A Little Girl of Long Ago; Or, Hannah Ann

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER XI

  THE KING OF TERRORS

  They all admitted that Hanny had improved a good deal. She seemed tohave grown every way. Her mother was sure she must let her skirts down;and her last winter's frocks were too tight about the shoulders, and tooshort in the sleeves. She had absolutely gained five pounds, and herlittle face had rounded out. But still she was smaller than most girlsof her age.

  She had so much to talk about that her mother said she was a regularlittle gossip. Her father liked to hear about grandmother and thekindly, large-hearted Major. She had found out that when grandmother wasa young girl her name was Hannah Underhill, now it was Horton. So manyelderly people had been visiting at Fordham, and her father knew most ofthem. But Ben and Doctor Joe were interested in the poet Poe; Joe knewmore about him than he confessed to his little sister.

  Oh, how glad she was to get back to school! There were so many things tolearn. But Dolly had to have her one Saturday; and Mrs. French came overand took her to the house Beautiful. Ben was quite in love with Mrs.French. And now they were filling up the conservatory for winterblooming; and Hanny wished _they_ could have some house-flowers. Hermother had hydrangeas and an oleander; but they were put in the end ofthe stable for winter.

  Now and then she went up to Margaret's to stay all night. Daisy wasgrowing to be almost as lovely as Stevie had been; and though she didnot suggest Daisy Jasper, the name always recalled her dear friend. AndStevie was quite a big boy. He was getting some rough ways, too, andwanted to drive Hanny about for a horse, just as he did papa.Great-grandmother Van Kortland had knit him some beautiful horse-lines.

  And Annie was such a sweet little thing! Stevie wished she was a littlebrother, "'tause dirls ain't no dood," he said. "You'm dot to be sotareful." He talked quite crooked, and could not pronounce "g" at all.He said "umbebella" and "peaapoket" and "tea-tettletel." Philadelphiaalways floored him. But then he had been Hanny's first love, and shecould never forget the Christmas morning when he came.

  There had been another exciting matter as well, and this was apresidential election. Zachary Taylor, Old Rough and Ready, as he wascalled, had become a great hero to her. She found that he had servedgallantly in the War of 1812, fought against the mighty Tecumseh, andbeen in the Black Hawk War, beside all the late Mexican engagements,where he had so distinguished himself. At the nomination, she had been alittle sorry to have her old favourite Harry Clay superseded, andGeneral Scott was a war-veteran as well. Then there had been famousDaniel Webster, whose speeches were the favourite of school-boys, thoughthey had not banished Patrick Henry. But the real race was between Cass,Van Buren, Charles Francis Adams and himself; and Old Rough and Readywon. She wore a rough-and-ready straw bonnet this fall; all the girlsdid.

  Margaret agitated the school question again. Hanny ought to be makingsome useful friends, and though the "First Avenue and First Street girlsmight be very nice--"

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Underhill. "She's too little to be sent sofar off. And I don't want any lovers put in her head this many a year."

  Margaret was getting to be rather aristocratic. She kept her whole housenow, and had a maid-servant beside the coloured "boy." Some stylishpeople were building up-town. Dr. Hoffman had a good many friends, andhe was very proud of his handsome wife. But Mrs. Underhill sometimessaid, in the bosom of her family, that Margaret "put on airs."

  Hanny was well satisfied, and found a great many things to learn at Mrs.Craven's.

  Then Mr. Theodore Whitney came home, and published a book of travelletters. And another young man, one Bayard Taylor, had been abroad andseen all of Europe with knapsack and staff, and had published his "ViewsAfoot." Ben was so interested. He often stopped at the Whitneys forsupper and a talk.

  Nora grew like a weed, and developed a good deal of musical ability.They had a steady servant now; and Mrs. Whitney was more "intellectual"than ever, and beginning to be proud of Delia's stories. She wasgenerally paid for them; although young writers of that day weresatisfied with the chance of being heard of, and read. She was gettingquite a library together, and had her corner of the back parlour, whichMr. Theodore took possession of at once. He had brought home some fineengravings and studies, and half-a-dozen different "Virgins." The aspectof the rooms changed altogether. Delia began to cultivate quite a"circle."

  She and Ben were splendid comrades. She had plans for going abroad also;and he entered into them with great zeal. She "didn't suppose she couldpay her way like The.; but she was saving up her money for that object."Aunt Clem was real good to her; and when her quarterly allowance waspaid she often dropped five dollars into Dele's bank.

  "I don't know how much there is, and I am not going to open it under twoyears. Of course a woman couldn't take matters as Bayard Taylor did; butif she was economical and found cheap places! I do wonder if she couldgo alone?"

  Tourists' parties had not been invented, though men occasionallyclubbed together and obtained accommodations more cheaply.

  "Two years," returned Ben, musingly.

  Dele was certainly growing prettier. Her hair wasn't even Titian colournow, but a decided bright brown, and the curly roughness seemed just tosuit her. Then the freckles were disappearing. He didn't know asfreckles spoiled any one's complexion when it had that peachy softnessand the kind of creamy look. If her mouth was wide, it had some prettycurves, and her teeth were beautiful. A Grecian nose would take all thepiquancy out of her face.

  "It may be a little more than two years," considered Delia, "and The.may start off again. Oh, I'm pretty sure to go some time!"

  "I've quite made up _my_ mind to go some time," Ben announced gravely,then laughed.

  "It would be such fun to go together," said Dele, in her harum-scarumfashion, without a thought of any future contingency. "I'll try to makeThe. wait until I get rich enough."

  Ben went home thinking what rare fun it would be to travel with some onewho saw the comical side of everything, and who could extract pleasurestraight along, as a bee could gather up honey. He enjoyed the funmightily, but he could not always bring it to pass. Joe and Jim had ahumourous side; but John had always been grave and steady-going. Benwanted some one to stir up the spirit of fun, and then he did his bestto keep it going. But he always had so much of the past seething in hisbrain. The world had such a wonderful history! He was almost afraid thatnow, when there was no war on hand, only Indian skirmishes, it wouldgrow common-place. There were no breathless romances about it, as therewere about Europe and Asia, where such conquerors as Tamerlane, GenghisKhan, Alexander and Philip and Attila, Charlemagne and Napoleon hadstalked across the world as it was known then. Not that Ben had anysoldierly ambitions, but to youth everyday plodding along seemsunheroic.

  The pleasant neighbourhood-life went on, though it must be confessedthat Hanny often longed for Daisy Jasper. Mr. Jasper had returned; andthe plan was now that the others might stay abroad two or three years.Daisy had improved wonderfully at the baths. They would spend the winterat Naples, and go back to Germany in the summer. Daisy was takinglessons in music and painting and Italian.

  She wrote about herself to Hanny. She only practised an hour a day, andcould stand it very well. Everything was so queer and foreign, thoughoften very beautiful. But the operas were enchanting beyond description.

  "I want to learn to play a little for myself," she wrote. "And I find Ihave quite a good voice. I don't want to drop behind you all, and haveyou ashamed of me when I come back, for I couldn't spend a wholelifetime here, unless I had you, Hanny, and dear Doctor Joe. Tell meeverything about everybody."

  Hanny was always two or three days answering the letters. There were newgirls in school to talk about, and the many things the others weredoing. Charles and Jim were at the Deans so much; Mr. Dean was sointerested in them, and Mrs. Dean made it so pleasant! Mrs. Reed wasinduced to come over now and then. She had softened considerably; butshe had never regained her strength, and sometimes she felt quiteuseless, she declared to Mr. Reed. But he thought they had never bee
n sohappy or comfortable.

  That left Hanny quite alone. Josie seemed such a very large girl, andshe classed Hanny and Tudie as "the children." Tudie was a good dealengrossed with her first large piece of worsted work. Not that Hanny waslonely! She read to her father when lessons were done, or he cameupstairs to hear her play. She was learning some of the old-fashionedsongs that he had loved in his youth, though I think sometimes he leanedhis head against the high back of his chair and went sound asleep.

  Everybody was always wanting her; and her mother said she was a sadlittle gad-about. Even John's wife insisted upon a share of her.Cleanthe wasn't bright and full of fun like Dolly, but she was very fondof the little girl, and both she and John considered it a great treat tohave her come in to tea.

  There was a grand time when Zachary Taylor was inaugurated. Stephen andDolly and the Doctor and Margaret went on to Washington with manyothers. They were fain to take Hanny.

  "Such a crowd is no place for children," said Mrs. Underhill. "There'llbe presidents likely, if the world should stand, and she'll have chancesto go when the journey will do her more good."

  Ben went with Mr. Whitney. And at the eleventh hour, Theodore gave inand said Delia might go, and she needn't rob her bank either.

  Oh, what a splendid time they had! Washington has changed wonderfullysince then; but the White House and some of the government buildings arejust the same. Ben was a little startled at the splendour. Mr. Theodorewas much engrossed with some friends, so Ben and Delia rambled about,lost themselves, and came to light in out-of-the-way places, hunted upfamous spots, and rehearsed old-time stories of brave men and notablewomen. The sail down the Potomac was delightful. There was Alexandriaand Mount Vernon and Richmond, all of which were to become a hundredtimes more famous in the course of a few years. Ben went over thisyouthful trip, so full of delight, many a time when, as a soldier, heslept under the stars, not knowing what the morrow would bring.

  They were just a big boy and girl, in search of fun and knowledge, andthey found plenty of both. Ben made up his mind that, when he did goabroad, Delia certainly should be his companion.

  Margaret and her husband went to Baltimore at once, as they were notpartial to crowds; and Dolly felt that she must get back to thechildren. But Mr. Theodore had some business on hand, so the youngpeople had their holiday lengthened.

  Still the season in New York had been a rather brilliant one, withvarious noted singers. An opera troupe from Havana had been giving somefamous operas; and Hanny was delighted to hear "La Somnambula," becausenow she could compare notes with Daisy Jasper.

  And in May, the famous rivalry between two leading theatres, thatculminated in a great riot, occurred. Edwin Forrest, the great tragedianof that day, and many a year later, and Macready, a celebrated Englishactor, seemed almost pitted against each other in the same play, Hamlet.A certain party coming into existence had taken for its watchwordAmericanism of a rather narrow sort, and was protesting against allforeign influence. Macready had played, and then gone to fulfil anotherengagement, but was to return and play again. Some of the hot headsdecided he should not; and though all precautions were taken, thefeeling was that the better sense of the community would prevent anyabsolute disturbance. But the mob had grown larger and stronger in theirnarrow prejudice, and, before the play was half through, an onslaughtwas made on the opera-house. The rioters were in such force that thefamous Seventh Regiment had to be called out. It was a night of terrorand tragedy, and the whole city was wild with alarm. So serious did itbecome, that it was not quelled without bloodshed; and for days thewhole city seemed amazed that such a thing could have happened.

  But before the surprise and regret had died away, a sudden sound ofalarm ran through the city, in curiously muffled tones that blanched thebravest faces,--a visitant, then feared beyond measure, that science hadnot been able to cope with. People spoke of it with bated breath. It wasnot simply among the poor and destitute, or those indifferent tocleanliness and order, but it spread everywhere,--the dreaded,mysterious cholera.

  The older people remembered the scourge of almost twenty years before,and many of them prepared to fly to places of safety. The plague spot ofthe city was then the old Five Points, where the lowest and poorest,beggars and thieves, and sometimes murderers, had crowded in until itwas a nest to be shunned and feared. Through this tract the plague sweptlike wildfire.

  Margaret had accepted the urgent invitation of the cousins at Tarrytown,and gone thither with her baby, insisting also upon taking her littlesister. Father Underhill was glad to have her out of danger, and wasfain to persuade his wife to follow.

  "No," she said stoutly; "Joe must remain; and you and Stephen cannot runaway from business. With Margaret and Hanny safe, I shall stay to keepwatch over the rest of you. I may be needed."

  Dolly had taken her two children up to her sisters', who lived on theHudson near Fort Washington. Stephen could drive up every day or twowith news of everybody.

  It did not seem at all alarming up at the Morgan's rural home. True,Cousin Famie was aging fast, and had grown more feeble than her yearsreally warranted. Mrs. Eustis was quite the head of the house, and verybright and chatty, with a rather romantic turn of mind, just as fond ofreading as some of the younger folks.

  And it seemed to them as if the world was quite full of famous peoplethen. For beside Cooper and Irving, there were Prescott's splendidhistories, that were full of romance. And for story-writers, MissLeslie, who was entertaining magazine-readers, and Miss Sedgwick andLydia Maria Child. Then there was Hanny's favourite Mrs. Osgood, AliceCarey, and Mrs. Welby coming into notice, and Longfellow, Hawthorne andEmerson. The Doctor brought them up the new magazines, and saideverybody kept well. Ben came up and stayed a week, and added to theirstock of books.

  They went down to Sleepy Hollow, though it had not become so famous forpilgrimages. Mr. Irving had come home from Madrid, and friends droppedin upon him. He always had a delightful welcome for them. They used tosit out on the old porch and talk; or, when there were no guests, histwo nieces and some of his brothers' kept him company.

  Ben summoned up courage and went down to see the charming man, belovedof so many friends, taking his little sister with him. What adelightful hour it was! Hanny was too shy to talk much, although she hadbeen so brave on the poet's old stoop at Fordham. Perhaps, really, therewas no opportunity, Ben kept the floor so entirely. They went in andlooked at the drawings from Rip Van Winkle and Ichabod Crane andKatrina. But she still loved the old history that had charmed her so atfirst, and she would have given him her child's adoration freely, if hehad written nothing else.

  Ben had already seen a number of notable people. They often came in atthe Harpers'. He used to talk them over with Delia; and he thought nowwhat a fascinating story he should have to tell her.

  The next day they went over to see grandmother and Uncle David. Jim wasup making a visit. His mother preferred to have him out of danger. Heand Ben were to go down to Yonkers; and though they were loth to sparethe little girl, she went back to Tarrytown.

  It was October before the Doctor would let Margaret return to the city.Daisy had grown so much, and was talking in a cunning, broken fashion.Mrs. Underhill had made two brief visits; and though she seemed rathernervous for her, she declared, "She had been very well all summer, andthat they had a great deal to be thankful for. She couldn't have leftfather and the boys."

  She had never been so demonstrative to Hanny, much as she had loved her.She kept one arm around her, and could hardly bear her out of hersight.

  "Had she been content, and not made any trouble, and waited upon CousinFamie, and helped all she could? She was such a large girl now, andought to be useful."

  Hanny smiled, and kissed her mother, and said: "She had tried to do herbest. And she had been very, very happy."

  "Cousin Margaret, I do wonder if you appreciate that child," saidRoseann, when Hanny had gone out on the porch to have a romp with littleDaisy. "She's such a smart little thing, and not a bit set up
about it.I've been clear beat to see how she understands books, and people, too.And she's so industrious and pleasant-tempered. She makes me think ofGrandmother Underhill and Aunt Eunice. I do hope you'll be able to keepher. It's a providential mercy she hasn't been in the city all summer.The cholera has been just awful! I don't see how you had the courage tostay."

  "My sons were there." The tears came to Mrs. Underhill's eyes. "Andthough they were spared, they often needed me. No one really can knowwhat it was, unless they have been through it. Joe came home one nightso worn out that he stayed in bed all the next day. I just prayed everymoment; I felt as if I'd never prayed before. And there was all ofJohn's trouble. Yes; many a one has been called upon to part with theirnearest and dearest."

  John Underhill's wife had lost both father and mother, withintwenty-four hours of each other. Then Cleanthe's little baby had beenborn dead; and they had to move her to Mother Underhill's, more deadthan alive; but good care had at last restored her. The old Archercousins in Henry Street had gone; and many another among friends andrelatives.

  They did not tell Hanny until she came home who had gone out of theneighbourhood. Mrs. Reed had been among the first. She was getting readyto go away with Charles, when the summons came. But the greatest sorrowof all to her was the loss of Tudie Dean. She had been rather droopingfor several days; and one night Doctor Joe had been summoned, but invain. Two of the prettiest of the little Jewish children who had come tothe Whitney house were buried on the same day.

  Cleanthe was still at home, as she called her mother-in-law's house. Shewas very pale and wan, and just hugged Hanny to her heart, and criedover her.

  Charlie Reed sorrowed deeply for his mother.

  "I don't just know how it came about," he said tremulously; "but we weregetting to be such friends; she took such a real interest in my studies;and she seemed to want father to be happy in the things he liked. He'smost broken-hearted over it; and the house seems dreadful! Cousin Janeadvises father to break up and board; I think she's kind of nervous, andwants a change. Oh, what a terrible time it has been; I am glad youwere away. And poor little Tudie Dean!"

  They both cried over her. And when she went in to see Josie, she wasalmost heart-broken; for Josie looked so strange and grown-up, and wasso grave.

  Mrs. Dean pressed her to her heart.

  "Thank God, my little dear," she exclaimed, "that your mother hasn't tosorrow over any loss. Your brother has been heroic; and there was onetime when we were all afraid. He was so dead-tired that I know hecouldn't have lived if it had been cholera. The doctors were all heroes;and many of them have given their lives."

  Yet the world went on, over the thousands who had dropped out of it.Business resumed its sway; even amusements started up. But there weremany sad households.

  And though the Underhills had not taken Cleanthe to their hearts withquite the fervor Dolly had awakened, they loved her very tenderly now;and she seemed to slip in among them with a new and closer bond.

  There would be a good deal of business to settle. John thought it betterto look about for a new partner. Mr. Bradley had left quite a fortunefor the times. He had been investing in up-town property, and Johnthought it would be wise to build, and sell or rent as his wife desired.The old home was dismantled, the best of the furniture stored forfurther use.

  He tried to persuade his father to go farther up-town. Joe was also afactor in this matter.

  For though the cholera had spared Dr. Fitch, the infirmities of age andhard work had overtaken him. A nephew who had recently graduated, andhad the prestige of the same name, was anxious to take the practice. Joefelt as if circumstances were shaping a change for him; and he was readynow to take up a life of his own.

  Then the Deans sold, and were to go up a little farther. Sometime, andbefore many years, there would be street-cars, instead of the slow,awkward stages, and people could get to and fro more rapidly. The trendwas unmistakably up-town.

  Mr. Reed hired out his house furnished, and went over to the Deans toboard.

  It seemed to Hanny that no one was quite the same. Nora Whitney wasalmost a head taller than Hanny, and was getting to be a very stylishgirl. Her voice was considered promising, and was being cultivated. Butpoor old Pussy Gray had rounded out his life, and slept under a greatwhite rosebush at the end of the yard. Mrs. Whitney's hair was nearlyall white, and she was a very pretty woman. Mr. Theodore was showingsilver in both hair and beard; but Delia changed very little. Aunt Clemwent on living in her serene and cheerful fashion.

  And then the bells rang out for the mid-century, 1850! How wonderful itseemed.

  "I wonder if any one of us will live to nineteen hundred," questionedHanny, with a strange thrill of awe in her voice.

  "I don't suppose I will," replied her father; "but some of you may.Why, even Stephen wouldn't be much above eighty; and you'll be a littlepast sixty!" He laughed with a mellow, amused sound. "And all you youngpeople of to-day will be telling your grandchildren how New York lookedat the half-century mark. Well, it has made rapid strides since eighteenhundred. I sometimes wonder what there is to happen next. We have steamon land and water. We have discovered Eldorado, and invented thetelegraph; and there are people figuring on laying one across the ocean.That may come in your day."

  "And a sewing-machine," added the little girl, smilingly.

  The sewing-machine was attracting a good deal of attention now, andmaking itself a useful factor.

  But to live to see nineteen hundred! That would be like discovering thefountain of perpetual youth.