University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

Mrs. Howell found herself quite elegantly situated in her new home in the charming inland city of Macon. The city itself, with its broad streets and many spacious and beautiful residences, all untouched by the ravages of the war, presented a contrast to the siege-worn Charleston; while its grand embankment of surrounding hills covered with grass and timber stood out in sharper contract to the low and marshy surroundings of the latter city. Hortense was delightfully impressed with her new home, and with the cordial manners of the people. Decidely less sentimental, and perhaps less cultured than the folks of Charleston,

they were nevertheless none the less agreeable. There was a heartiness, a robustness in their manners, appearing at times a little abrupt, but all was tempered with a genuine friendliness of feeling and a reigning desire to make the stranger at home.

The social position into which Mrs. Howell was welcomed was all that she could desire. Not only was she accorded her proper place and sphere, but she won to herself friends whose hearts joined with hers in loving sympathy, and with whom she was solicited to co-operate in the many womanly undertakings of the community. Mr. Howell was delighted with the success of his wife from a social standpoint, and so far peace reigned over their lives, and love dwelt in their elegant abode. The threatening clouds seemed to have passed away, and the clear sunlight of happiness within, and prosperity without, shone upon

them. Occasional visits were interchanged between them and the family at Charleston, and the mistrust seemed gradually wearing away; yet all this time Hortense could not freely give herself up to be happy. She always feared that the happiness of their home was somewhat insecure, and there was always a corner of unrest in her heart, no matter how bright the day.

The years rolled on and a daughter and a son were added to the household, and with their advent came the increasing burden of concern to the mother. These little ones opened the way for the first approach of the portentous cloud that had so long forced its somber shade across the soft spirit of the gentle Hortense. It was with respect to them that the father's indifference to religion began to manifest itself in a threatening way. He not only spoke

lightly of having them baptized in the Christian faith, but finally refused to take part in the ceremony. He did not positively object to the mother's having them christened in the church of which she was a member, but he objected quite positively to being a party to the transaction. He who had stood by the side of his wife before the Christian minister when their lives were to be finally united, ungallantly declined to do more than accompany his wife on the occasion of presenting their children to God by baptism. Here was the Christian wife and mother's first great cross. How should she act? Should she hold back from what she regarded as a Christian duty, or should she present herself apart from her husband, and thus take the first step which looked like putting asunder what God had joined together? The matter was finally compromised by Mr. Howell's consenting to accompany her to the church and stand with her in the ceremony, but to take no part by word or act which could be construed into an acquiescence in his wife's belief.

Mr. Howell had become a convert to the water-cure; had progressed quite rapidly toward the doctrine of free love, and was beginning to adopt a kind of substitute for religion. He still maintained the confidence of his wife, who firmly believed him pure and honest, and who was disposed to yield to his views to some extent. He began to talk more of love as the controlling principle of life, and to draw sharp distinctions between the freedom of love and the bondage of society. "If," said he, "mankind could lift their eyes and look upon love and its relations to life as the child of God, instead of seeing only lust, which, with the majority, now crowds love aside,

then would they be able to consider this matter in its true light. Love needs no bonds, It will take care of itself."

These views, so lofty, for a time, completely captivated Hortense, who saw only the outside, and she too began to imbibe somewhat liberal [?] sentiments, crediting her improved views to the teaching of Leonard, whom she said she knew "to be one of the purest men living." She did not see the inside movement of the enemy as he was gradually undermining the foundations of their home and opening the way to irretrievable disaster. Before the flood tide of evil came upon this young and happy household, however, another sad event swept over the Vanross family and left its weight of woe upon the weakening faith and hope of Hortense. It will make this part of my story entirely too sad to do little more than mention it.

Mrs. Vanross, the mother of this interesting family, and the center of unity of the pious household, the priestess and exemplar at the altar of their devotion, sickened and died. Sons and daughters, sons-in-law and daughters-in-law, with grandsons and granddaughters, and scores of relatives and friends, felt the loss caused by her departure. The lovely wife and ideal mother, beautiful even in old age, when gray hairs and wrinkles and feebleness had marked her for the tomb; beautiful, ay, sacredly beautiful when dying, while the light of the world to come seemed to bathe her countenance with a balm of glory. Indeed it might almost be said of her that she did not die at all, but having finished her work, she fell asleep, lulled to her final rest by angelic songs and enveloped with the curtains of eternal peace.

Tears ! Tears ! measureless tears !

Grief ! Grief ! inconsolable grief ! Such was the outburst that followed this incomparable loss. Stalwart sons and matronly daughters follow her ascending spirit as did the eyes of Elisha the ascending form of his master Elijah; and they all involuntarily express the sense of their loss in a sentence of childhood that formed itself in their hearts and threw itself out in tones of deepest grief:

"Mother is gone !"

Yes, it was too true! The charmed, central figure that had so long held all the separate parts of that happy circle in place was gone. The sadness that followed was not unmixed with comfort and even joy. Glorious had been the life, and triumphant the death of the woman unknown to fame or story, but of whom the world below was no longer worthy. The family circle that had been kept in form because

of her influence, could not subsist materially upon her memory. It was broken never to be reunited. Other circles were forming from other centers, to take the place of the superior circle which had transferred its center from the material to the spiritual world. A sweet and happy home had faded; for what of home is left when mother is gone ! Well, a mother's work was done, and a home had departed, but all was not gone. The old building was there with its precious memories, and the inspirations of a holy life remain. When the queenly spirit that once presided in that modest residence passed away, there was no more earthly home for living sons and daughters. Their home ascended on high with their model mother. But then, these sons and daughters had become also home-makers, and the one Christian home had multiplied itself into five. The character and heart of this good woman have since exerted their influence in five houses, upon five groups of interesting children, some of whom have already grown up, we trust, to give these chaste and holy principles, and that rich and refining Christian influence, a still wider place in the generations to come.