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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
Anna dropped her head on her bosom, and blushed scarlet.
In all her day – dreams of happiness with John Wilmeter, the
very reverse of the feeling now alluded to, had been uppermost
in her mind; and to her nothing had ever seemed half as sweet
as the picture of leaning on him for support, guidance, authority, and advice. The thought of independence would have been
painful to her; for a principle of nature, the instinct of her sex,
taught her that the part of woman was “to love, honour, and
obey.” As for Mary Monson, she quailed a little before the severe eye of Dunscomb; but education, the accidents of life, and
possibly a secret principle of her peculiar temperament, united
to stimulate her to maintain her original ground.
“I know not what may be the particular notions of Miss
Updyke,” returned this singular being, “but I can feel my own
longings. They are all for independence. Men have not dealt
fairly by women. Possessing the power, they have made all the
laws, fashioned all the opinions of the world, in their own favour. Let a woman err, and she can never rise from her fall;
while men live with impunity in the midst of their guilt. If
a woman think differently from those around her, she is expected to conceal her opinions, in order to receive those of
her masters. Even in the worship of God, the highest and most
precious of all our duties, she is expected to play a secondary
part, and act as if the Christian Faith favoured the sentiment
of another, which teaches that women have no souls.”
“All this is as old as the repinings of a very treacherous nature, young lady,” answered Dunscomb, coolly; “and I have often heard it before. It is not surprising, however, that a young,
handsome, highly – educated, and I presume rich, person of
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
your sex, should be seduced by notions seemingly so attractive,
and long for what she will be apt to term the emancipation of
her sex. This is an age of emancipation; prudent grey – headed
men become deluded, and exhibit their folly by succumbing
to a wild and exceedingly silly philanthropical hurrah! Even
religion is emancipated! There are churches, it is true; but they
exist as appendages of society, instead of being divine institutions, established for the secret purposes of unerring wisdom;
and we hear men openly commending this or that ecclesiastical organization, because it has more or less of the savour of
republicanism. But one new dogma remains to be advanced
that the government of the universe is democratical in which
the `music of the spheres’ is a popular song; and the disappearance of a world a matter to be referred to the people in their
primary capacity. Among other absurdities of the hour is a new
law, giving to married women the control of their property,
and drawing a line of covetousness across the bolster of every
marriage bed in the State!”
“Surely, Mr. Dunscomb, a man of your integrity, character,
manliness, and principles, would defend the weaker sex in the
maintenance of its rights against prodigality, tyranny, and neglect!”
“These are so many words, my dear ma’am, and are totally
without meaning, when thoroughly sifted. God created woman
to be a help – meet to manto comfort, solace, and aid him in
his pursuit after worldly happiness; but always in a dependent
relation. The marriage condition, viewed in its every – day aspect, has sufficient causes of disagreement, without drawing in
this of property. One of the dearest and nearest of its ties, in-
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
deed, that of a perfect identification of interests, is at once cut
off by this foolish, not to say wicked attempt to light the torch
of contention in every household. It were better to teach our
women not to throw themselves away on men who cannot be
trusted; to inculcate the necessity of not marrying in haste to
repent at leisure, than to tinker the old, venerable, and long –
tried usages of our fathers, by crotchets that come far more
from the feverish audacity of ignorance, than from philosophy
or wisdom. Why, unless the courts interpose their prudence
to rectify the blunders of the legislature, as they have already
done a hundred times, the labourer’s wife may have her action
against her husband for the earthen bowl he has broken; and
the man may be sued by the wife for rent! The happiness of
every home is hourly put in jeopardy, in order that, now and
then, a wife may be saved from the courses of a speculator or
a spendthrift.”
“Might not this have been done before, uncle Tom, by
means of settlements?” asked Anna, with interest. “Certainly;
and that it is which renders all this silly quackery so much
the worse. In those cases in which the magnitude of the stake
might seem to demand extraordinary care, the means already
existed for providing all useful safeguards; and any new legislation was quite unnecessary. This very law will produce twenty – fold more unhappiness in families, than it will prevent of
misery, by setting up distinct, and often conflicting interests,
among those who ought to live as `bone of their bone, and
flesh of their flesh.”
“You do not give to woman her proper place in society, Mr.
Dunscomb,” returned Mary Monson, haughtily; “your com-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
ments are those of a bachelor. I have heard of a certain Miss
Millington, who once had an interest with you, and who, if living, would have taught you juster sentiments on this subject.”
Dunscomb turned as white as a sheet; his hand and lip
quivered; and all desire to continue the discourse suddenly
left him. The gentle Anna, ever attentive to his wishes and ailings, stole to his side, silently offering a glass of water. She had
seen this agitation before, and knew there was a leaf in “Uncle
Tom’s” history that he did not wish every vulgar eye to read.
As for Mary Monson, she went into her cell, like one who
declined any further communication with her counsel. Timms
was struck with her lofty and decided manner; but stood too
much in awe of her, to interpose a remonstrance. After a few
minutes taken by Dunscomb to regain his self – command,
and a brief consultation together, the two lawyers quitted the
prison. All this time, the accused remained in her cell, in resentful silence, closely and anxiously watched by the searching eye of her senior attendant.
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CHAPTER XIX
“Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault’s but small,
It might be pardoned.”
The Orphan
Perhaps no surer test of high principles, as it is certain no
more accurate test of high breeding can be found, than a distaste for injurious gossip. In woman, subject as she is unquestionably by her education, habits, and active curiosity, to the
influence of this vice, its existence is deplorable, leading to a
thousand wrongs, among the chief of which is a false appreciation of ourselves; but, when men submit to so vile a propensity, they become contemptible, as well as wicked. As a result
of long observation, we should say that those who are most
obnoxious to the just condemnation of the world, are the most
addicted to finding faults in others; and it is only the comparatively good, who are so because they are humble, that abstain
from meddling and dealing in scandal.
When one reflects on the great amount of injustice that is
thus inflicted, without even the most remote hope of reparation, how far a loose, ill – considered and ignorant remark will
float on the tongues of the idle, how much unmerited misery
is oftentimes entailed by such unweighed assertions and opin-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
ions, and how small is the return of benefit in any form whatever, it would almost appear a necessary moral consequence
that the world, by general consent, would determine to eradicate so pernicious an evil, in the common interest of mankind.
That it does not, is probably owing to the power that is still left
in the hands of the Father of Sin, by the Infinite Wisdom that
has seen fit to place us in this condition of trial. The parent of
all lies, gossip, is one of the most familiar of the means he employs to put his falsehoods in circulation.
This vice is heartless and dangerous when confined to its
natural limits, the circles of society; but, when it invades the
outer walks of life, and, most of all, when it gets mixed up with
the administration of justice, it becomes a tyrant as ruthless
and injurious in its way, as he who fiddled while Rome was in
flames. We have no desire to exaggerate the evils of the state
of society in which we live; but an honest regard to truth will,
we think, induce every observant man to lament the manner
in which this power, under the guise of popular opinion, penetrates into all the avenues of the courts, corrupting, perverting,
and often destroying, the healthful action of their systems.
Biberry furnished a clear example of the truth of these remarks on the morning of the day on which Mary Monson was
to be tried. The gaol – window had its crowd of course; and
though the disposition of curtains, and other similar means of
concealment, completely baffled vulgar curiosity, they could
not cloak the resentful feelings to which this reserve gave
birth. Most of those who were drawn thither belonged to a
class who fancied it was not affliction enough to be accused of
two of the highest crimes known to the laws; but that to this
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
grievous misfortune should be added a submission to the stare
of the multitude. It was the people’s laws the accused was supposed to have disregarded; and it was their privilege to anticipate punishment, by insult.
“Why don’t she show herself, and let the public look on
her?” demanded one curious old man, whose head had whitened under a steadily increasing misconception of what the
rights of this public were. “I’ve seen murderers afore now,
and ain’t a bit afeard on ‘em, if they be well ironed and look’d
a’ter.”
This sally produced a heartless laugh; for, sooth to say,
where one feels, under such circumstances, as reason, and justice, and revelation would tell them to feel, ten feel as the demons prompt.
“You cannot expect that a lady of fashion, who plays on the
harp and talks French, will show her pretty face to be gazed at
by common folk,” rejoined a shabby – genteel sort of personage, out of whose waistcoat – pocket obtruded the leaves of
a small notebook, and the end of a gold pen. This man was a
reporter, rendered malignant by meeting with opposition to
his views of imagining that the universe was created to furnish
paragraphs for newspapers. He was a half – educated European, who pronounced all his words in a sort of boarding –
school dialect, as if abbreviation offended a taste `sicken’d over
by learning.’
Another laugh succeeded this supercilious sneer; and
three or four lads, half – grown and clamorous, called aloud
the name of “Mary Monson,” demanding that she should show
herself. At that moment the accused was on her knees, with
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Anna Updyke at her side, praying for that support which, as
the crisis arrived, she found to be more and more necessary!
Changing from the scene to the open street, we find a pettifogger, one secretly prompted by Williams, spreading a report that had its origin no one knew where, but which was
gradually finding its way to the ears of half the population of
Duke’s, exciting prejudice and inflicting wrong.
“It’s the curi’stest story I ever heard,” said Sam Tongue, as
the pettifogger was usually styled, though his real name was
Hubbs; “and one so hard to believe, that, though I tell it, I call
on no man to believe it. You see, gentlemen” the little group
around him was composed of suitors, witnesses, jurors, grandjurors, and others of a stamp that usually mark these several
classes of men “that the account now is, that this Mary Monson was sent abroad for her schoolin’ when only ten years old;
and that she staid in the old countries long enough to l’arn
to play the harp, and other deviltries of the same natur’. It’s
a misfortin’, as I say, for any young woman to be sent out of
Ameriky for an edication. Edication, as everybody knows, is the
great glory of our country; and a body would think that what
can’t be l’arn’t here, isn’t worth knowin’.”
This sentiment was well received, as would be any opinion
that asserted American superiority, with that particular class of
listeners. Eye turned to eye, nod answered nod, and a murmur
expressive of approbation passed through the little crowd.
“But there was no great harm in that,” put in a person
named Hicks, who was accustomed to connect consequences
with their causes, and to trace causes down to their conse-
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
quences. “Anybody might have been edicated in France as well
as Mary Monson. That will hardly tell ag’in her on the trial.”
“I didn’t say it would,” answered Sam Tongue; “though it’s
gin’rally conceded that France is no country for religion or
true freedom. Give me religion and freedom, say I; a body can
get along with bad crops, or disapp’intments in gin’ral, so long
as he has plenty of religion and plenty of freedom.”
Another murmur, another movement in the group, and
other nods denoted the spirit in which this was received too.
“All this don’t make ag’in Mary Monson; ‘specially as you
say she was sent abroad so young. It wasn’t her fault if her parents”
“She had no parentsthere’s the great mystery of her case.
Never had, so far as can be discovered. A gal without parents,
without fri’nds of any sort, is edicated in a foreign land, l’arns
to speak foreign tongues, plays on foreign music, and comes
home a’ter she’s grown up, with her pockets as full as if she’d
been to Californy and met a vein; and no one can tell where it
all come from!”
“Well, that won’t tell ag’in her, ne’ther,” rejoined Hicks,
who had now defended the accused so much that he began to
take an interest in her acquittal. “Evidence must be direct, and
have a p’int, to tell ag’in man or woman. As for Californy, it’s
made lawful by treaty, if Congress will only let it alone.”
“I know that as well as the best lawyer in Duke’s; but char-
acter can tell ag’in an accused, as is very likely to be shown in
the Oyer and Tarminer of this day. Character counts, let me
tell you, when the facts get a little confused; and this is just
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
what I was about to say. Mary Monson has money; where does
it come from?”
“Those that think her guilty say that it comes from poor
Mrs. Goodwin’s stockin’,” returned Hicks, with a laugh; “but,
for my part, I’ve seen that stockin’, and am satisfied it didn’t
hold five hundred dollars, if it did four.”
Here the reporter out with his notes, scribbling away for
some time. That evening a paragraph, a little altered to give
it point and interest, appeared in an evening paper, in which
the conflicting statements of Tongue and Hicks were so presented, that neither of these worthies could have recognised
his own child. That paper was in Biberry next morning, and
had no inconsiderable influence, ultimately, on the fortunes
of the accused.
In the bar – room of Mrs. Horton, the discussion was also
lively and wily on this same subject. As this was a place much
frequented by the jurors, the agents of Timms and Williams
were very numerous in and around that house. The reader is
not to suppose that these men admitted directly to themselves
even, the true character of the rascally business in which they
were engaged; for their employers were much too shrewd not
to cover, to a certain degree, the deformity of their own acts.
One set had been told that they were favouring justice, bringing down aristocratic pride to the level of the rights of the
mass, demonstrating that this was a free country, by one of
the very vilest procedures that ever polluted the fountains of
justice at their very source. On the other hand, the agents of
Timms had been persuaded that they were working in behalf
of a persecuted and injured woman, who was pressed upon by
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