University of Virginia Library

3. CHAPTER III.

Some little while elapsed, after the horses had
resumed their journey, ere Marmaduke Temple
was sufficiently recovered from his agitation, to
scan the person of his new companion. He now
observed, that he was a youth of some two or
three and twenty years of age; and rather above
the middle height. Further observation was prevented
by the rough over-coat, which was belted
close to his form by a worsted sash, much like
the one worn by the old hunter. The eyes of the
Judge, after resting a moment on the figure of the
stranger, were raised to a scrutiny of his countenance.
There had been a contraction of the
brows, and a look of care, visible in the features
of the youth, when he first entered the sleigh, that
had not only attracted the notice of Elizabeth,
but which she had been much puzzled to interpret.
The passion seemed the strongest when he
was enjoining his old companion to secrecy; and
when he had decided, and was, rather passively,
suffering himself to be conveyed to the village, the
expression of the young man's eyes by no means
indicated any great degree of self-satisfaction at

the step. But the lines of an uncommonly prepossessing
countenance were gradually becoming
composed; and he now sate in silent and, apparently,
abstracted musing. The Judge gazed at
him for some time with earnestness, and then smiling
as if at his own forgetfulness, he spoke—

“I believe, my young friend, that terror has
driven your name from my recollection—your
face is very familiar to me, and yet for the honour
of a score of buck's-tails in my cap, I could not
tell your name.”

“I came into the county but three weeks since,
sir,” returned the youth coldly, “and, I understand
you have been absent more than that time.”

“It will be five to-morrow. Yet your face is
one that I have seen; though it would not be
strange, such has been my affright, should I see
thee in thy winding-sheet, walking by my bed-side,
to-night. What say'st thou Bess? Am I
compos mentis or not?—Fit to charge a grand jury.
or, what is just now of more pressing necessity,
able to do the honours of a Christmas-eve, in the
hall of Templeton?”

“More able to do either, my dear father,”
said a playful voice from under the ample enclosures
of the hood, “than to kill deer with a smooth-bore.”
A short pause followed; and the same
voice, but in a different accent continued—“We
shall have good reasons for our thanksgivings to-night,
on more accounts than one.”

A slightly scornful smile passed over the features
of the youth, at the archness of the first part
of this speech; but it instantly vanished, as he listened
to the tremulous tones in which it was concluded.
The Judge, also, seemed to be affected
with the consciousness of how narrowly he had escaped
taking the life of a fellow-creature, and for
some time, there was a dead silence in the sleigh.

The horses soon reached a point, where they
seemed to know by instinct that their journey was
nearly ended, and, bearing on the bits, as they
tossed their heads, uneasily, up and down, they
rapidly drew the sleigh over the level land, which
lay on the top of the mountain, and soon came to
the point where the road descended suddenly, but
circuitously, into the valley.

The Judge was roused from his reflections,
when he saw the four columns of dense smoke,
which floated along the air from his own chimneys.
As house, village, and valley burst on his
sight. he exclaimed cheerfully to his daughter—

“See, Bess, there is thy resting-place for life!
And thine too, young man, if thou wilt consent to
dwell with us.”

The eyes of the youth and maiden involuntarily
met, as the Judge, in the warmth of his feelings,
thus included them in an association which was
to endure so long; and if the deepening colour,
that, notwithstanding her hood, might be seen
gathering over the face even to the forehead of
Elizabeth, was contradicted in its language by the
proud expression of her eye, the scornful but covert
smile that again played about the lips of the
stranger, seemed equally to deny the probability
of his consenting to form one of this family group.
The scene was one, however, which might easily
warm a heart less given to philanthropy than that
of Marmaduke Temple.

The side of the mountain, on which our travellers
were journeying, though not absolutely
perpendicular, was yet so steep as to render great
care necessary in descending the rude and narrow
path, which, in that early day, wound along
the precipices. The negro reined in his impatient
steeds, and time was given to Elizabeth to
dwell on a scene which was so rapidly altering

under the hands of man, that it only resembled,
in its outlines, the picture she had so often studied,
with delight, in her childhood. On the right, and
stretching for several miles to the north, lay a narrow
plain, buried among mountains, which, falling
occasionally, jutted in long low points, that were
covered with tall trees, into the valley; and then
again, for miles, stretched their lofty brows perpendicularly
along its margin, nourishing in the
crags that formed their sides, pines and hemlocks
thinly interspersed with chesnut and beech, which
grew in lines nearly parallel to the mountains
themselves. The dark foliage of the evergreens
was brilliantly contrasted by the glittering whiteness
of the plain, which exhibited, over the tops
of the trees, and through the vistas formed by the
advancing points of the hills, a single sheet of unspotted
snow, relieved occasionally by a few small
dark objects that were discovered, as they were passing
directly beneath the feet of the travellers, to be
sleighs moving in various directions. On the western
border of the plain, the mountains, though equally
high, were less precipitous, and as they receded,
opened into irregular valleys and glens, and were
formed into terraces and hollows that admitted of
cultivation. Although the evergreens still held dominion
over many of the hills that rose on this
side of the valley, yet the undulating outlines of
the distant mountains, covered with forests of beech
and maple, gave a relief to the eye, and the promise
of a kinder soil. Occasionally, spots of white
were discoverable amidst the forests of the opposite
hills, that announced, by the smoke which
curled over the tops of the trees, the habitations
of man, and the commencement of agriculture.
These spots were sometimes, by the aid of united
labour enlarged into what were called settlements;
but more frequently were small and insulated;
though so rapid were the changes, and so persevering
the labours of those who had cast their fortunes
on the success of the enterprise, that it was
not difficult for the imagination of Elizabeth to
conceive they were enlarging under her eye,
while she was gazing, in mute wonder, at the alterations
that a few short years had made in the aspect
of the country. The points on the western
side of the plain were both larger and more numerous
than those on its eastern, and one in particular
thrust itself forward in such a manner,
as to form beautifully curved bays of snow on either
side. On its extreme end a mighty oak
stretched forward, as if to overshadow, with its
branches, a spot which its roots were forbidden
to enter. It had released itself from the
thraldom, that a growth of centuries had imposed
on the branches of the surrounding forest trees,
and threw its gnarled and fantastic arms abroad,
in all the wildness of unrestrained liberty. A
dark spot of a few acres in extent at the southern
extremity of this beautiful flat, and immediately
under the feet of our travellers, alone showed, by
its rippling surface, and the vapours which exhaled
from it, that what at first might seem a plain, was
one of the mountain lakes, locked in the frosts of
winter. A narrow current rushed impetuously
from its bosom at the open place we have mentioned,
and might be traced for a few miles, as it
wound its way towards the south through the real
valley, by its borders of hemlock and pine, and
by the vapour which arose from its warmer surface
into the chill atmosphere of the hills. The
banks of this lovely basin, at its outlet. or southern
end, were steep but not high; and in that direction
the land continued for many miles a narrow
but level plain, along which the settlers had
scattered their humble habitations, with a profusion
that bespoke the quality of the soil, and the
comparative facilities of intercourse. Immediately
on the bank of the lake, stood the village
of Templeton. It consisted of about fifty buildings,
including those of every description, chiefly
built of wood, and which, in their architecture,
bore not only strong marks of the absence of taste,
but also, by the slovenly and unfinished appearance
of most of the dwellings, indicated the
hasty manner of their construction. To the eye,
they presented a variety of colours. A few were
white in both front and rear, but more bore that
expensive colour on their fronts only, while their
economical but ambitious owners had covered
the remaining sides of their edifices with a dingy
red. One or two were slowly assuming the russet
of age; while the uncovered beams that were
to be seen through the broken windows of their
second stories, showed, that either the taste, or the
vanity of their proprietors, had led them to undertake
a task which they were unable to accomplish.
The whole were grouped together in a manner
that aped the streets of a city, and were evidently
so arranged, by the directions of one, who looked
far ahead to the wants of posterity, rather than
to the convenience of the present incumbents.
Some three or four of the better sort of buildings,
in addition to the uniformity of their colour, were
fitted with green blinds, that were rather strangely
contrasted to the chill aspect of the lake, the
mountains, the forests, and the wide fields of snow.
Before the doors of these pretending dwellings,
were placed a few saplings either without
branches, or possessing only the feeble shoots
of one or two summers' growth, that looked not
unlike tall grenadiers on post, near the threshold of
princes. In truth, the occupants of these favoured
habitations were the nobles of Templeton, as Marmaduke
was its king. They were the dwellings
of two young men who were cunning in the law; an
equal number of that class who chaffered to supply
the wants of the community, under the significant
title of store-keepers; and a disciple of ÆÆsculapius,
who, for a novelty, brought more subjects into
the world than he sent out of it. In the midst
of this incongruous group of dwellings, rose the
mansion of the Judge, towering proudly above all
its neighbours. It stood in the centre of an enclosure
that included several acres, which were
covered with fruit-trees. Some of these were of
Indian origin, and began already to assume the
moss and inclination of age, therein forming a
very marked contrast to the infant plantations that
peered over most of the picketed fences in the
village. In addition to this show of cultivation,
were two rows of young poplars, a tree but lately
introduced into America, formally lining either
side of a pathway, which led from a gate, that
opened on the principal street, to the front door
of the building. The house itself had been built
entirely under the superintendence of a Mr. Richard
Jones, whom we have already mentioned, and
who, from a certain cleverness in small matters,
and his willingness to exert his talents, added
to the circumstance of their being sisters' children,
ordinarily superintended all the minor
concerns of Marmaduke Temple's business. Richard
was fond of saying, that this child of his
invention, consisted of nothing more nor less, than
what should form the ground work of a clergyman's
discourse; viz. a firstly, and a lastly. He
had commenced his labours in the first year of
their residence, by erecting a tall, gaunt edifice
of wood, with its gable towards the highway. In
this shelter, for it was but little more, the family
resided for three years. By the end of that period,
Richard had completed his design. He had
availed himself, in this heavy undertaking, of the
experience of a certain wandering, eastern mechanic,
who, by exhibiting a few solid plates of
English architecture, and talking learnedly of
friezes, entablatures, and particularly of the composite
order, had obtained a very undue influence
over Richard's taste, in every thing that pertained
to that branch of the fine arts. Not but
what Mr. Jones affected to consider Mr. Hiram
Doolittle a perfect empyric in his profession; being
in the constant habit of listening to his treatises
on architecture, with a kind of indulgent
smile, yet, either from an inability to oppose
them by any thing plausible from his own stores
of learning, or from a secret admiration of their
truth, Richard generally submitted to the arguments
of his coadjutor. Together, they had not
only erected a dwelling for Marmaduke, but had
given a fashion to the architecture of the country.
The composite order, Mr. Doolittle would contend,
was an order composed of many others, and
was intended to be the most useful, for it admitted
into its construction such alterations as convenience
or circumstances might require. To this
proposition Richard very gravely assented; and
it was by this unison in sentiment that the composite
order, or a style of architecture that emanated
from the carpenter's own genius, with a few
suggestions from the other, became the fashion of
the new county.

The house itself, or the “lastly,” was of stone;
large, square, formal, and far from uncomfortable.
These were four requisites, on which Marmaduke
had insisted with a little more than his ordinary
pertinacity. But every thing else was peaceably
resigned to Richard and his associate. These
worthies found but little opportunity for the display

of their talents on a stone edifice, excepting
in the roof and in the porch. The former, it was
soon decided, should be made with four faces and
a platform, in order to hide a part of the building
that all writers agreed was an object that ought
to be concealed. To this arrangement, Marmaduke
objected the heavy snows that lay for
months, frequently covering the earth to a depth
of three or four feet. Happily, the facilities of
the composite order presented themselves to effect
a compromise, and the rafters were lengthened, so
as to give a descent that should carry off the frozen
element. But unluckily, some mistake was
made in the admeasurement of these material
parts of the fabric, and as one of the greatest recommendations
of Hiram, was his ability to work
by the “square rule,” no opportunity was found
of discovering the effect that was to be produced
by this offspring of compound genius, until the
massive timbers were raised, with much labour, on
the four walls of the building. Then, indeed, it
was soon seen, that, in defiance of all rule, the
roof was by far the most conspicuous part of the
edifice. Richard and his associate consoled themselves
with the belief, that the covering would aid
in concealing this unnatural elevation; but every
shingle that was laid, was only multiplying objects
to look at. Richard essayed to remedy the evil
with paint, and four different colours were laid on
by his own hands. The first was a sky-blue, in
the vain expectation that the eye might be cheated
into the belief, it was the heavens themselves
that hung so imposingly over Marmaduke's dwelling;
the second was, what he called, a “cloud-colour,”
being nothing more nor less than an imitation
of light smoke; the third was what Richard
termed an invisible green, which he laid on
with a belief, that the deformity might be blended
with the back-ground of pines, that rose, in tall
grandeur, but a short distance in the rear of the
mansion house. But all these ingenious expedients
entirely failed, and our artists relinquished the
desire to conceal, and attempted to ornament, the
offensive member. The last colour that Richard
bestowed on the luckless roof, was a “sun-shiny
yellow;” so called, both from its resemblance to,
and its powers to resist, the rays of the great luminary.
The platform, as well as the eves of the
house, were surmounted by gaudily painted railings,
and the genius of Hiram was exerted in the
fabrication of divers urns and mouldings, that
were scattered profusely around this part of their
labours. Richard had originally a cunning expedient,
by which the chimneys were intended to be
so low, and so situated, as to resemble ornaments
on the balustrades; but comfort required that the
chimneys should rise with the roof, in order that
the smoke might be carried off, and they thus became
four extremely conspicuous objects in the
view.

As this was much the most important undertaking
in which Mr. Jones was ever engaged, his failure
produced a correspondent degree of mortification.
At first, he whispered among his acquaintances,
that it all proceeded from ignorance of the
square rule on the part of Hiram, but as his eye
became gradually accustomed to the object, he
grew better satisfied with his labours, and instead
of apologizing for the defects, he commenced
praising the beauties of the mansion house. He
soon found hearers; and, as wealth and comfort
are at all times attractive, it was made a model for
imitation on a small scale. In less than two years
from its erection, he had the pleasure of standing
on the elevated platform, and of looking down on
three humble imitators of its beauty,—Thus it is

ever with fashion, which even renders the faults of
the great, subjects of admiration.

Marmaduke bore this deformity in his dwelling
with great good nature, and soon contrived, by his
own improvements, to give an air both of respectability
and comfort to his place of residence;
still there was much of incongruity, even immediately
about the mansion house. Although poplars
had been brought from Europe to ornament
the grounds, and willows and other trees were gradually
springing up nigh the dwelling, yet many a
pile of snow betrayed the presence of the stump
of a mighty pine; and even, in one or two instances,
unsightly remnants of trees that had been
partly destroyed by fire, were seen rearing their
black and glistening columns, for twenty or thirty
feet above the pure white of the snow. These,
which in the language of the country are termed
stubbs, abounded in the open fields adjacent
to the village, and were accompanied, occasionally,
by the ruin of a pine or a hemlock that had
been stripped of its bark, and which waved in
melancholy grandeur its naked limbs to the blast,
a skeleton of its former glory. But these unpleasant
additions to the view were unnoticed by the
delighted Elizabeth, who, as the horses slowly
moved down the side of the mountain, saw only in
gross, the cluster of houses that lay like a map at
her feet; the fifty smokes, that were diagonally
curling from the valley to the clouds; the frozen
lake, as it lay embedded in mountains of evergreen,
with the long shadows of the pines on its
white surface, lengthening in the setting sun;
the dark riband of water, that gushed from the
outlet, and was winding its way already, towards
the far distant Chesapeake—the altered,
though still remembered, scenes of her childhood
and of joy!

Five years had here wrought greater changes,
than a century would produce in older countries,
where time and labour have given permanency to
the works of man. To the young hunter and the
Judge the scene had less of novelty; though none
ever emerge from the dark forests of that mountain,
and witness the glorious scenery of that beauteous
valley, as it burst unexpectedly upon them,
without a feeling of delight. The former cast one
admiring glance from north to south, and then
sunk his face again beneath the folds of his coat;
while the latter contemplated, with philanthropic
pleasure, the prospect of affluence and comfort,
that was expanding around him; the result of his
own enterprise, and much of it, the fruits of his
own industry.

The cheerful sound of sleigh bells, however,
soon attracted the attention of the whole party, as
they came jingling up the sides of the mountain, at
a rate that announced both a powerful team and
a hard driver. The bushes which lined the highway
interrupted the view, and they were close
upon this vehicle, before they discovered who were
its occupants.