Stephen H. Branch's Alligator, Vol. 1 no. 07, June 5, 1858

Stephen H. Branch's Alligator, Vol. 1 no. 07, June 5, 1858

While pursuing my studies at Andover, I am corresponding with a girl who resides in my native city. There were girls in Providence far more beautiful than her, (and whose parents were more affluent than hers,) from whom I could doubtless have selected a companion for life, but her father had been a boy with my father, and she loved me as a sister her brother, or as a fond mother loves her precious offspring. These truths had their influence with me. Moreover, this girl had pursued me for years, and (to illustrate her devotion) if I went to a ball, she was there. If I took my position in a cotilion, she would soon be opposite, and staring me broadly in the face, and, as we crossed over, she would cast the most tender glances, and press my hand with deep affection. If I proposed to dance with her, her eyes would kindle with the wildest enthusiasm. If I went to church, she would be in the next pew, and enter mine, if it were not full. If I turned a corner, I often would meet her. If I looked behind, while promenading Westminster, (the Broadway of Providence,) she would often be prancing towards me like an Arabian courser. She would address letters to herself through the Post Office, and call for them when I was at the letter delivery. If I went to a party, she would contrive to get an invitation, and a day seldom passed, when I did not see her. Juliet never loved Romeo more fervently than she loved me. And because I knew she loved me as no virgin ever loved, I resolved to have her. All her kindred favored our union, and before I went to Andover, her father came, on summer evenings, to the Post Office, and conversed with me in the most friendly tones. So, in the Autumn of 1836, I bade adieu to Andover, forever, and repaired to Providence, and married her at her fathers. The wedding was large and magnificent. My father obtained me a clerkship in the Rhode Island Cloth Hall, but manufactures were long depressed, and its directors resolved to close its affairs, which deprived me of a situation. The commercial desolation of 1837 was in embryo, and merchants were curtailing, and extensive failures transpired, and clerks and mechanics were discharged throughout the country, and my father could obtain no lucrative employment for me, and dared not establish me in business in such a frightful panic. Myself and wife resided at her fathers. I[3] made several journeys to Boston and New York for a clerkship, but I could obtain none. The Spring of 1837 arrived. I was proud and ambitious. Heartless comments were made, all over Providence, about my idleness, and my prolonged residence with the parents of my wife. I got uneasy, and was mortified beyond expression and endurance. I made a final passage to New York, and resolved, if I obtained no employment, to have a crisis. I could procure no situation, and went to Philadelphia, where I was also unsuccessful. I saw an advertisement for a clerk in Westchester, Pennsylvania, whither I repaired, but a clerk had been obtained. My means were nearly exhausted, and I strove to sell a diamond ring and gold pencil case to the barkeeper, and was suspected as a thief, and arrested, and my trunks examined in the presence of a large crowd, who came to the Hotel from every part of the town. I was honorably acquitted, and instantly left for Philadelphia, where I sold my ring and pencil case, and proceeded to New York, where I sold my watch. I now became desperate, and resolved to bring matters to an immediate consummation. I wrote a letter to father, and told him that I was almost deranged, and besought him to save me. The banks suspended specie payment on the day I wrote to my father, and the whole country was a commercial ruin. Father wrote me, that he had spent thousands of dollars for my education,had recently paid my debts in Andover and Providence, amounting to a thousand dollars,had let me have large sums since my marriage,was not worth over twenty thousand dollars,feared he might soon be compelled to assign his property, and could obtain no clerkship for me while the money panic raged. I proceeded to New Haven, and wrote to him again, and he responded that he would see my father-in-law, and pledge himself to meet him half-way in any proposition he might make to save me, if he sacrificed his last dollar. I went to Norwich, and wrote him again, and he informed me that he had seen my father-in-law, who declined to aid me to the extent of a penny, and said that I must effect my salvation in my own way. Although my father-in-law was worth several hundred thousand dollars, he had let me have but twenty-five dollars before or since my marriage, and when he placed this amount in my hand, he sneeringly exclaimed: I always like to help the unfortunate. In view of all this, I loathed my father-in-law, and loved my father, and wrote a fearful letter to both, (superscribing it to the former,) threatening[4] to visit Providence, and tear their hearts out if they did not instantly relieve me. I included my father in this awful letter, so that my father-in-law could not be the sole complainant against me, as I feared he would consign me to prison for years, if possible. And I was fortunate in including my beloved father in my dreadful letter, as the sequel will show. I then advanced to Scituate, about ten miles from Providence, and wrote another letter to my father and father-in-law, threatening to come to Providence on the following day, and take their lives, if they did not rescue me from my horrible dilemma. Two constables, named Gould and Potter, came to Scituate, and arrested me at the Hotel of Dr. Battey, (from which I had dated my letter,) and took me to Providence in a carriage, and put me in jail as a debtor, on a debt of five hundred dollars, created for the occasion by the wisdom of my father. My father-in-law desired to imprison me as a criminal, (as I had anticipated,) but my fathers counsels prevailed, and I was saved from a felons doom. In those days, debtors were incarcerated, and I was confined in a dark cell, by locks, and bars, and bolts, as all Providence feared I would escape, and kill my father and father-in-law, and perhaps others. Their fears were supremely ridiculous, as, if I had seriously contemplated their death, I would not have told them where I was in Scituate, nor the precise period that I should come to Providence and dispatch them. But my object was attained. I meant to have a crisis, and I got it with a vengeance on all sides. The night I entered my cell was the happiest of my life. My bed was on the floor, and rats and bugs crawled over me to their hearts content. I never slept more sweetly, though occasionally aroused by the enormous rats squealing and nibbling at my nose. The privy of the prisoners in the large debtors apartment joined my cell, and the stench was almost intolerable, and yet I soon became accustomed even to that, and for days I laughed and danced and sang as never, for I had emerged from anxiety and torture approximating purgatory itself. Mr. Parker, a debtor, soon joined me in my cell, and we played cards, and narrated our curious experience, and had a merry time; but Parker obtained his liberty, and I was again alone, and I soon got melancholy, and I wept bitterly over the calamities of my beloved wife, through her penurious and demon father. In three weeks I was permitted the freedom of the jail, which imparted perfect bliss to my disconsolate mind. I reviewed my classics and mathematics in prison, and[5] some faithful companions called, and time again passed merrily. In six weeks my father came, and (as my only complainant) effected my discharge, by withdrawing his fictitious suit for debt against me. He accompanied me in a carriage to the steamboat, and gave me money, with his most affectionate blessing, and I departed for New York, an outcast, in company with a dear relative named Franklin Cooley, who had been very kind to me during my entire confinement, and through all my days. I left my benefactor in New York, and departed for Albany, and went to my Aunt Lucys, whom I had not seen for ten years, who resided in the town of Groveland, near Geneseo, in Livingston County, in the State of New York. My grandfather, on the mothers side, left Connecticut forty years ago, in consequence of extreme melancholy, after his wifes demise, and buried himself in the wilderness of Groveland, and wrote to none of his kindred for twenty years. He first worked on a farm, and as the country became more populous, he taught school and realized enough to buy him a farm from the famous Mr. Wadsworth, whom he knew in youth in Connecticut. At the expiration of twenty years, he wrote to East Hartford, Ct., and his surviving daughter, Lucy, with her husband, a drunken and cruel vagabond, went to Groveland, and in about five years after their arrival, my grandfather died, and Aunt Lucy and her husband coaxed him in his closing hours to leave his farm to them, which was worth about twenty thousand dollars, one-half of which should have reverted to my mothers children, who were allowed one dollar each, so that they could not break the will. On my arrival, I found my aunts husband drunk, and she told me that he had involved the farm in debt, which was mortgaged for a large amount, and that he treated her like a brute. They lived in a one-story hut, consisting of one room, and a pigeon-house in the roof. I arrived at midnight, in a stage coach, and as there was no house within a mile, I was compelled to stop all night, but where I was to sleep I could not divine. Aunt Lucy asked me if I was prepared to retire, and responding yes, she lit a cheap candle, and led me to the rear of the hovel, and up she went a ladder, like a squirrel, and bade me follow. On arriving at the door of the pigeon-house, she suspended one leg to enable me to pass her, and then gave me the candle, and we bade each other good night, and I crawled in, passing through dense partitions of cobwebs, and battalions of spiders and rats, and down I lay for the night, and counted minutes until the mornings dawn, when I emerged from the hideous hole, in which I had nearly suffocated. I took breakfast, consisting of pork and herring, and visited my grandfathers grave in a distant field, and departed for Geneseo in the mail coach, where I examined my grandfathers Will, and found that my mothers children could never obtain their share of his beautiful estate. I left for Rochester, and departed for Albany in a canal boat, and worked a short time in a printing office at Utica. I left for New York, and worked a brief period in the job office of William A. Mercein, and went to Philadelphia, where I worked a week, and left for Baltimore, where I found my brother Albert, who was a compositor in the printing office of the Baltimore Sun, just started by Mr. Abel, (an old friend of mine,) whose editor and subsequent famous Washington correspondent was Sylvester S. Southworth. [Mr. Abel is a native of Warren, Rhode Island, and established the Philadelphia Ledger after the Baltimore Sun. In earlier years, Mr. Abel and myself often worked side by side as compositors in Providence, Boston, and New York.] I worked a few days in Baltimore, and arrived in Washington just prior to the[6] extra Session of Congress in 1837, and obtained a situation in the job office of Gales & Seaton, through the influence of their bookkeeper, Levi Boots, who was a room-mate of mine when I worked and boarded with Wm. Greer, of the Washington Globe, during my residence in Washington in 1830. I got $10 a week at Gales & Seatons, and soon entered Columbian College, which was located nearly two miles from Washington, whose worthy President was Mr. Chapin. I studied nights, and recited privately with Professors Ruggles and Chaplin, at daylight, and took breakfast with the students, and left for Gales & Seatons with bread and cold meat, in a little basket, for my dinner, and, after working all day, returned to Columbian College at sunset. These were the glorious days of the American Senate, and I was enchanted with Clay, Calhoun, Webster, Benton, Preston, Crittenden, Buchanan, and others, whose eloquence and anathema against the public robbers, were equal to the philippics of Cicero and Demosthenes against the scoundrels of their respective countries. The House of Representatives was full of duelists, tigers, monkeys, screech-owls, and wild-cats, who formed a perfect menagerie. I heard the exciting debate that led to poor Cilleys immolation, and attended his funeral, whose exercises were the most imposing I ever witnessed. I saw the unearthly Calhoun in the mournful procession, as it moved from the Capitol, whose brilliant eyes reflected the profoundest sorrow. I studiously avoided my old friend Causin, as I did not wish to see him after my terrible reversion of fortune. But we met by chance in the Rotunda of the Capitol, and when I related my sad story, he was deeply affected. We met again, and he seemed quite friendly, but the charm was broken, and our enthusiastic friendship soon became a matter of oblivion. I now receive a letter from William Augustus White, (dated Burlington, Vt.,) with whom I was intimate in Andover, while I was a member of Phillips Academy, and while I studied under private teachers. Young White wrote me that the Massachusetts Education Society undertook his education, but it had failed during the bankruptcy of 1837, and he was at the College at Burlington, Vt., and knew not what to do, and solicited funds to enable him to join me in Washington. I told his story to the President and Professors and students of Columbian College, and to Gales & Seaton, and to Mr. Gronard, the generous foreman of the job office, and other liberal gentlemen, who contributed money that I forwarded to White, and he came to Washington, where I obtained him a situation with Mr. Abbott, who had a Classical Academy near the Presidents. White roomed with me at Columbian College until 1839, when I became so ill, that I was compelled to relinquish my studies. My blood rushed fearfully to the brain, and I was so nervous, that I imagined if I spoke beyond a whisper, that I would break a blood vessel. I also thought if I ate solid food, I would have the cholic as soon as it entered my belly. Dr. Thomas Sewell, of Washington, came out to the College, and the students and professors gathered around my bed, and I thought I was about to die, when the Doctor, (after punching my belly rather roughly,) exclaimed: Why, Branch, you are not dangerously ill, and you could not die, if you wanted to, without suicide. You are only nervous and dyspeptic, and you remind me of a nervous person recently described in an eminent British periodical, who imagined that he had glass legs, and that, if he attempted to walk, they would snap like pipe stems. He made his friends dress him, and carry him about the house for a long period, until he nearly wore them out, and they resolved to do it no longer; and believing that[7] he could walk as well as they, they determined to try an experiment. So, they asked him if he would like to take a ride into the country. He said he would, if they would put him in the carriage. They first placed masks, torches, horns, and Indian apparel in a trunk, and placed him in the carriage, and off they drove, arriving in a deep wood before sunset, and asked him if he would get out, and sit on the grass. He said he would, if they would take him out. They carefully took him out, and seated him on the grass, and then got into the carriage, saying that they were going back to London, and that, if he accompanied them, he must get into the carriage himself, which he assured them he could not do, without breaking his glass legs. So, off they drive, amid his frantic cries to take him with them. In about two hours, a thunder storm arose, and four of them, in their frightful disguises, rapidly approached him, (amid rain, thunder, and lightning,) all masked and attired like devils and wild Indians, and made the woods ring with drums, and horns, and bagpipes. He sat firmly until they were about to inclose, and apparently devour him, when he sprang to his feet, and ran so fleetly on his supposed glass legs, that they pursued him for half a mile, and gave up the contest. They then repaired to their carriage, and although they drove tolerably fast, yet, when they arrived at their home in London, they found him sitting quietly in his easy chair, as though nothing had transpired, his fancy glass legs having distanced the fleetest horses. I had not laughed for two months, but Dr. Sewells funny and truthful story made all the students, and President, and professors roar, and I had to join them against my will. When they all retired, I arose from my bed, for the first time in ten days, and dressed and shaved myself, and raised my voice far beyond a whisper, and in one hour talked in my usual tone, and called for some beef steak, of which I ate quite heartily, and found that my nerves had bamboozled me most shamefully, and I recovered rapidly. But I was delicate, and could not work at the printing business, and my blood concentrated in the brain, and I had to cease my severe mental application, and I resolved to return to my fathers in Providence as the prodigal son. Young White accompanied me to my fathers door, and told my mournful story, when my father embraced me with his wonted affection, after an absence of nearly three years. ......Buy Now (To Read More)

Product details

Ebook Number: 49051
Author: Branch, Stephen H.
Release Date: May 26, 2015
Format: eBook
Language: English

Contributors

Editor: Branch, Stephen H