle Sam was rich enough to give us all a farm."
Very good thrifty citizens many of them made; but some of the earlyexperiences were not so agreeable. And people were beginning to think"up-town" would be the choice for residences. Even Mr. Dean had a vagueidea of buying up there while property was cheap. Stephen and Margaretwere trying to persuade their parents to do the same thing.
It would be dreadful to have Daisy go away for a whole year. When Daisyconsidered the point, it didn't seem as if she could leave all her girlfriends and her dear Doctor Joe. But the days passed on, and the passagewas taken. Mrs. Jasper asked the children in to a supper, which wouldhave been delightful, except for the thought that it was a farewellsupper. The table was spread in most artistic array; and Sam waited uponthe company. They tried very hard to be merry; but every little whilethey would all subside and glance at each other with apprehensive eyes.
The grown people came in the evening. The most wonderful thing was thatMr. and Mrs. Reed were among the parents. Cousin Jane was still at theReeds'; and, as she was "handy" about sewing, she had altered Mrs.Reed's old-fashioned gowns, and made her some new ones.
Mrs. Reed did not get real strong, and was troubled somewhat with acough when cold weather came on. But she lost her weather-beaten look,and did gain a little flesh. She was very presentable in her black-silkdress, with some lace at the throat and wrists that she had bought ather marriage. She wore a little black-lace head-dress with a few purplebows; and she admitted to Charles that the Jaspers were very finepeople, and she was sorry they were going away; but it would take a mintof money for a whole family to travel around like that.
The Jaspers' house was then dismantled; but they were going to board forabout ten days. Hanny and Josie Dean went down to see the state-room andwish them _bon voyage_. Doctor Joe had given Mrs. Jasper counsel abouteverything that might happen to Daisy.
Then the signal was given for all who were not going to return on shore.There were some tender kisses and tears; and Doctor Joe took both girlsby the arm and steadied them down the gang-plank. What a huge thing thesteamer looked! But it was nothing compared to the later ones.
It was very lonesome. The night was pleasant, and Hanny sat out on thestoop with her father; but, whenever she tried to talk, somethingswelled up in her throat and made her feel like crying. But her fatherhugged her up close. She would always have him.
It had not seemed so sad to have Nora go away; in fact they could seeher any time. And she had not loved Nora quite so well. She didn't loveany girl as she loved Daisy, and it seemed as if she could not live awhole year without her.
They talked about it at school, and most of the girls envied her thesplendid journey. "I don't know as I would mind being a little lame, ifI could have such a beautiful face, and be taken everywhere," said oneof the girls.
But Hanny didn't want to be anybody else, if she had to give up her ownmother and father, and dear Joe and Ben and, oh, little darling Stevie.
Just after this a black-bordered envelope came up from HammersleyStreet. Grandfather Bounett, who had been very feeble of late, had died.Hanny had seen him a number of times since her memorable introductoryvisit. Luella had been sent to boarding-school, and was quite toneddown, was indeed a young lady.
Doctor Joe had made frequent visits, and the old gentleman had told himmany striking incidents of his life. Hanny used to think how queer thecity must have been in seventeen hundred, when people had a blackservant to carry the lantern so one could see to get about. She knew somuch of the early history now,--the Dutch reign and the British reignand the close of the war.
Old Mr. Bounett looked like a picture in his handsome, old-fashionedattire; and he just seemed asleep. The large rooms and the hall werefull, and men were standing out on the sidewalk. He had rounded out thecentury. A hundred years was a long while to live. There were a numberof French people, and a chapter was read out of grandfather's well-wornFrench Bible.
Somehow it was not a sorrowful funeral. It was indeed bidding him areverent God speed on his journey to the better land.
About ten days afterward, they were surprised by a visit from the eldestmarried daughter, Mrs. French, whom Hanny had taken such a fancy toyears before.
"I've come of a queer errand," she explained, when they had talked overthe ordinary matters. "I want a visit from little Miss Hanny. I havebeen away with my husband a good many times since we first met, and nowhe has gone to China, and will be absent still a year longer. I amkeeping house alone, except as I have some nieces now and then stayingwith me. I want to take Hanny over on Friday, if I may, and she shallcome back in time for school on Monday morning. I have a great manycuriosities to show her. And perhaps some of her brothers will come overand take tea with us Sunday evening."
Hanny was a little shy and undecided. But her mother assented readily.She thought a change would do her good, as she had moped since Daisy'sdeparture.
So it was arranged that Mrs. French should come on the ensuing Friday.Hanny almost gave out; but when the carriage drove up to the door, andMrs. French looked so winsome and smiling, she said good-bye to hermother with a sudden accession of spirits.
They drove to Grand Street Ferry and crossed over on the boat.Williamsburg was a rather straggling place then. It was quite a distancefrom the ferry, not closely built up, though the street was long andstraight. At the south side of the house was an extra lot in a flowerand vegetable garden. The house was quite pretty, two stories with apeaked roof, and a wisteria going up to the top. There was a wide porchwith a hammock hung already. All the air was sweet with a great bed oflilies of the valley,--quite a rarity then.
There was a long parlor, and then a music-room; in a sort of an ell, adining-room and kitchen; upstairs, two beautiful sleeping chambers and asmall sewing-room with a writing-desk and some book-shelves.
Hanny felt as if she were entering an Oriental palace. The doorways andwindows were hung with glistening silk that had flecks of gold andsilver in it; and there were such soft rugs on the floor your feet wereburied in them. It was almost like a museum, with the queer tables andcabinets, and the curious fragrance pervading every corner.
They went upstairs and took off their hats and capes, which were one ofthis spring's fashions.
"This is my room," explained Mrs. French. "And with the door open youwon't feel afraid in the guest-chamber."
"I have had to sleep alone since Margaret was married," returned thelittle girl. "No, I am not afraid."
"I thought I would not ask any one else. I wanted you all to myself,"and Mrs. French smiled. "I have hosts of nieces and nephews. There wassuch a large family of us."
Hanny thought she would rather be the only guest now. She was quitefascinated with Mrs. French.
She bathed her face and brushed her hair. She had brought a pretty whiteruffled apron. The little girls didn't wear black-silk aprons now; butthey were taught to be careful of their clothes, and I think they werequite proud of their pretty aprons. Hanny's had dainty little pocketsand a pink bow on each one.
The frocks were made shorter, and the pantalets kept them company. Allthat was really proper now, was a row of fine tucks and a ruffle, or anedge of needlework. There was some fine imported French needlework, muchof it done in convents; but nearly every lady did it herself, and it wasquite a great thing for a little girl to bring out her work and show itto aunts and cousins. No one dreamed then that there would be machinesto make the finest and most exquisite work, and save time and eyesight.
Hanny looked very sweet and pretty in her pink lawn and white apron. Herhair was braided in the two tails that every little girl wore who hadnot curly hair. On
grand occasions, Hanny's was put in curl-papers, andit made very nice ringlets, though it was still a sort of flaxen brown.But then she was fair, rather pale a good deal of the time. She flushedvery easily though. There was an expression of trustful innocence thatrendered her very attractive, without being beautiful like Margaret.
"Come and let us walk about the garden," said Mrs. French. "It is lightenough to see the roses. They are my especial pride."
Hanny took the outstretched hand. She could not have explained it, butshe did feel happy and at home with Mrs. French. There was agraciousness about her that set one at ease.
At the side was a long porch with curtains that rolled up when they werenot needed for shade. At the front of the garden, there was considerableyoung shrubbery, then an arrangement of beds; the centre one, which wasa circle, was filled with the most beautiful roses. The middle wasraised somewhat, mound shape, with the dark red roses, then growing alittle paler to pure rose-colour and pink, tea-rose with the salmontint, and a border of white. And, oh, how fragrant!
Beside this bed there were others in clusters, and one clump in anexquisite yellow.
"Some of them have been great travellers," said Mrs. French. "There areroses from Spain, from France and Italy."
Hanny opened her eyes very wide, and then she looked at them again insurprise.
"Oh, how could you get them?" she asked.
"I brought them from their homes. You see I have been quite a traveller,also."
The child drew a long breath. "Did you go with Captain French?" sheinquired.
"Yes. When we were first married, his vessel traded in the Levant, andbrought back fruits and silks and shawls and nuts, and ever so manythings. After that we went to India, Calcutta. We took one of mysisters, and she married an English merchant, and has been home onlyonce since then."
"Oh, I shouldn't like Margaret to live in Calcutta," the little girlsaid, startled.
Mrs. French smiled. "Then we were away almost four years. We went to theChinese ports as well, and to some of the curious islands. We took acargo of tea to London."
"I know a little girl who has just gone to London, and who is to go onto Germany to take some special kind of baths. She is my very dearfriend."
"Is she ill?"
"She is a great deal better now. When we first knew her, she couldn'twalk but a few steps. She was in the hospital where my brother used togo when he was first a doctor. Then she came to live in our street."
"With her parents?"
"Oh, yes. She has one aunt, but no brothers or sisters. It must seemstrange not to have any," and Hanny glanced up.
"It would be strange to me. I had ten in all, and there is only onedead. Eugene is the oldest of the second family. One married brotherlives in Baltimore, one only a short distance from here. And you havesix brothers,--a good supply for one little girl."
"I suppose some of them belong to Margaret," and she gave a soft,rippling laugh. "We haven't ever divided them up. But Joe belongs to me.When I get to be a woman, and he has a good big practice, I am going tokeep house for him."
"But what will your father do?"
"Why--" Hanny had not considered that point. "Oh, it won't be in a longwhile! And then father will be old, and he will come and live with us, Ithink. Dolly says she is going to have mother."
Mrs. French thought the division rather amusing.
"Where is Captain French gone now?"
"To China again. He has been going back and forth to Liverpool; but hehad an excellent offer for the long trip. I concluded not to go,grandpa was so old and feeble. And my sister is coming to England tolive. Her husband is heir now to a fine estate and a title; and theyhave quite a family of children."
"Then you will want to go to England to see her," said Hanny.
"Indeed, I shall. I have not seen her in seven years; since the time shewas here."
"We all liked Mr. Eugene so much," Hanny remarked. "And Luella has grownso, I hardly knew her."
"They have a trick of growing up. I hope you won't be in any hurry."
"I am small of my age," and Hanny gave a soft sigh.
"It will take you a long time to get as large as your mother."
Hanny wasn't sure that she wanted to be quite so large. Yet she didn'treally want her mother changed. And, oh, she wouldn't have her as thinas Mrs. Reed for all the world!
They had been walking around the paths that were clean and solid as afloor. What beautiful plants and flowers there were! Strange things,too, that Hanny had never seen before. Then the tea-bell rang, and theycame up to the rose garden, where Mrs. French broke off several partlyopened buds and pinned them on the little girl's bodice.
The dining-room windows opened on the porch, and they walked in thatway. It had a great beaufet with carved shelves and brackets goingnearly up to the ceiling, and full of the most curious articles Hannyhad ever seen. Then there was a cabinet in the corner containing rareand beautiful china. The table was small and dainty, oval, with a vaseof flowers at the ends; and the two sat opposite each other, while atidy young coloured girl waited upon them.
Hanny felt as if she was part of a story; and she tried to recallseveral of her heroines who went visiting in some curiously eleganthouse. It was different from the Jaspers, from anything she had everseen, and there was a subtle fragrance about it that made her feeldreamy.
A Little Girl of Long Ago; Or, Hannah Ann Page 7