University of Virginia Library

1. THE
TRAPPER'S BRIDE

1. CHAPTER I.

It was in the autumn of 18— that I
isited the city of New York for the first
ime. I had long been desirous of seeing
hat great city, the grand commercial
and mercantile emporium of the western
world: the London of America. This
city is one of the oldest in the United
States, and by far the largest in the Republic,
and decidedly the most important
in a business point of view. Its mercantile
interests are greater and vastly
more extended, than are those of any
other city in the Union. Early in the
history of this country it was founded by
a colony of Dutch, a people then widely
known for the spirit and energy with
which they carried on mercantile pursuits,
and more especially for their commercial
operations. This spirit they
brought with them to their new home:
and, as the town grew in importance, and
increased in wealth, they pushed their
branches of business, which were found
profitable to them, besides being more to
their liking than any other pursuits in
life: and in this way they gained an advance
over the other settlements in the
country, which they have ever since continued
to hold. New York possesses by
its location all the natural advantages for
commercial pursuit. Its wide harbor,
which affords a safe anchorage for the
largest ships, looks out upon the boundless
ocean, which is traversed at this time
by its thousands of stout, staunch vessels.
Its intercourse with foreign nations
across the ocean is extremely easy from
this circumstance, and its active citizens
saw this advantage from the first; it was
the strong inducement which led them to
settle on that narrow neck of land upon
which the city is built, and as I have
said, early turned their attention to the
subject of navigation, and to embark in
the pursuits of commerce. As the country
grew, and the population increased,
foreign trade also became more profitable,
and this city was the port that received
the returning ships laden with the
treasures and luxuries of foreign climes,
and in turn sent them back freighted
with the surplus productions of our own
land, to be exchanged in distant countries.
At the date of my story, the city
had become large and wealthy. It had
already secured the largest share of trade
in foreign staples and commodities from
other parts of our country, and merchants
from other cities on the sea-board as well
as inland cities and towns came here to
purchase their stocks. Merchants from
all parts of the country flowed to New
York, as offering the best chance to do
business profitably, and advantageously;
and foreigners, also, who came to this
country, were pretty sure to make this
port on their arrival, and quite as sure to
remain and engage in business in this
enterprising and prosperous city. From
successful business, many of the city
merchants grew very wealthy, and retiring

from active business, they built for
themselves elegant mansions in which
they resided in the bosom of their families,
enjoying all the comforts and pleasures,
both social and domestic, their
amassed wealth could purchase for
them; hence there grew up in this
city, and very naturally too, an aristocracy
of wealth, and with wealth an
aristocracy of fashion; indeed this city
soon became what in truth it has ever
since continued to be, the source and
fountain of the fashion. Here were to
be seen the latest styles of female costume;
here the fashionable bean got
the cue for the approved and last method
of the tie of his cravat, or the color and
size of his coat buttons, the length and
shape of his whiskers and moustaches.
In fact, in this respect, New York is to
America what Paris is to France; and
here you will ever find a crowd devoted
to the gay goddess whose temples are the
milliners, the mantua-makers, tailors and
barbers' shops.

On a clear, bright spring morning, in
the year 18—, in the month of April, a
young man dressed in his best suit of
homespun grey, might be seen traveling
on foot, his bundle containing his little,
but nevertheless his sole stock of worldly
gear and wealth. At the time we
speak of he had arrived to within a
couple of miles of New York, which was
his point of destination. He was about
eighteen years of age, to judge from his
appearance; a well built, hale, healthy
youth, possessing much manly beauty of
person, with a heart full of hope, swelling
with high resolves, and possessing
great courage, he had left his home in the
northern part of the State, and bidding
adieu to his family who lived contentedly
and pleasantly on a large and rich farm,
he had come to New York to seek his fortune.
Charles Stanley, for such was his
name, had full confidence in his ability
and power to win from dame fortune her
smiles by his seeking, and if she frowned
upon him at his first entrance into the
great and busy world, he was prepared
not to be cast down or driven from his
purpose. He had received an excellent
education at home, for the period and
part of the country where he had lived,
and was accounted a remarkable scholar
by the village pedagogue, that gave the
boys and gals their larning; and at home
under the careful teaching of a pious
father and mother he had learned lessons
of morality and religion which he cherished,
that if practiced would carry him
safely through all the vicissitudes of life,
and he had resolved to remember them
and make them a rule of conduct. Fortunately
for him, on the first day's entrance
into the city he was engaged by
one of the best firms in the city; two of
their clerks had suddenly left them, and
one of the partners by accident met
Charles as he was entering the house
where he took up his quarters in the
place. He was so much pleased with
the first impression Charles made upon
him, and so interested in the intelligence
and good sense of his conversation, that
he at once gave him the card of the firm,
“Leslie & Burke, importers of French
and English goods, No. 50 Wall street,”
and when he left him told him he should
expect to see him the next morning.

Charles was punctual to the appointment,
and was regularly installed in his
new vocation. That morning he attended
diligently to the duties that were
laid upon him, and devoted all his time
and talents to the acquisition of his new
calling. In a short time he had acquired
a tolerably good knowledge of business,
and was promoted by his employers, who
took much interest in him. The partners
in this house, were, both of them,
men of extensive information and learning.
As I have said, their business was
that of importers of foreign goods, and
often in the course of their business, they
were obliged to cross the ocean and visit
both France and England. These visits
were improved by them as a means of informing
themselves of the habits, customs
and history of those nations, and served
to stimulate and heighten the desire and
longing for learning and reading which
early education and a cultivated taste had
developed. It was in such a house, with
such men, that Charles received his business
education; and being a young man
of much promise, rigidly strict in his
habits, exceedingly attentive to business,
and feeling deeply interested in whatever

oncerned the welfare of his employers,
vatching over their interests as if they
vere his own, he gained at once not only
heir warm approbation, but also their
earty esteem; and as time wore on they
ecame more and more attached to him,
nd took increasing pains and care to aford
him every advantage in their reach
or self-education and improvement.—
Books were furnished him with the adice
and counsel of his employers, with
egard to his course and manner of readng;
then again he was welcomed as a
visitor in both their families, where he
vas treated more like a son than a guest,
and a son he was indeed destined to become
to Mr. Leslie, the eldest partner.
As soon as he became of age he was
eceived into the firm, he acquired their
inlimited confidence as a clerk, they gave
a willing admiration to his truly great business
talents, they loved him for his high
and noble character, his generous and
frank disposition, his unbending integrity
and honesty.

The same year that saw him a partner
in the firm, witnessed his marriage with
Arabella, the eldest daughter of Mr. Leslie,
a charming and lovely girl about his
own age. Their mutual love for each
other had existed for a long period. On
their first acquaintance they were deeply
interested in each other, and Charles had
not been long a clerk for her father, and
had not made many visits to his house,
before this interest ripened into love, and
it was to this deep and fervent attachment
on the part of Charles to a gifted
and beautiful girl, a passion that was met
and warmly returned by her, that he
owed that strong and constant influence
that held him to a course of life marked
by uprightness and unblemished honor,
more than to any other cause. Man's
destiny, how often is it made or marred
forever by woman's moulding influence.
To be worthy of her love, to render himself
her peer and be able some day to
call her his own, and render her happy
and proud to be so called, was the ruling
desire that filled his heart. And this desire
gave birth to high resolves which
should govern his conduct, and these
were faithfully adhered to under the light
of her approving smile, the sympathy
of her loving heart. Great and constant
were the exertions he made for her whom
he loved with all the strength and fervor
of a manly heart, and who had given
herself to him in sweet trusting confidence;
and he was worthy of all her
fond affection, of all her confiding trust.
No young man in that great city was
more widely known, nor more highly
respected and beloved.

We here pass over an interval of several
years in the history of this family,
as nothing of special interest in connexion
with our story occurred to them;
suffice it to say that Mr. Stanley continued
for a long time in business, was
very successful, and at the time we now
resume our veracious and honest narrative
had retired from active business, although
there stood the old dingy sign of the old
firm over the same store door where it
stood in days of yore. He was living
in an elegant mansion in the upper part
of the city fronting upon Washington
park, his family had considerably increased,
and now consisted of four children,
his dear wife who was still living,
the light of her home, the sweet partner
of all his joys, and the equal sharer of
all his accumulated riches. They had
lived in uninterrupted harmony and love
with all that strong, ardent affection, ever
fresh in their hearts, that made their marriage
day the most blessed day of their
lives. Not an unkind word had ever
passed between them, not a moment of
distrust had ever disturbed their mutual
confidence in each other. As happy a pair
were they as ever existed since the days
of Adam and Eve. But it is of their
children, or one of them rather, that we
wish to speak. The oldest was a son,
an only son, now about eighteen years
of age. His sisters were all younger
than himself. The children were all
dutiful, affectionate, and intelligent, and
were a blessing to their fond parents.—
They had been educated with great care,
under the watchful eye of indulgent and
fond parents. The son had the christian
name of his father, Charles; he displayed
at an early age in life talents of no
common order, and had developed and
improved his mind by careful attention
to his reading, and close application to his

studies. To him was assigned the first
rank in his class; to him belonged the
first prize awarded to the best scholar
at the close of his course of studies in
the seminary. In person as in mind, he
was equally distinguished, rather above
the medium height, with a well proportioned
form, full and well developed by
the manly exercises he accustomed himself
to; his head sat proudly on his
shoulders, supported by what, perhaps,
some would deem a too slender neck;
was rather large; the front part large,
with bold, open forehead, denoting a
large and active intellect; was covered
with a profusion of cutling hair of a dark
chestnut shade; his eye was black as jet,
full, round, sharp and expressive; his
complexion fair—almost too fair for a
man—and had it not been for the stern,
resolute expression of his mouth, you
would perhaps have thought the expression
of his face effeminate. It is strange
how totally the entire expression of a
face may be altered by a single feature.
To see Charles Stanley in the hours of
amusement, laughing and chatting gaily
with his young friends, and giving himself
up to pleasure, you would have supposed
him of a light and superficial
character, and one not at all fitted for
the stern realities and trying seasons
that few escape in the course of their
life time, when firmness and decision are
the only qualities that can save them.—
But you would assuredly have been mistaken
in him, for his was not a disposition
that delighted in the soft enervating
pleasures of society. Usually he was
thoughtful, sober, and I might almost add
sad in his appearance. When deeply
engaged in reflection, and absorbed in
thought, his whole expression changed,
and if you observed him at such times,
and saw his eyes kindling with the interest
he felt, and beaming with the light of
an awakened and active mind, his small
resolute mouth with compressed lips,
then you would have said that his was a
soul strong of purpose, that he possessed
a decision of character not easily to be
withstood—not often to be thwarted.—
At such seasons his beauty was highly
intellectual and manly; but never did his
remarkable beauty appear so striking as
when engaged in the courtesies of life,
with words of love on his lips, and kindness
displaying her attractive charms in
all his movements in his bearing, he
smiled—such a smile as would break
over his features how shall I describe it,
I never saw such an one before or since—
its effect was electrical and irresistible,
and would like light steal the gloom from
the brow of the most moody, the most
forlorn. It was bright, flashing bright,
yet winning. Like a sunbeam it played
over his face, illuminating it and clothing
it with a fascination that was truly irresistible.

Such in person was Charles Stanley,
the hero of my book. His sisters, as I
have already said, were younger than
himself; and in a city where the beauty
of its females is unsurpassed by any
city on the globe, were considered beautiful
girls. But it is of Charles I wish
to speak, and although the fair deserve
better treatment than to be thus suddenly
disposed of, necessity must rule. He
had been destined by his father for a
mercantile life, and had been engaged in
business for two or three years, but it
was a hard and trying thing for him to
tie himself down to a city life, although
he was in a good business, with an
abundance of funds to carry it on, and
although in society he was equally as
successful, for he had been welcomed
with open arms by the fashionable world.
His beauty, his wit and learning, had delighted
and amused a class where the
two latter commodities at least were not
often discovered, and many a fair daughter
of fashion had fluttered around him
clothed in witching smiles and radiant
beauty, like a gaily painted butterfly,
longing to capture his hand and heart too
if necessary to secure him. Many were
the costly dinner parties, the well planned
and delightful pic nic parties, the charming
sailing excursions that were provided
by fond and anxious mothers for his especial
benefit, that he might both see,
admire, and fall in love with their dear
sweet girls. But if the truth must be
told, for some reason or other, Charles
had never discovered what all these amusing
pleasures were designed especially
for, or if he had, had not entered into the

spirit of the thing, and did what was
expected of him. His heart was yet
free. Cupid had never leveled his arrow
at him, or if he had, had made a bad
shot of it; for never as yet had the fountains
of his heart been made to flow in
streams of love such as follow when the
mischievous little god strikes his dart in
the fatal spot.

His tastes, his habits, his inclinations,
were all separate and distinct from most
of those around him, who composed what
is termed the fashionable circle, the bon
ton of the city. They had been formed
in a different school. He had paid but
little attention to the showy but superficial
accomplishments that make up the
sum of a fashionable beau's education
and stock of learning. During most of
his school days he had been in his father's
house, and beneath the watchful
guidance of his kind parents; but the
two last years he had spent at a seminary
in the upper part of the State,
kept by an old friend of his father's.
While there he was accustomed to spend
his holidays in hunting in the adjacent
woods, and fishing in the streams of the
neighborhood. These sports, which belong
to manhood and mature age, were
his favorites when a boy. They separated
him from the crowd and led him
away by himself to the wild free forests;
they relieved him from the fetters and restraints
which other amusements very
often are connected with, and left him at
liberty to indulge his wildest, boldest fancies,
or muse undisturbed upon the bright
and glowing schemes that are wont to
occupy the mind of youth ere the blights
of disappointed hopes and crushed expectations
have taught him the realities
of life.

It was at this period of his life that he
formed a desire for a forester's roving
life. He delighted to read and ponder
over the wild tales of the pioneers of the
West, and the extravagant tales of border
life were eagerly listened to, and carefully
remembered by him. Cooper's
tales of the Indians were his favorite
volumes; and often while alone in the
woods would he revolve in his mind the
character of the old scout in Cooper's
writings, and plan for himself a career
which should rival that in romance and
chivalry. As he grew up, however, and
again returned to his home in the city,
away from the enticing scenes that had
rendered his holidays so delightful, and
again mingled in fashionable society,
where he was so warmly welcomed,
and so flatteringly praised, he lost for
a time his wish to rove; but soon after
entering into business which closely confined
him to his store, and claimed his
sole attention and consumed all his time,
he grew tired of the restraints imposed
upon him, and in turn he became sick
of, and disgusted with, the frivolities and
hollow-heartedness that every where met
him in fashionable society. He saw
through the cloak of politeness and pretended
friendship that covered the most
utter selfishness, and contemptible meanness,
of the boasted leaders and chiefs in
this circle. He gained an insight into
the intrigues and artful designs of manœuvering
mammas and plotting papas,
and made up his mind, perhaps wrongfully—then
again perhaps he was not so
far from the truth—that here all was superficially
counterfeit, and a little base
withal. This was a suitable frame of
mind to revive the pleasures and plans
of the past, that had so charmed him.
His early schemes and fancies returned
with more than their former strength and
influence, until he resolved to put them
into execution; to quit his home, although
it was dear to him; but he desired to
turn his back upon what he believed to
be falsely called a happy lot, a cultivated
and refined state of society, and delve
into the forests far beyond the bounds of
civilization.

He determined to try the fortunes of a
pioneer, and join the hunters that range
the vast forests of the far West, after the
manner of the natives of the land—free
as the air of heaven, or as the streams
that plow the mountain's side and dance
along the smiling vales. And now that
he had fully made up his mind to this
course, he began to look about for the
means of pursuing it. The first and
greatest difficulty that presented itself to
his mind, was to gain the consent of his
parents; he knew they would be opposed
to it—strongly opposed. But although

he was of age and could act alone
for himself, and by himself; and the doing
of which, many girls and boys think
a mark of manhood and independence,
and forget or neglect the duties and obligations
which they owe to their kind and
loving parents who have watched over
them with unceasing kindness and unremitting
care in their days of helplessness
and infancy—still he hesitated not a
moment as to whether he should ask
counsel and advice from his parents.—
He made their consent an indispensable
point; desire however strongly he might
to go, he would not, on any account,
without their obtained assent at least.

The conclusion he came to was a noble
one, worthy of the instructions and education
he had received. It was to state
to his parents fully and freely, and seek
their approval. As soon as he had fixed
upon this course, he took the first opportunity
a leisure evening offered to meet
his father in his library alone, when he
might without interruption acquaint him
with his resolutions, lay his plans before
him, and gain his consent to them. This
occasion soon presented itself, and Charles
pleaded his wishes and gave his reasons
for his course to his father, and requested
his consent to follow them.

Mr. Stanley, as might have been expected,
seemed very much surprised at
what his son said, but this did not prevent
him from listening attentively, or
cause him to interrupt him in what he
had to say to him. He waited until he
had finished, and paused for an answer.
He did not reply to him immediately,
but for a few moments remained silent,
during which time he regarded his son
closely, as if to be sure that he rightly
understood him, and that he was really
in earnest in what he said; then in a
friendly, kind tone, said he:—

“Do you know, my dear son, what a
laborious, what an uncertain life you are
choosing for yourself?”

Charles replied that he had thought
the matter over thoroughly, and he was
prepared to experience difficulties and
labor he had never yet encountered.—
But said his father, “Have you thought
of the sacrifices you will be compelled
to make—all the luxuries of life to which
you have been accustomed, and many
of its comforts, even, you will be deprived
of.”

Charles answered him by saying he
was ready to do so, and even anxious to
undergo them.

But said his father, “I fear should you
take this course, you will be sadly disappointed,
for I can tell you it is very different
from what you have been used
to. It is one thing to picture such a
life in your own fancy, full of stirring,
pleasant incidents and adventures—and
quite another, actually to suffer all the
trials and discomforts that are sure to
attend it. I know full well that young
men at your time of life are apt to indulge
in fanciful theories, and extravagant
schemes of the future; such is the
natural tendency of the youthful mind,
ere it has learned from actual experience
the realities of life: but, my son, I think
you are mistaken in this matter, and I
think if you will consider it carefully
you will see it in a different light.—
Whatever you now undertake should
be viewed with reference to the future.
You should look beyond the present and
estimate the bearing and influence it will
hereafter exert upon you. In youth prepare
for old age. This is a maxim no
less true than just. Your happiness and
success in life, as you know, is dear,
very dear to me: and if there is anything
within my power to secure for
you a happy life, you know how ready,
how rejoiced I shall be, to do it for you:
but I must say, my dear son, that the
plan which you have now detailed to me
does not seem calculated to promote your
happiness or welfare, but on the contrary,
as I view it, it is wild and unsettling, and
calculated to injure you, and moreover I
do not think you are fitted to endure the
fatigues and privations that are necessarily
attendant upon it. Reflect upon it,
my child; consider if there be not some
other career in the varied and different
pursuits of life, that you would rather follow:
something that will permit you to
remain with us at home, for I am pained
at the idea of your leaving us, my dear
son, and I know that it will grieve your
mother and sisters very much to part with
you; but anything that will contribute to

your welfare we shall both be ready to
do. We will not now discuss this subject,
but I will speak with you again soon
upon it, after I have acquainted your
mother with your wishes.”

The father and son then conversed together
upon other topics in a familiar and
interesting manner. Mr. Stanley always
encouraged the confidence and freedom
of speech of his children, and listened to
them with attention and respect. He
treated them like men and women, and
this served to make them talk and act as
such.

After an hour pleasantly spent in conversation
with his father, Charles left the
library and betook himself to his own
room, to reflect upon his interview with
his father, and carefully consider the advice
he had received from him, and again
to review his own plans.