Book: Elinor Wyllys

S >> Susan Fenimore Cooper >> Elinor Wyllys




{"Othello's occupation were gone" = William Shakespeare,
"Othello", III.iii.358}

Justice to Mr. Taylor would require that we should follow him to
the counting-house, for it was there that he appeared in the most
brilliant light. His talents were undoubted; his sagacity, his
skill, and his daring were great; and his undertakings were
generally successful. Thus far all appeared very well; but those
who looked closer into the matter would have found that his
integrity was anything but unimpeachable, his love of money far
surpassing his love of truth and justice. This part of his career
must be left, however, to other hands; it is only what he was in
social and domestic life, that the merchant appears among our
Longbridge friends.

The first few months after he had removed to New York, the utmost
extent of Mr. Taylor's ambitious dreams had been the possession
of a brick house in Broadway, on a lot of ground twenty-three
feet by seventy. According to the favourite rule of New York
architecture, the rule of three, the building was to be three
stories high, and three windows wide. But the end of the first
ninety days in Wall-Street, brought an accession of several
thousands, and the brilliant promise of so many more, that this
plan was enlarged several inches each way. As every succeeding
season brought an increase of wealth and ambition, the projected
dwelling grew at last to be taller and broader by several feet,
until, at length, it had reached the limits which magnificence
usually attains on the island of Manhattan. Had Mr. Taylor built
his house in Philadelphia, or almost any other American town, he
might have laid rather a broader foundation for his habitation;
but New York houses, as a rule, are the narrowest and the tallest
in the land. Some of those three-story dwellings, however,
whatever may be their architectural defects, contain inmates who
are as much to be desired for friends as any others in the world.
But to return to Mr. Taylor's new house; we have said that it was
one of the proud few which could boast its four stories and its
four windows. He was perfectly satisfied with the result when
finished, for his house from the garret to the cellar was a
faithful copy of one opposite to him, which had been built some
months earlier, and was pronounced the house of the season.

The American people may have been perfectly original in their
constitution, but in most other respects they are particularly
imitative. An observer, at a first glance, wonders that so much
cleverness should be wasted in mere imitation; but it is, after
all, the simple result of the position of the country. An
intelligent people, we are furnished by books with more ideas
than we have models on which to shape them. In an old state of
society, there is always a class who labour after originality,
and are proud to be called eccentric; but a young nation, cut off
from the rest of the civilized world, must necessarily be
imitative in its character until it has arrived at maturity. This
spirit of imitation, to a certain extent an advantage, is, to be
sure, often carried to a laughable extent when it loses sight of
common sense. People seem to forget the fact that propriety must
always be the first step to true elegance. As a proof of it, we
see men who appear to have consulted their neighbours' tastes,
habits, and means, instead of their own, in building the house
they themselves are to inhabit; like Mr. Taylor, without any very
good reason, they imitate their opposite neighbour. Again, it is
surprising to see what time and toil are spent in following every
variation of fashion in dress, by many women who certainly can
ill afford it; we do not mean fashion in its general outlines,
but in its most trifling details. If one could watch the progress
of an idle fancy of this nature, from the moment it springs from
the caprice of some European elegante, with more time and money
than she knows how to throw away, until it becomes a necessity to
an American housemaid, earning a dollar a week--we have no doubt
the period would be found surprisingly short.

{"elegante" = a fashionable lady (French)}

The habit of imitation just alluded to, is more striking perhaps
in architecture than in anything else, for in that shape it is
always before our eyes; and no place in the country is more
marked with it than New York. In no town in he world are there as
many dwellings so much alike; and this fact is not the result of
necessity, or of any plan of architectural unity--it is not that
the plan first hit upon proved to be the most rational, or best
suited to the spot and its inhabitants--but it is chiefly the
consequence of a spirit of imitation.

To return to our story: this new house of Mr. Taylor, this
successful imitation of his opposite neighbour, had been opened
the first of May, the general moving day in New York. It was
fitted up in the richest manner, young Taylor having received
carte blanche from his father to purchase handsome furniture in
Paris. Rosewood and satin, gilt bronzes and Sevres vases, were
all of the best kind--and Mr. Taylor was perfectly satisfied with
the effect of his two drawing-rooms. It was determined they
should be shown off during the following winter, by a succession
of dinners and parties. He had already tried his hand at
entertaining; after having eaten a dozen great dinners with
different commercial notabilities, he had given one himself just
before leaving town. The affair, a man-dinner, of course, had
gone off brilliantly--thanks to his beautiful porcelaine de
Sevres, his candelabras and his epergnes, his English plate and
English glass; all of which showed off to great advantage the
best of the good things abounding in the New York market, cooked
by a Frenchman, and washed down by wines from the most famous
vineyards of France, Germany, and Spain. His entertainment was
pronounced as handsome as any given that winter in town; and Mr.
Taylor determined that it should be only the first of a long
series.

{"general moving day" = in New York City, at this time, leases
for the rental of houses generally expired on May 1; "porcelaine
de Sevres" = expensive chinaware from the French town of Sevres;
"epergne" = an elaborate bowl used as a table centerpiece
(French)}

His country-house rivalled his establishment in town. By his
first plan, he had intended that it should equal that of Mr.
Hubbard, at Longbridge; but eighteen months had made a material
change in his affairs, which produced corresponding alterations
in the building. First one large wing was added, then another;
Mr. Hubbard's house had but one Corinthian portico, Mr. Taylor's
had two. He was born in a house which had been painted only on
one front, and he was now of the opinion of the old tar, who
purchased a handsome jacket like his commanding officer, but
ordered the back as well as the front to be made of satin, and
meeting the admiral, pulled up his coat-tails to show that there
was "no sham." Mr. Taylor could not outdo the plate-glass, and
mahogany doors of Mr. Hubbard's house, but he had great
satisfaction in showing him his portico on the south front, and
in proving there was no sham. When the wings were added, they
were completely surrounded on three sides by a colonnade. Mr.
Taylor having happened, just at the moment, to make thirty
thousand dollars by one successful speculation, he sent orders to
the master-builder for a double set of columns; and as a
consequence, the colonnade was so very conspicuous that it became
the pride of the neighbourhood. Mr. Taylor, himself, was so much
struck with the first view, when completed, that he decided to
name the place "Colonnade Manor." There is no accounting for
taste in names, we suppose, any more than in other matters. Like
No. five hundred and ----- Broadway, Colonnade Manor was
furnished with rosewood and satin from Paris.

Mrs. Taylor, good soul, entered very little into the spirit of
this magnificence. She still sat in her nursery with her younger
children as much as possible, darning all the stockings of the
family; an occupation which Adeline thought very ungenteel, for
she never condescended to use her needle at all. To make Mrs.
Taylor a fine lady had been one of the least successful of Mr.
Taylor's efforts; she was much too honest by nature to assume a
character for which she was so little qualified. There was but
one way in which she could succeed in interesting herself in all
the parade which gratified Mr. Taylor's taste; she found it gave
pleasure to her husband and children, and she endeavoured to make
the best of it. She wore the fine dresses purchased for her by
Adeline, and drove out once in a while in her handsome carriage,
to pay at least a few of the many visits urged by Mr. Taylor.
Among the new acquaintances she had made in the last ten years,
there were few Mrs. Taylor liked as well as Miss Wyllys; and Miss
Agnes, in her turn, respected all that was honest and
straight-forward in the character of her new neighbour; indeed,
the whole family at Wyllys-Roof very much preferred her to the
more pretending husband and daughter. The note, of which Adeline
was the bearer, was an application to Miss Wyllys for advice in
some domestic difficulty. It ran as follows:

"MY DEAR MISS WYLLYS:--

"You have been so kind to me, ever since we moved into your
neighbourhood, that I hope you will excuse me for asking your
assistance, this morning. I have been a good deal plagued in my
kitchen ever since we came into the country this spring. My cook
and chamber-maid, who are sisters, are always finding some excuse
for wanting to go to the city; and last night they got a letter,
or pretended to get one from New York, saying that their father
was very sick; and as I didn't know but it might be true, I
couldn't refuse them, and they have gone for a week--though I
won't be sure it was not for a mere frolic. As it happened, Mr.
Taylor and Adeline came back from Saratoga, last night, and
brought a house-full of company with them; an old friend of mine
whom I had not seen for years, and some new acquaintances of
Adeline's. To make matters worse, my nurse, a faithful, good
girl, who has lived with me for years, was taken sick this
morning; and John, the waiter, had a quarrel with the coachman,
and went off in a huff. You know such things always come
together. So I have now only the coachman and his daughter, a
little girl of twelve, in the house; happily they are both
willing, and can do a little of everything. If you know of
anybody that I can find to take the place of cook, or housemaid,
I shall be truly obliged to you for giving the coachman their
names and directions.

"Adeline is to have a little party this evening; she met several
of our Longbridge friends on board the boat yesterday, and took
that opportunity of asking them, as she is very anxious to make
the house pleasant to her company. I dare say she has already
invited all your family, and I shall be very sorry if you are not
able to come, for we always miss you more than any others of our
neighbours.

"Hoping you will excuse the trouble I give you, I remain, dear
Madam,

"Very respectfully and truly yours,

"HESTER TAYLOR."

Miss Wyllys had no sooner read the note, than, full of sympathy
for Mrs. Taylor's difficulties, she held a consultation with her
female factotum, Elinor's nurse, or Mammy as she was called. All
the men, women, and children in the neighbourhood, who might
possibly possess some qualifications for the duties of cook,
chamber-maid, or footman, were run over in Miss Agnes' mind; and
she succeeded at last, by including one superannuated old woman,
and another child of ten, in making out a list of some dozen
names for her neighbour's benefit. The whole morning was spent by
the coachman, scouring the country with the Taylor barouche and
horses--for no time was to be spent in changing harness--in
pursuit of Dianthy This, and Araminty That. Mrs. Taylor, of
course, awaited his return with trembling anxiety; the Saratoga
party had gone off to fish, escorted by Mr. Taylor and a younger
daughter; Adeline having taken that opportunity to go to see
Jane, excusing herself from accompanying the fishing set, on
account of the arrival of this very intimate friend of hers. The
mistress of the house, after having administered a dose of
medicine to the sick nurse, and sent the little girl of twelve to
make the beds and sweep, gave one melancholy look at things in
the kitchen, and then remembered that she could no longer leave
this particular old friend of her's alone in the drawing-room.
While talking over past times, Mrs. Taylor chose a rocking-chair
commanding a view of the approach to the house: just at the
moment when she began to fear the horses had run away, killed the
coachman, and broken the carriage, she saw the barouche driving
up the avenue, but, alas, sans cook! She kept her seat
womanfully, and heard out the end of a long story which the old
friend was relating about a family of relations. But at length
Mrs. Taylor found that the moment for action had come; and giving
her friend the choice of her own knitting-work, or a walk in the
garden with her youngest child, a pretty prattling little boy,
she excused herself for a few moments, under pretext of looking
after the sick nurse. The old friend was quite a talkative
person, and one to whom a listener was very necessary; she
preferred the little boy to the knitting-work, and set out to
look at-the garden.

Mrs. Taylor instantly disappeared in the direction of the
kitchen.

"Well, John!"

"Well, marm, I couldn't pick up nobody, for love or money."

"Didn't Miss Wyllys know of any one in the neighbourhood?"

"Yes, marm; I have got a list here; but some of 'em had got
places already; there was two that was sick; one, Araminty
Carpenter, I guess, would have suited Mrs. Taylor very well, for,
I know the young woman's father; but she has gone over to
Longbridge, to work at the Union Hotel, for a week. There was one
name written so I couldn't make it out; and two of 'em I couldn't
find; folks couldn't tell me where they lived. There is a young
thing down at the Mill, who looks handy, but doesn't know
anything of cooking; but, I engaged her to come to-morrow, and
Mrs. Taylor can see if she suits."

"Why didn't you bring her with you at once, John?"

"She couldn't come, no ways, till to-morrow; she was washing;
and, if she left the work, there was no one to do it."

Let it not be supposed that Mrs. Taylor sunk under these
difficulties. The fishing-party returned; and, by means known
only to herself, the coachman, and the little girl of twelve, a
dinner, much as usual, was provided for her guests, who were left
in happy ignorance of the desertion in the kitchen.

It must be surprising, to those unaccustomed to such things, to
observe with what courage and cheerfulness the mistress of an
American family encounters the peculiar evils of her lot--evils
undreamt of by persons in the same station in any other part of
the world. Her energies seem to rise with the obstacles that call
them out; she is full of expedients--full of activity; and,
unless fairly worn out by exertion for which she has not the
physical strength, always manages to keep up appearances, and
provide for the comfort of her household, until her troubles are
surmounted, for the time being, and she gathers strength, in a
moment of respite, for fresh difficulties, when they present
themselves. Even her husband and sons are seldom aware of her
toils and vexations. Many people are ignorant of the number of
virtues that are included, at such moments, in that of
hospitality; could a plain, unvarnished account, be made out, of
the difficulties surmounted, at some time or other, by most
American matrons, the world would wonder at their fortitude and
perseverance. Not that difficulties like those of our friend,
Mrs. Taylor, are of constant duration, but they occur oftener
than the uninitiated are aware of. Yet even obstacles like these
seem never to interfere with that constant intercourse, from
tea-parties to visits of weeks, which are exchanged between all
American families and their friends. But then no people in the
world are more truly hospitable--none are more social in their
feelings, than the inhabitants of these United States.



CHAPTER XII.

"Come, come; deal justly with me; come,
Come; nay, speak!"
Hamlet.

"Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my
young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and
everything in extremity."
Romeo and Juliet.

{William Shakespeare, "Hamlet", II.ii.275-276; "Romeo and
Juliet", I.iii.100-102}

OF course, nothing interfered with the party at Colonnade Manor.
Thanks to Mrs. Taylor, the coachman and the little girl of
twelve--quite a womanly, precocious, little thing,
by-the-way--all went off very well. Some curious person,
uninitiated in similar domestic mysteries, may wish to know how
things were managed at such a trying crisis. Well, in the first
place, Mrs. Taylor congratulated herself that her guests had been
asked to 'spend the evening,' and not invited 'to tea.' This was
a piece of good luck, which diminished her cares, and prevented
the deep mortification she must have felt had the tea and coffee
been cold. The coachman, of course, officiated as footman; a duty
to which he was already somewhat accustomed. The little girl of
twelve began the evening as ladies'-maid, appearing in the
dressing-room in that capacity, helping the ladies to take off
their shawls and smooth the folds of their dresses, before they
made their entrance in the drawing-rooms. The company soon
collected--about fifty or sixty persons, altogether--and in party
dress; each having been invited quite sociably, by Miss Adeline.
They were not at all surprised to see each other, however, for
they had often already practised the same agreeable deception,
themselves. The company once assembled, the little girl of twelve
rolled up her sleeves, and took her station in the pantry, where
she replenished the cake-baskets, the lemonade and
sangaree-glasses handed about by her father, the coachman. A
supper table was already spread in the dining-room; it had been
very prettily ornamented with flowers by Adeline, and her
Saratoga friends; and a plentiful supply of fruits, ices,
jellies, syllabubs, creams, and other delicacies for a light
supper, had been prepared, in the course of the morning, by Mrs.
Taylor and her coadjutors, the coachman and the little girl of
twelve. The talkative old friend had been admitted behind the
scenes so far, as to learn that the mistress of the house would
be obliged to make all the good things herself; and she had shown
that, besides telling a long story, she could make very excellent
sponge-cake; for, unfortunately, it was discovered that it would
be necessary to increase the supply of that delicacy. Adeline did
her share; while her Saratoga friends were taking a morning
siesta, with a novel in their hands, she had made the syllabub,
and prepared the fruit. These arrangements having been made, the
little girl of twelve had received orders to station herself near
at hand, where she could be sent of {sic} errands up and down
stairs. The coachman was told to take his place by the
side-table, ready to be called upon, if necessary. Mrs. Taylor
herself--alas! that we should be obliged to reveal the fact,
expected to slip out of the drawing-room at about half-past ten,
and superintend the delicate operation of removing the jellies
from their moulds; this would require ten minutes to do, and she
hoped to make her exit and ingress unnoticed; a matter easily
managed, in summer, when the doors and windows are all open, and
couples arm-in-arm, are loitering about, in and out in all
directions. This task performed, when she had returned to the
public notice, some ten minutes after having seen everything in
its place, the coachman was expected to appear at the
drawing-room door, with composed manner, to announce that supper
was ready--a fact she was prepared to hear with the expression of
sublime indifference, required by etiquette. From that moment,
everything would become easy; for, of course, the gentlemen
would, as usual, take care of the ladies first, and then help
themselves. The gallant way in which these light, standing
suppers are always managed, among us, is, by-the-bye, a pleasant
and sensible arrangement; nothing better could be devised, under
the circumstances. The plan of operations thus sketched, we may
as well say, at once, that everything succeeded to admiration.

{"sangaree" = a cold drink of flavored, diluted wine; "syllabub"
= a drink of milk and wine}

The evening was pronounced very pleasant; and, as several of our
friends were present, we shall follow them. There was a great
deal of talking and laughing; a reasonable quantity of
flirtation; and, once or twice, some romping in the corner of the
room where Miss Adeline happened to be at the time. Among those
who had excused themselves from accepting the invitation, were
Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hazlehurst, who disliked the idea of going so
far, and Mr. and Mrs. Graham, the lady being detained at home by
a headach {sic}, the gentleman by a particular dislike to Mr.
Taylor, who, he thought, had behaved in an ungentlemanly manner
about a mortgage, in which they both happened to be interested.
Mr. Graham was a man of a violent temper, and unsocial habits,
generally taking little pains to conceal his feelings; and
accordingly, his manner to Mr. Taylor was anything but
flattering, though their acquaintance, at best, was but trifling.
Mrs. Graham also disliked the whole family; and yet the intimacy
between Jane and Adeline was allowed to continue, as a sort of
matter of course, between school companions.

Miss Wyllys accompanied her niece to the party--she generally
made it a point to go with Elinor; for, she had old-fashioned
notions on the subject, and thought that the presence of their
elders was an advantage and a protection that well-educated young
girls have a right to expect from their friends. She seldom spoke
on the matter, however, but contented herself with giving, what
she thought, a good example. Both Miss Agnes and Elinor were
rather surprised to find that Jane's partiality for her giddy
friend Adeline, had not been in the least diminished, by her
visit to Europe. Miss Wyllys disapproved of the intimacy; but, as
Jane's mother had no objections, she herself could say nothing.
The two young ladies were a great deal together, in the course of
the evening, as became bosom-friends after a long separation.
Mrs. Taylor's old friend, the talkative lady, was introduced to
several of the elder portion of the company, and was thus happily
provided with listeners. Miss Adeline's fashionable acquaintances
from Saratoga, were also supplied, each with a couple of
attendant beaux, upon whom to try the effect of their charms.
Everything thus happily arranged, Miss Adeline proposed a 'march'
which was managed as usual. Young Van Horne, who had some musical
capabilities, was placed at the piano, and played Washington's
March, when the young people paired off in a line, and began to
walk, moving in time up and down the two drawing-rooms, through
the folding-doors--each gentleman, of course, offering his arm to
a lady; chaque chacun, avec sa chacune. Adeline was not quite
satisfied with her cavalier, Charlie Hubbard; she did not care
much about him, at any time; and, on the present occasion, he
seemed less interested in listening to her own conversation, than
in watching the movements of some one else; who it was, she could
not say. She reproached him with this inattention.

{"chaque chacun, avec sa chacune" = each one with his own
(French)}

"I declare, I don't believe you hear half I say. I never saw
anybody like you."

"Charlie blushed a little, rallied, and devoted himself more
exclusively to the duty of being entertained. After the second or
third turn in the march, Adeline discovered Hazlehurst, who,
instead of being in motion with the rest, was leaning in a
door-way. As she passed him, she snapped her embroidered
handkerchief in that direction, and summoned him to join the
'promenade.' Harry excused himself by saying, he was afraid he
could not find any one to walk with him.

"How can you talk so! There is Miss Wyllys, I declare; I had not
seen her before."--And Adeline crossed the room to a window where
Elinor was sitting quietly as a looker-on, having just escaped
from a long conversation with the talkative old friend.

"Now, Miss Wyllys, I am sure you must wish to promenade!"

"Would you like to walk?" quietly asked Hazlehurst, who had
followed Miss Taylor.

"No, indeed," said Elinor, smiling and shaking her head
good-naturedly. "I have had one long walk, already, this
afternoon, and much prefer sitting still, just now."

"You should follow Jane's example; you see, she is promenading,
and, I dare say, she took the walk with you, too," said Adeline.

"Did you ever know Jane take a long walk, when she could help
it?" asked Elinor, smiling. "I had really rather sit still, Miss
Taylor."

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