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AFLOAT AND ASHORE
“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 fel-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
low 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
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AFLOAT AND ASHORE
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.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
All this time, Neb had been overlooked. He had followed
us to the house, however, and was already engaged in a darkcoloured 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
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AFLOAT AND ASHORE
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!”
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
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
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AFLOAT AND ASHORE
“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.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“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 – ”
“Oh! easily enough, for that matter; a young fellow can
hardly have lived nine months in the same cabin with Emily,
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AFLOAT AND ASHORE
and not think of her, when hard pushed; I will give you, Miss
Emily Merton.”
The toast was drunk, and I thought Mr. Hardinge looked
thoughtful, like one who had a guardian’s cares, and that Grace
was even grave. I did not dare look at Lucy, though I could have
toasted her all night, had it been in rule to drink a person who
was present. We began to chat again, and I had answered some
eight or ten questions, when Mrs. Bradfort, much too precise
to make any omissions, reminded us that we had not yet been
honoured with Miss Lucy Hardinge’s toast. Lucy had enjoyed
plenty of time to reflect; and she bowed, paused a moment as if
to summon resolution, and then mentioned –
“Mr. Andrew Drewett.”
So, then, Lucy Hardinge toasted this Mr. Drewett – the very
youth with whom she had been in such animated discourse,
when I first met the party! Had I been more familiar with the
world, I should have thought nothing of a thing that was so
common; or, did I understand human nature better, I might
have known that no sensitive and delicate woman would betray a secret that was dear to her, under so idle a form. But I
was young, and ready myself to toast the girl I preferred before the universe; and I could not make suitable allowances
for difference of sex and temperament. Lucy’s toast made me
very uncomfortable for the rest of the evening; and I was not
sorry when Rupert reminded me that it was eleven, and that
he would go with me to a tavern, in order to look for a room.
The next morning was passed in transacting the business
of the ship. I found myself much noticed among the merchants
and ship-masters; and one of my owners took me on ‘Change,
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
that I might see and be seen. As the papers had spoken of the
recapture of the Crisis, on the arrival of the Pretty Poll, and
had now each an article on the arrival of the ship, I had every reason to be satisfied with my reception. There are men so
strong in principle, as well as intellect, I do suppose, that they
can be content with the approbation of their own consciences,
and who can smile at the praises or censure of the world, alike;
but I confess to a strong sympathy with the commendation of
my fellow-creatures, and as strong a distaste for their disapprobation. I know this is not the way to make a very great man;
for he who cannot judge, feel and act for himself, will always
he in danger of making undue sacrifices to the wishes of others; but you can have no more of a cat than the skin; and I was
sufficiently proud at finding myself a miniature hero, about
the lower end of Wall-street, and in the columns of the newspapers. As for these last, no one can complain of their zeal in
extolling everything national. To believe them, the country
never was wrong, or defeated, or in a condition to be defeated,
except when a political opponent could be made to suffer by an
opposite theory; and then nothing was ever right. As to fame,
I have since discovered they consider that of each individual
to be public property, in which each American has a part and
parcel – the editors, themselves, more than the man who has
thrown the article into the common lot. But I was young in
1802, and even a paragraph in my praise in a newspaper had
a certain charm for me, that I will not deny. Then I had done
well, as even my enemies, if I had any must have admitted.
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