The Silver Bottle; or, The Adventures of Little Marlboro in Search of His Father

by J. H. Ingraham

  Such was the testimony and ground which I had to start upon in my resolute purpose to clear up the mystery enveloping my birth. It was slight and uncertain. A long period had elapsed, and each year that had passed lessened the chances of discovery. That I should have been suffered to remain so long (for I was now in my nineteenth year) under the pretection of Dame Darwell, by my parents, the more I dwelt upon it, the more it surprised me and deepened the mystery. It could not be because they did not know where I was? Perhaps my mother had watched me year after year unseen, and that I had often met her unknowingly. What could have been the nature of the extraordinary circumstances that not only first led them to leave me at the Inn, but which rendered it necessary for them for so long a period, to keep aloof from me? The more I dwelt upon it the more the whole subject was involved in painful and impenetrable mystery. This mystery I, however, resolved to clear up, and immediately prepared to take the first step towards the object to which I had now sacredly devoted myself.

  CHAPTER X.

  I put an advertisewent in the papers—My impatience to learn the result—The letter— I depart by Post for Philadelphia—I obtain-a new clue to the line of my destiny— The crest and torn letter.

  Having formed my resolution, I lost no time in acting. I felt I could not do much with the slight materials I possessed towards effecting my end; but as these were my only ground of hope, I determined to make the best of them.— Upon the Silver Bottle I placed my chief dependence. It was the shape and size of a flattened oil flask, made of the purest silver, with a curved silver tube. On one side of it was the device before described, of the eagle trampling on a serpent, his claw crushing the head; a bold, spirited design. Beneath was the initial `M.' This crest having been on the carriage and on the harness, led me to believe that the persons who had brought me here travelled with their own equipage; and the fact of their having a black coachman led me also to believe that they were Southerners. A coach with that device upon it was wholly unknown, hitherto, in that vicinity; and no traveler to whom Dame Darwell told her story of my discovery, had ever heard of such a crest. Whoever my parents were it was evident that they did not belong in the part of the country wherein they had left me. It was naturally a source of gratification to me to be assured that they at least belonged to a good condition of society.

  The `Silver Bottle' Dame Darwell had made me a present of when I left for sea, saying, at the time, it might one day be the means of ascertaining who were my parents. This idea I now seized upon with lively hope. Retiring to my room I took it forth from a locked case in which I kept it, and began examining it with great care and painful interest. I searched to see if it could reveal any thing further. To my surprise I found on the bottom nearly obliterated by being worn smooth; the maker's name! It was with great diffiulty that I could decypher it. But I succeeded in doing so with great joy, believing that this discovery would materially aid me. It was Beufort & Co. Lon—' The name of the place where it was made was nearly obliterated, but I had no doubt that it was London. The reader will at once see what advantage this would give me provided I could ascertain if there was such a Silver-smith's House in London, and learn from it to whom the Silver Bottle had been sold! This I resolved to leave for my last resort, atter trying every means this side of the water. I now sat down and wrote the following advertisement,

  `One hundred dollars reward will be paid to whomsoever will forward to the addresses beneath, the name and residence of any family whose carriage plate, or seal bears the device of an eagle, with his claw upon a scrpent's head, and grasping the folds with the other talon .

  Address the initials `M. D.' at the office of the Boston Daily —.'

  This advertisement I read to my foster-mother, and mounting my horse galloped into Boston with it, the Inn as I have already said, being but nine miles from town. I left instructions with the publisher to request the certain papers in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Charleston, Savannah, Mobile and New Orleans, to copy the advertisement and forward their bills to him for adjustment, at the same time leaving him the amount for this purpose. He stared on reading my advertisement, and remarked if such a crest belonged to any family in the Union, the offer I had made would bring it to light. He asked me no questions. I gave him no explanation and left the office I was now relieved of much of the weight that oppressed my spirits. The messenger of inquiry had gone forth, and might return like the dove bearing an olive leaf. I did not remain in town, but at once returned home and informed Dame Darwell what I had done. She looked pleased and expressed her sincere desire that I might succeed; and I saw that she had thrown aside every feeling of a selfish character, and looked only for my own happiness even, if the discovery of my parents should, in the end, lead to a separation from me. But she knew I should love her no less. Seeing me elated and full of anticipations of the result, she bade me not to be too sanguine, as I might he unsuccessful, and then my spirits would be crushed forever. I must acknowledge I had very little ground for elation; but my spirits being naturally buoyant I was led to hope against hope.

  From the day the advertisement appeared, I was in a state of feverish and nervous expectation. My anxiety was so great that, too impatient to wait the tardy mail from town, and tired of riding in every day to learn its fate, I took up my lodgings at a private house. I avoided the hotels, lest I should meet some who had either known me in college or in the navy, and had heard of my ignominious position before men. For the same reason I shunned public resorts and confined myself almost wholly to my room, once a day visiting only the office of the paper. Three weeks elapsed and no notice had been taken of the advertisement. I had in the meanwhile seen it copied as far South as Charleston, which papers were forwarded to the office. A month elapsed, when one morning as I entered the publishing room, the Editor handed me a letter mailed at Philadelphia, and addressed to,

  `M. D.' care of the Boston Daily —.'

  I tore it open with excitement and attempted to read it; but my hands shook, my whole body trembled; I felt my sight swimming, and I should have tallen but for the support of a chair. I nerved myself to overcome this weakness and again prepared to read the letter. My feelings, however, were still strong and I was too much agitated. I felt that it possibly contained a key to the mystery of my life—and that in a moment my happiness would be secured or destroyed forever! At length I recovered composure enough to read:

  `Philadelphia, - September 20, 184—

  Sir,—I have seen an advertisement this morning in one of the papers offering a reward of one hundred dollars for any information touching a device of an eagle treading upon a serpent. Although I do not covet the reward, I desire to serve you, if I can do so. Your advertisement brought to my recollection, a carriage which I painted twenty years ago (for I am by occupation a painter) on which I painted this very device, as I find on referring to my book where I keep patterns of every thing I have ever done in that way. The carriage was a double barouche, light yellow, and highly burnished. Trusting this little information I can give you may be of some service, I remain,

  Very respectfully yours, James Merton.'

  The reader will easily conceive my emotions on reading this. It conveyed, indeed, nothing definite or positive respecting my parents, but it connected the broken link to a time prior to that on which they had come to the Inn. It confirmed the accuracy of my foster-mother's description of the carriage, and that this was the very carriage I had no manner of doubt. I had, at least, effected something! It was one step and might lead to another of infinite importance. I was filled with joy and hope. The Editor who, a few moments before had noticed my paleness and agitation, now looked at my flushed cheek and sparkling eyes with surprise.

  That same forenoon I placed the letter in Dame Darwell's hands, and I was greatly pleased to listen to her exclamations of surprise at the extraordinary discovery of the painter of the coach. The letter at once led my thoughts to Philadelphia, where I now believed my parents had lived. Thither I resolved to proc
eed without delay to call in person on the coach painter. My foster-mother wept at parting with me, and urged me to write to her and inform her of the progress I made in my search. The third day after leaving home I reached Philadelphia. It was already dark when I got to a quiet hotel in Third street. I immediately examined a directory seeking for the house of Mr. Merton. It was on Ninth street, near Race, and thither I directed my steps; for till I had seen him I felt neither like eating nor sleeping. I found the exterior of the house handsome and prepossessing. On ringing and saying I desierd to see Mr. Merton, I was ushered into a handsomely furnished parlor. I knew that many of the mechanics of Philadelphia lived in good style and were rich, or I should have believed that I had entered the wrong house. An astral lamp was burning on a marble centre table. An inner door opened and my heart throbbed violently at the idea that I was about to meet one whom my unknown father had probably spoken with. An elderly gentleman entered and bowed.

  `Mr. Merton, I presume,' I said, returning the salutation.

  `Yes, sir.'

  `I had the pleasure recently of receiving from you a letter addressed to Boston in reply to an advertisement,' I said with a nervous agitation, which I have no doubt my kind readers will deem excusable when they consider how much reason I had to feel agitated.

  `Mr. `M. D?' ' said Mr. Merton interrogtaively.

  I bowed.

  `Be seated, sir.'

  `I have called,' I said, `to thank you for your obliging letter, and to —'

  `Don't speak of it, my dear sir; and if you were about to say anything about paying the reward I can't listen to you. I only did my duty. It was by mere accident that I discovered the advertisement. My little son's eye caught it and asked me if I ever had painted such a crest as that, and said he believed he had seen one in my book of cyphers. I took the paper and reading it referred to my book, found it and recollected distinctly when I painted it. It was in the fall of '21!'

  `Can you now remember, sir,' I tremblingly asked; `who it was that employed you to paint the crest?'

  `It was a gentlemen—an entire stranger to me. He had bought the carriage new of a builder next door to mine and sent it to me to paint. With it he gave me the crest.'

  `Have you the pattern he gave you?'

  `It is pasted in my book. I will show it to you if it will interest you.'

  `Deeply sir.'

  He left the room and in a moment returned with a large folio of blank leaves, and opening it to the date of 1821 placed his finger on a crest such as had been described by me in the advertisement. It was done in colors on a piece of white paper and very beautifully though hastily executed. While I was regarding it attentively and with mixed feelings of awe and curiosity, he said,

  `I remember the circumstances perfectly. The stranger came to me and asked me if I could paint the carriage and have it done by such a day. I told him I could. He then said he would like to have a crest upon it, and asking me if I had a brush and colors, said he would sketch the design. He went into the shop and in a few seconds sketched this for me to copy. He handled a brush as though he had been apprenticed to the trade, and I never saw anything done quicker nor with finer effect. The eagle I painted on the coach had not half the spirit of this original!'

  `Sir,' said I with emotion I could not conceal, this little sketch would be invaluable to me. If I dare be so bold as to ask you to part with it!'

  `It is at your service, sir; and I am happy to have it in my power to oblige you. You seem deeply interested in this matter, sir!'

  `I am indeed, sir,' I replied; and won by his benevolent and friendly manner, I related to him briefly my history and the object of my advertisement. He listened with deep attention, and after I had ended said,

  `I can never too often congratulate myself for having written to you. Your story is one of touching interest. I regret I cannot contribute more towards the furtherance of your purpose. I only saw your father (as I have no doubt he was, for as I recal his form and features I can see a resemblance to them in you) I saw him but twice, and but for a few moments each time. He was a tall, noble looking man and under thirty years of age. If now living he must be fifty.'

  `Was he dressed in mourning?'

  `No. His dress was strikingly elegant as were his manners. He looked to me more like a foreigner than an American.'

  `Was he accompanied by a lady on either occasion?'

  `No.'

  `Did you ascertain his name?'

  `It is my impression I did at the time, but I have forgotten it!'

  `This is indeed unfortunate,' I said with a tone of disappointment. `It might have led to a discovery.'

  `Perhaps I can assist you. The coach maker is still living and doubtless has his name on the bill for the carriage. Remain with me to-night my young friend, and to-morrow I will see what I can do. I also remember now that he stopped at Head's Hotel, which proves he was a stranger in town; and by going there to-morrow we may find, by referring back to the date, his name on the books.'

  `This idea gave me fresh hope; and thanking the benevolent Mr. Merton for his obliging reception of me and my affair, I gratefully declined his invitation and returned to my hotel, bearing away with me the crest which my father, as I believed him to be, had sketched with his own eye and hand. I had now a relic and memento of each; her note to my foster mother and this sketch! On reaching my room I sat down to examine it and gaze upon it and indulge the feelings the sight had produced. Turning it over I saw to my surprise, writing upon the back. The paper, I at once saw, had been part of the subscription to a letter. The letters remaining were

  `To F. R. Mar'—. -

  The remainder was gone! The initials were the same as those on the trunk and thus the link was made stronger. I had also advanced another step—a great step in gaining two letters after the initial.

  CHAPTER XI.

  Little Marlboro' makes a visit to Head's Hotel—The investigation—The negro and his testimony to the past—The trunk—The coachman—The return of Little Marlboro' to the Inn—His resolution to proceed to England—His adieus.

  The unexpected possession of the additional links in the chain of my destiny, mentioned in the last chapter, filled me with bounding hopes. That I had got hold of the clue to my parentage I had not the least doubt. The crest given me by the coachmaker was indentical with that upon the Silver Bottle, and the initials of the name upon the torn letter were the same as those Dame Darwell had remarked on the trunk of the mysterious travellers who had occupied the Court Chamber. The gentleman described by Mr. Merton as having sketched the crest precisely answered the description given by the good dame of the traveler in black. The time, also, was the same, he being in Philadelphia only six weeks before the carriage stopped at the Inn, which left time for an easy journey to this place. All these circumstances formed links of the chain which I was now resolved to trace to its end.

  Early the ensuing morning, after taking a hearty breakfast, I proceeded to Head's Hotel, a stately building a little retired from the street, and originally the private mansion of a distinguished citizen. This hotel had a high reputation and was much frequented by wealthy Southerners. The fact that the stranger had also stopped there, strengthened my belief in the idea I had formed, from his having a black servant, that he was a southerner. It was this impression that had led me to send my advertisement to Charleston and other southern cities.

  On entering the door of the hotel, I felt the blood mounting to my face with the emotions that came over me at the thought that probably the feet of my father had crossed the same threshold! I was also deeply moved at the reflection that in a moment or two I should be able to learn the name and residence of the person to whom the torn letter was addressed—and which might prove to be that of my father! The clerk saw my embarrassment and fixed his eyes with curiosity upon me as after several efforts I finally succeeded in asking him if he kept the records of the travellers who stopped at the hotel in 1821. The question was heard by the host who stepping up, surveye
d me a moment and then said with his pleasant smile—