LLOYD TOMLINSON was a Virginia gentleman of the old school, and heldhigh notions on the kindred subjects of social rank and familydistinctions. His ancestors were connected with English families ofsome renown, and had figured in history as Cavaliers, during thetroublesome times of Charles I. Portraits of the most noted of thesewere hung upon the walls in Mr. Tomlinson's fine old mansion, and itwas with pride that he often referred to them and related the storyof each. But such stories were generally wound up by an expressionof regret for the sad deteriorations that were going on in thiscountry.
"A man like that," he would sometimes say, pointing to the pictureof a stern old Cavalier, "is rarely, if ever, met with, and in alittle while there will be no living representative of such--atleast not in America, where all social distinctions are rapidlydisappearing. In fact, we have scarcely any thing left, even now,but the shadow of a true aristocracy, and that is only to be foundin Virginia. At the North, mere wealth makes a man a gentleman;and this new invention of these degenerate times is fast beingadopted even here in the 'Old Dominion.' But it won't do--unless aman is born and bred a gentleman, he never can become one."
It was no use to argue with the rigid old Virginian about thearistocracy of virtue, or the aristocracy of mind; he scouted at theidea, and reiterated, with added emphasis, that only he who was bornof gentle blood could be a gentleman.
The family of Mr. Tomlinson, which had consisted of his wife, twosons, and two daughters, was, at the time our story opens, composedof only two members, himself and his youngest child, Edith, now inher nineteenth year. Death had taken all but one.
Edith, though born and bred a lady, her father observed, with pain,did not set a high value upon the distinction, and at last actuallyrefused to receive the addresses of a young man who came of pure oldEnglish blood, and was a thorough gentleman in the eyes of Mr.Tomlinson, because she liked neither his principles, habits, norgeneral character, while she looked with favour upon the advances ofa young attorney, named Denton, whose father, a small farmer inEssex county, had nothing higher than honesty and manly independenceof which to boast.
The young gentleman of pure blood was named Allison. He was the lastrepresentative of an old family, and had come into possession, onattaining his majority, of a large landed estate immediatelyadjoining that owned by Mr. Tomlinson. The refusal of Edith toreceive his addresses aroused in him an unhappy spirit, which hecherished until it inspired him with thoughts of retaliation. Themeans were in his hands. There existed an old, but not legallyadjusted question, about the title to a thousand acres of land lyingbetween the estates of Mr. Tomlinson and Mr. Allison, which had,more than fifty years before, been settled by the principal partiesthereto on the basis of a fair division, without the delay,vexation, expense, and bitterness of a prolonged lawsuit. By thisdivision, the father of Mr. Tomlinson retained possession of fivehundred acres, and the grandfather of Mr. Allison of the other fivehundred. The former had greatly improved the portion into the fullpossession of which he had come, as it was by far the most beautifuland fertile part of his estate. His old residence was torn down, anda splendid mansion erected on a commanding eminence within thelimits of this old disputed land, at a cost of nearly eightythousand dollars, and the whole of the five hundred acres graduallybrought into a high state of cultivation. To meet the heavy outlayfor all this, other and less desirable portions of the estate weresold, until, finally, only about three hundred acres of the originalTomlinson property remained.
Mr. Lloyd Tomlinson, as he advanced in years, and felt theparalyzing effects of the severe afflictions he had suffered, lostmuch of the energy he had possessed in his younger days. There was agradual diminution in the number of hogsheads of tobacco and bushelsof corn and wheat that went into Richmond from his plantationannually; and there was also a steady decrease in the slavepopulation with which he was immediately surrounded. From a hundredand fifty, his slaves had decreased, until he only owned thirty, andwith them did little more than make his yearly expenses. Field afterfield had been abandoned, and left to a fertile undergrowth of pinesor scrubby oaks, until there were few signs of cultivation, exceptwithin the limits of two or three hundred acres of the rich landscontiguous to his dwelling.
Henry Denton, the young attorney to whom allusion has been made, hadbecome deeply enamoured with Edith Tomlinson, who was often met byhim in her unaristocratic intercourse with several excellent andhighly intelligent families in the neighbourhood. To see her, wasfor him to love her; but the pride of her father was too well knownby him to leave much room for hope that the issue of his passionwould be successful, even if so fortunate as to win the heart of themaiden. He was inspired with courage, however, by the evident favourwith which she regarded him, and even tempted to address her inlanguage that no woman's ear could mistake--the language of love.Edith listened with a heart full of hope and fear. She had greatrespect for the character of Denton, which she saw was based uponvirtuous principles; and this respect easily changed into love thatwas true and fervent; but she knew too well her father'sdeeply-rooted prejudices in favour of rank and family, to hope thatthe current of her love would run smooth. This proved to be no idlefear. When Henry Denton ventured to approach Mr. Tomlinson on thesubject of his love for Edith, the old gentleman received him withgreat discourtesy.
"Who are you, sir?" he asked, drawing himself proudly up.
"I hardly think you need ask that question," the young man replied."I am not an entire stranger to you, nor unknown in yourneighbourhood."
"But who are you, sir? That is what I ask to know. Who is yourfather?"
"An honest man, sir." The young man spoke with firmness and dignity.
"Humph! there are plenty of them about. I could marry my daughter toan honest man any day I liked. Old Cato, my coachman, is an honestman; but that is no reason why I should let his son Sam marry Edith.No, my young friend, you cannot connect yourself with my family; becontent with the daughter of some honest man like your father."
But the lover was not to be driven off by even such a rude repulse.He tried to argue his case, but Mr. Tomlinson cut the matter shortby starting from his seat in great discomposure of mind, andpointing with a trembling hand to a grim picture on the wall, whilehe thus addressed the young man:--
"That, sir, is the portrait of Sir Edgar Tomlinson, who, byinterposing his body between the spear of a Roundhead and his royalmaster, saved his life at the imminent risk of his own, for whichgallant deed he was knighted, and afterwards presented, by royalhands, with a noble bride. When you have done as great a deed, youngman, you will be worthy to claim the hand of my daughter--notbefore!"
Saying this, the excited father turned away and strode from theroom, leaving Denton in dismay at the quick and hopeless terminationof his conference.
On the next day, the young attorney, who was known to possess finetalents, acuteness, and extensive legal knowledge, was waited uponby Mr. Allison.
"I wish your services, Mr. Denton," said he, "in a suit of greatimportance that I am about commencing. Here is your retainingfee,"--and he laid upon the table of the lawyer a check for twohundred dollars. "If you gain me my cause, your entire fee will befive thousand dollars."
Allison then went on to state, that Mr. Tomlinson's claim to thefive hundred acres next adjoining his (Allison's) plantation, andupon which his mansion stood, was a very doubtful one. That it, infact, belonged to the Allison estate, and he was going to have thequestion of rightful ownership fully tested. He furnished the youngattorney with documents, data, and every thing required forcommencing the suit. Denton asked a week for an examination of thewhole matter. At the end of this time, Allison again waited on him.
"Well, sir, what do you think of my case?" he said.
"I think it a doubtful one," was replied. "Still, it is possible youmight gain it, as there are one or two strong points in yourfavour."
"I have not the least doubt of it. At any rate, I am going to givethe matter a fair trial. Five hundred acres of such land are worthan effort to gain."
"But you must not forget that, as you will open the question ofownership on the whole tract of one thousand acres, you run the riskof losing the half of which you are now in possession."
"I'm willing to run the risk of losing five hundred acres ofuncultivated land in the effort to acquire possession of as large aquantity in a high state of improvement," returned theuncompromising gentleman 'born and bred.' "So you will forthwithmake a beginning in the matter."
The young attorney was grave and silent for some time. Then openinga drawer, he took out the check which had been given to him as aretaining fee, and handing it to Allison, said--"I believe, sir, Imust decline this case."
"Why so?" quickly asked the young man, a deep flush passing over hisbrow.
"I do it from principle," was replied. "I find, on examining thewhole matter, that your grandfather and the father of Mr. Tomlinson,while in possession of their respective estates, in view of thedifficulty there was in settling the precise title of the tract ofland, agreed to an equal division of it, which was done in honourand good faith, and I do not think their heirs, on either side, haveany right to disturb the arrangement then made."
"I did not ask you to judge the case, but to present it forjudgment," said Allison, greatly offended. "You may, perhaps, besorry for this."
Another member of the bar, less scrupulous about the principlesinvolved in a case, readily undertook the matter; and as the fee, ifhe proved successful, was to be a large one, opened it immediately.
When Mr. Tomlinson received notice of the fact that thislong-settled dispute was again to be revived, he was thrown into afever of alarm and indignation. The best counsel that could beemployed was obtained, and his right to the whole thousand acresvigorously maintained. After a year of delays, occasioned bydemurrers, allegations, and all sorts of legal hinderances, made andprovided for the vexation of clients, the question came fairlybefore the court, where it was most ably argued on both sides forsome days. When the decision at length came, it was adverse to Mr.Tomlinson.
An appeal was entered, and preparations made for a more vigorouscontest in a higher court. Here the matter remained for over a year,when the decision of the first tribunal was confirmed.
Two years of litigation had made sad work with old Mr. Tomlinson; helooked at least ten years older. The same signs of decay appeared inevery thing around him; his fields remained uncultivated, the fenceswere broken down, and cattle strayed where once were acres of grainor other rich products. Slaves and stock had been sold to meet theheavy expenses to which this suit had subjected him, and every thingseemed fast tending towards ruin. Once or twice during the period,Denton again approached him on the subject of Edith, but the proudold aristocrat threw him off even more impatiently than at first.
Edith, too, had changed during this time of trouble; she was rarelyseen abroad, and received but few visitors at home. No one saw hersmile, unless when her father was present; and then her manner wascheerful, though subdued. It was clear that she was strugglingagainst her own feelings, in the effort to sustain his. Her fatherhad extorted from her a promise never to marry without his consent;this settled the matter for the time between her and Denton,although both remained faithful to each other; they had not met forover a year.
Meantime the cause was carried up still higher, where it remainedfor two years longer, and then another adverse decision was made.Mr. Tomlinson was in despair; what with court charges, counsel fees,and loss from the diminished productions of his farm, he had sunk inthe last four years over fifteen thousand dollars, a portion ofwhich had been raised by mortgage on that part of his estate towhich he had an undisputed title, almost equal to the full value ofthe land.
To the Supreme Court the matter came at last, but the old man hadbut little hope. In three courts, after a long and patient hearing,the decision had been against him; if it should again be adverse, hewould be totally ruined. As it was, so greatly had his means becomereduced, that it was with difficulty he could raise sufficient moneyto pay off the heavy expenses of the last court. The fees of his twoattorneys were yet unsettled, and he feared, greatly, that he shouldnot be able to induce more than one of them to attend at the SupremeCourt. On the other side, money was expended freely, and the mostenergetic counsel that money could command enlisted. The fact was,the principal reason why Mr. Tomlinson had failed in each of thethree trials that had already taken place lay in the superior tact,activity, and ability of the adverse counsel.
The anxiously looked-for period at length came, and Mr. Tomlinsonmade preparations for leaving home to meet the final issue, afternearly five years of most cruel litigation.
"Dear father!" said Edith, as they were about to separate. She spokewith forced calmness, while a faint smile of encouragement playedabout her lips; her voice was low and tender. "Dear father, do notlet this matter press too heavily upon you; I have a hope that allwill come out right. I do not know why, but I feel as if thisdreadful blow will not be permitted to fall. Be calm, be brave, dearfather! even the worst can be borne."
The maiden's voice began to quiver, even while she uttered hopefulwords. Mr. Tomlinson, whose own heart was full, bent down and kissedher hurriedly. When she looked up, he was gone. How fast the tearsflowed, as she stood alone on the spot where they had just parted!
A few hours after the father had left, a gentleman called and askedto see Edith. On entering the room where he had been shown by theservant, she found a young man whose countenance she had never seenbefore. He. made known his business after a few embarrassingpreliminaries, which proved to be an overture of peace from Allison,if she would accept the offer of marriage he had made her five yearspreviously. After hearing the young man patiently through, Edithreplied, in a firm voice--"Tell Mr. Allison that there is no evil inthis world or the next that I would consider greater than a marriagewith him."
He attempted to urge some considerations upon her, but she raisedher hand, and said, in a tone of decision, "You have my answer, sir;take it to your principal."
The young man bowed, and withdrew in silence. He felt awed beneaththe steady eye, calm face, and resolute voice of the maiden, crushedalmost to the earth as she was.
When Mr. Tomlinson arrived at the capital, he found neither of hiscounsel there, although the case was expected to be reached on thesucceeding day. On the next morning he received a note from one ofthem, which stated that illness would prevent his attending. Theother attorney was prepared to go on with the case, but he was byfar the weakest of the two.
On the opposite side there was the strongest possible array, both asto number and talents. Mr. Tomlinson felt that his case washopeless. On the first day the prosecution argued their case withgreat ability. On the second day, the claims of Mr. Tomlinson werepresented, with even less point and tact than before; it was clearthat the advocate either considered the case a bad one, or had lostall interest in it. The other side followed with increasedconfidence, and, it was plain, made a strong impression upon thecourt. A feeble rejoinder was given to this, but it produced littleor no effect.
Just at this crisis, an individual, not before particularly noticedby Mr. Tomlinson, arose and addressed the court. His opening remarksshowed him to be familiar with the whole subject, and his tone andmanner exhibited a marked degree of confidence. It was soon apparentwhich side of the case he had taken; if by nothing else, by thefrown that settled upon the brow of Allison. He was a young man,tall and well made, with a strong, clear voice, and a fine commandof language. The position in which he stood concealed so much of hisface from Mr. Tomlinson, that the latter could not make out whetherit was one with which he was familiar or not. The voice he had heardbefore.
The volunteer advocate, after having occupied the court for an hour,during which time he had shown a most minute and accurate knowledgeof the matter in dispute, gave the whole question a new aspect.During the second hour that his argument was continued, in whichprecedent after precedent, not before introduced, were broughtforward, bearing a direct application to the case under review, thecourt exhibited the most marked attention. When he concluded, allpresent saw hope for the old Virginian.
This new and unexpected champion in the cause aroused the counsel ofAllison to another and more determined effort; but he tore theirarguments into ribands, and set off their authorities with anoverwhelming array of decisions directly in the teeth of those theyintroduced bearing upon their side of the question. It was wonderfulto observe his perfect familiarity with the whole matter in dispute,the law bearing upon it, and the decisions of courts in this countryand England, that could in any way throw light upon it, faroutstripping the learned advocates on both sides, who had been atwork upon the case for five years.
During the time this brilliant champion was fighting his battle forhim in the last defensible position he could ever obtain, Mr.Tomlinson remained as if fixed to the spot where he was sitting, yetwith his mind entirely active. He saw, he felt that there was hopefor him; that this heaven-sent advocate, whoever he was, would savehim from ruin. At last the case closed, and the court announced thatits decision would be given in the morning.
"Who is he?" Mr. Tomlinson heard some one ask of his persecutor, asthe young man closed his last and most brilliant effort.
With an imprecation uttered between his teeth, he replied, "One thatrefused to take my side, although I offered him a fee of fivethousand dollars if successful."
"What is his name?"
"Denton."
"Pity you couldn't have secured him."
Mr. Tomlinson heard no more. He turned his eyes upon the young manhe had three times rudely repulsed, but he could not see his face;he was bending over and arranging some papers. The announcement ofthe court, in regard to the time when a decision was to be made,drew his attention from him. When he again sought the youngattorney, he was gone.
Nearly a week of most distressing suspense was suffered by Edith.Every day she heard from her father, but all was doubt anddespondency, until there came a letter announcing the suddenappearance of a volunteer advocate, who had changed the whole aspectof affairs, and created the most lively hopes of success. Who hewas, the letter did not say.
During the morning that succeeded the one on which this letter wasreceived, Edith wandered about the house like a restless spirit. Thedecision had been made on the day previous, and in a few hours herfather would be home. What intelligence would he bring? Whenever sheasked herself that question, her heart trembled. Twenty times hadshe been to the highest windows in the house to look far away wherethe road wound down a distant hill, to see if the carriage werecoming, although she knew two hours must elapse before her fathercould possibly arrive.
At last the long and anxiously looked-for object came in sight,winding along the road far in the distance. Soon it passed fromview, and she waited breathlessly, until it should appear at anearer point. Again it met her eyes, and again disappeared. At lastit reached the long avenue of poplars that lined the carriage-wayleading up to the house; the horses were coming at a rapid speed.Edith could not breathe in the rooms--the atmosphere was oppressive.She went into the porch, and, leaning against or rather clinging toone of the pillars, stood almost gasping for breath. The suspenseshe suffered was awful; but certainty soon came. The carriagewhirled rapidly into its position before the door, and Mr. Tomlinsonsprang from it as agile as a boy. He had merely time to say--
"All is safe!" when Edith sank into his arms, unable longer tostand.
"And here is our noble champion," he added, as another stood by hisside.
Edith opened her eyes, that she had closed in the excess of joy; theface of her lover was near her. She looked up at him for a moment,and then closed them again; but now the tears came stealing throughher shut lids.
The young lawyer had gained two suits in one. Three monthsafterwards Edith was his bride, and the dowry was the five hundredacres of land from the estate of Allison, awarded to her father bythe Supreme Court.
THE END.
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