Chapter I.

To give some idea of the high esteem in
which the subject of the following narrative is
held, and the strong interest her misfortunes
have excited, a few, from the great number of
recommendations in her possession, are selected:
and it may be well to present them in
the onset, that all may be satisfied of the entire
worthiness of her character, and credibility of
her statements. These certificates were all voluntarily
given, by the several ladies whose names
are subjoined.

“Having employed Elleanor Eldridge to work
for me, occasionally, during the last sixteen
years, at white-washing, painting, papering, &c.
I can recommend her, as an honest, industrious,
and faithful woman, who has been peculiarly
unfortunate in the loss of her property,
which she obtained by thirty years of hard labor. 6
She has been unremitting in her exertions,
to save enough to support herself in declining
age, and invested all her savings in real
estate, which was cruelly taken from her,
while performing her duty in another State, as
will appear in the history of her life. Had she
remained in her native State, this dire misfortune
might have been averted. Elleanor has been truly unfortunate. She
has suffered agony of body and mind. She has
had every thing striped from her, when she
least expected it; and she was thrown upon the
world, pennyless, after having cleared, on anan
average, more than one hundred dollars per annum,
besides her support, during the thirty
years above-mentioned, which, if placed at interest,
annually, would have made her comparatively
rich. She denied herself all, save the
bare necessaries of life, to accomplish the desired
end; yet she has been always ready to
lend a helping hand to any of her relations who
were needy, or in distress. She has been thro
life, and still is valuable to her numerous employers.
She is a kind friend to those allied to
her by the ties of blood; to whom, I believe,
she never turned a deaf ear, or denied them relief
which might be in her power to give. 7 The object in publishing her life, is to help
raise a sum of money which must be paid, or
she never can clear her property from its present
incumbrance. She may be found, daily at
work, from sun-rise until sun-set, for good wages;
yet she cannot accomplish the desired end,
without the assistence of friends to humanity
and justice. I hope a liberal public will patronise
this work, for her sake, as well as that
of her unfortunate race, who ought to be assisted
rather than crushed, when they live a virtuous,
industrious, and sober life, and not allowed
to suffer wrongs, through their ignorance,
that may be averted, by the timely assistance of
the enlightened part of mankind. A. G. D. Providence, 1838-07-19July 19, 1838.” “We, the undersigned, having known and employed
Elleanor Eldridge to work for us during
many years, recommend her as an uncommonly
industrious woman—honest and faithful. We
think her deserving to hold the property so
dearly bought, with the hard labor of thirty
years; and worthy of a premium for her untiring 8
perseverance to make herself independent of
charity, when sickness, or old age should disable
her to pursue her accustomed avocations. Anna Arnold, Anna Lockwood, Amey A. Arnold, Mrs. Elizabeth Elliot, Mrs. W. Rhodes, A. T. Lockwood, D. B. Lockwood, Mrs. E. G. Chandler, Mary T. Gladding, Mrs. H. Chandler, Mrs. H. Cushing.” “This may certify that I have been acquainted
with Elleanor Eldridge thirty-five years.—
Twelve years she lived with Captain Benjamin
Greene, at Warwick Neck, and made his dairy.
She was at our house a number of times,
to visit our colored woman. I think her to be
a very respectable woman. This may also certify
that I agree to the forgoing statement of
Anna Lockwood and others. Mrs. Nancy Webb. Providence, 1838-07-20July 20, 1838.” 9
“This is to certify that I have known Elleanor
Eldrige for a number of years, and, during
that time, I can truly say, that she has been a
very industrious, prudent, and respectable woman;
laboring early and late, to obtain, not only
a livlihood, but a competency, that in her
declining age she may not be dependant, upon
the sympathies of a cold, uncharitable world,
nor a pauper on her native town; which course,
I think, is highly praisworthy. And as she has
been wrongfully used, in regard to her property,
I think it calls loudly to those friends who
have employed her, for many years, and whose
labors have given satisfaction, to endeavor at
this present crisis, to lend a helping hand to
the wants of suffering humanity; which can be
done by subscribing for the little work, which
is to be published, giving the history of her life;
or, by recommending her to the notice of the
public, as one who ought to be encouraged,
and patronised. She has worked for me during
the last year at white-washing, and papering,
which have been done in the neatest manner;
and I can recommend her as one who
can be trusted to do the most delicate work in
those branches; not only from my own experience, 10
but reputation; I therefore would solicit,
with others, the sympathies of the benevolent,
in encouraging one who has literally obtained
what little she possesses in the world, by the
sweat of her brow. And if we by a little sacrifice,
can render any service to one of our fellow
beings, in the hour of affliction, we shall be
abundantly recompensed, by the rich luxury of
doing good; and answer in some degree, the
design for which our Creator made us, to do
good, as we have opportunity. I cordially give
the above recommendation, and hope that the
plans devised by her friends to secure her property,
may meet with abundant encouragement
and success. Respectfully, yours, 1838-07-28July 28, 1838. Mary. B. Annable.” 11

Chapter II.

It should not be considered essential to the
interest and value of biography, that its subject
be of exalted rank, or illustrious name. There
is often a kind of ignus-fatuus light, playing
around such names, calculated to dazzle and
mislead, by their false lustre; until the eye
can no longer receive the pure light of Truth,
or the mind appreciate real excellence, or intrinsic
worth. On the other hand, it often
happens that, by lending our attention to the
lowly fortunes of the indigent and obscure, important
principles may be established, valuable
truths elicited; and pure, and even lofty examples
of virtue may be found. Then let no one
turn with too much nicety from the simple story
of the humble Elleanor, though it may contain
few, or none, of the thrilling charms of
poetry and passion.

Elleanor Eldridge, on the one hand, is the
inheritress of African blood, with all its heirship
of wo and shame; and the subject of
wrong and banishment, by her Indian maternity
on the other. Fully, and sadly, have these
titles been redeemed. It seems, indeed, as if 12
the wrongs and persecutions of both races had
fallen upon Elleanor.

She was born at Warwick, R. I., 1785-03-26March 26,
1785. Her paternal grandfather was a native
African. He was induced, with his family, to
come on board an American slaver, under pretence
of trade. With a large quantity of tobacco,
prepared for barter, the simple-hearted
African stepped fearlessly on board the stranger’s
ship, followed by his wife and little ones.

For some time he continued a friendly exchange
of his staple commodity, for flannels
and worsted bindings of gay and various colors.
Already, in imagination, had his wife
decorated herself with the purchased finery,
and walked forth amid the villages, the envy
and admiration of all the belles of Congo; and
already had the honest African, himself, rivaled
in splendor the princes of his land. Having
furnished his bargains, Dick, for that was
the name of the Congo chieftain, proposed to
return; but his hospitable entertainers would,
on no account, allow him to depart without further
attentions. Refreshments were handed
freely about, with many little presents of small
value. Then all the wonders of the ship, with 13
the mysteries of operating its machinery, were
to be explained to the intelligent, but uninformed
stranger; while appropriate curiosities were
displayed before the wondering eyes of his
wife and children. By these means the confidence
of the simple Africans was completely
won.

Gaily the little ones danced along the buoyant
deck, hardly restrained by their watchful
and anxious mother; while, ever and anon,
they caroled sweet legends of their own sunny
vales, blithe and careless as the sea-birds, which,
even then, were skimming along the surface of
the sea, ruffling the billowy tresses of the deep.
Still the chief was detained; and still remained
unsuspecting; until, to his utter horror, he
found that his detainers, under pretence of illustrating
some operation, had carefully weighed
anchor, and were putting out to sea.

Vain were any attempt to depict the horrors
of this scene. The African stood on the
deck, with streaming eyes, stretching his arms
out towards his own beautiful Congo; which
lay, even then, distinctly visible, with the ruby
light of sunset, stealing, like a presence of joy,
through bower and vale, tinging the snowy 14
cups of a thousand lilies. There too was his
own beloved Zaire, stealing away from the distant
forests of mangrove and bondo,Open note a001-rota “We cannot conclude this account of the principal vegetable
productions of Lower Guinea, without mentioning
that colossus of the earth, the enormous baobab, or Adansonia
digitata, which is here called ‘aliconda bondo’ and
‘mapou’. It abounds throughout the whole kingdom of
Congo; and is so large that the arms of twenty men cannot
embrace it.” —Maltebrun, on the authority of Tuchelli.
and flowing
on within its lovely borders of tamarind
and cedar, until, at last, it rushed into the
arms of the Atlantic, troubling the placid bosom
of the ocean with its tumultuous waters.Open note a002-rota The river Congo, called by the natives Zaire, or Zahire,
is three leagues wide at its mouth; and empties itself
into the sea with so much impetuosity, that no depth
can there be taken.

Again he caught a gleam of his palm-roofed
home, with all its clustering vines, from the
rich forests of Madeira; its beautiful groves of
cocoa and matoba, and its wide fields of masanga,
Open note a003-rota The masanga is a species of millet, highly pleasant
both in taste and smell; the ears of which are a foot
long, and weigh from two to three pounds. luno,Open note a004-rota The luno forms a very white and pleasant bread, as
good as that made of wheat. It is the common food of
Congo. and maize; all waving richly 15
beneath the bowing wind, rife with the promise
of an abundant and joyful harvest. Beyond,
in holy solitude, stood the tree of his worship,
the sacred mironne,Open note a005-rota The mironne of the same genus, (of the enzanda) is
an object of adoration to the negroes. in its garments of eternal
green, an apt emblem of the undying soul. He
could almost see the tulipOpen note a006-rota In every direction there are entire groves of tulips, of
the most lively colors, intermixed with the tube-rose and
hyacinth. groves where his
children played; could almost see the light garlands
of tube rose and hyacinth, their sportive
hands had wreathed; with the rich clusters of
nicossoOpen note a007-rota The nicosso grows in clusters of the form of a pineapple.
and tamba,Open note a008-rota “The tamba is a species of bread fruit.” —Maltebrun. they had gathered for
their evening banquet. He could almost hear
the murmurs of the home returning bees, as
they lingered in the sweet groves of orange and
pomegranate; for despair had quickened the
senses: and a thousand objects, with all their
thronging associations, came rushing to the
mind, in that one agonising moment, to quicken
and aggravate its conceptions of eternal loss.

He stretched out his arms, and, in the agony 16
of desperation, was about to leap into the sea,
when his frantic wife, casting aside her screeching
children, flung herself upon his bosom, and
so restrained him. No sigh, no tear relieved
him; but his bosom heaved convulsively; and
the muscles and sinews became rigid, as if horror
had absolutely taken away the power of
thought, or motion. The wife was more violent.
With the most fearful cries she flung
herself at the captain’s feet and embracing his
knees, begged for mercy. Then successively
she embraced her weeping children; and at
last, sank exhausted into the arms of her husband.
It was all in vain. They were chained,
and ordered below; where the sight of hundreds
of wretches, stolen, wronged, wretched
as themselves, only showed them that they were
lost forever.

No tongue can depict the horrors of that passage.
No imagination can form even a faint
outline of its sufferings. Physical torture
wrought its work. Humanity was crushed
within them; and they were presented for
sale, more than half brutalized for the brutal
market. Few minds ever rise from this state,
to any thing of their former rigor. The ancestor 17
of Elleanor had one of these few; and
though his pride was crushed, and his hopes
forever extinguished, still he felt, and acted as
a man.

But little more than the foregoing particulars
is known to the subject of this narrative, concerning
her ancestor, save that his African
name was Dick; and that he had four children;
one daughter Phillis; and three sons; Dick,
George, and Robin; of whom the latter was
her father.

At the commencement of the American Revolution,
Robin Eldridge, with his two brothers,
presented themselves as candidates for liberty.
They were promised their freedom, with the
additional premium of 200 acres of land in the
Mohawk country, apiece.

These slaves fought as bravely, and served
as faithfully, under the banner of Freedom, as
if they had always breathed her atmosphere,
and dwelt forever in her temple; as if the collar
had never bowed down their free heads, nor
the chain oppressed their strong limbs. What
were toils, privations, distress, dangers? Did
they not already see the morning star of freedom,
glimmering in the east? Were they not 2 18
soon to exhibit one of the most glorious changes
in nature? Were they not soon to start up
from the rank of goods and chattels, into men?
Would they not soon burst from the grovelling
crysalis; and, spreading out the wings of the
soul, go abroad in the glad sun-shine, inhaling
the pure air of liberty?

Oh, liberty! What power dwells in the softest
whisper of thy syllables, acting like magic
upon the human soul! He who first woke thy
slumbering echoes, was a magician more potent
than ever dwelt in the halls of genii; for he
had learned a spell that should rouse a principle
of the soul, to whose voice, throughout the
wide earth, every human spirit should respond;
until its power should be coextensive with the
habitations of mind, and coeternal with its existence.

These poor slaves toiled on in their arduous
duties: and while they literally left foot-prints
of blood, upon the rough flint, and the crusted
snow; they carried a fire within their bosoms
which no sufferings could extinguish, no cold
subdue—the God-enkindled fire of liberty.—
They counted their perils and their sufferings
joy, for the blessed reward that lay beyond.— 19
Most dearly did they purchase and well they
won the gift.

At the close of the war they were pronounced
free; but their services were paid in the old
Continental money, the depreciation, and final
ruin of which, left them no wealth but the one
priceless gem, liberty.—They were free.—
Having no funds, they could not go to take
posession of their lands on the Mohawk. And,
to this day, their children have never been able
to recover them; though, by an act of Congress,
it was provided, that all soldiers’ children who
were left incapable of providing for themselves
should “inherit the promises” due to their
fathers. The subject of this memoir, attracted
by an advertisement to this effect, attempted to
recover something for a young brother and sister;
but with the success which too often attends
upon honest poverty, struggling with adverse
circumstances. Her efforts were of no
avail.

The spirit of Robin Eldridge was not to be
broken down. Before entering the army he
had married Hannah Prophet; and he now
settled in Warwick, near the Fulling-Mill;
where, by his honest industry, and general good 20
character, he was always held in esteem. He
soon became able to purchase land and build a
small house; when he reared a large family, all
of whom inherit their father’s claims to the
kindness and respect of those about them. He
had, by this marriage, nine children; of whom
Elleanor was the last of seven successive daughters.
Of these children only five lived to mature
age.

It may now be proper to look back a little,
in order to glance at Elleanor’s maternal ancestry.
Her maternal grandmother, Mary Fuller,
was a native Indian, belonging to the small
tribe, or clan, called the Fuller family; which
was probably a portion of the Narragansett
tribe. Certain it is that this tribe, or family,
once held great possessions in large tracts of
land; with a portion of which Mary Fuller
purchased her husband Thomas Prophet; who,
until his marriage, had been a slave. Mary
Fuller, having witnessed the departing glories
of her tribe, died in extreme old age, at the
house of her son, Caleb Prophet; being 102
years old. She was buried at the Thomas
Greene burying place in Warwick, in the year
17801780. Her daughter Hannah, as we have said 21
before, had been married to Robin Eldridge,
the father of Elleanor.

Our heroine had the misfortune to lose her
mother at the age of ten years; when she
launched out boldly into the eventful life which
lay before her, commencing, at once, her own
self government, and that course of rigorous
and spirited action, for which she has since
been so much distinguished.

During her mother’s life, it had often been
her practice to follow washing, at the house of
Mr. Joseph Baker, of Warwick; a daughter of
whom, Miss Elleanor Baker, gave her own
name to the little one she often carried with
her; and always continued to take great interest
in her little colored name-sake. Not long
after the death of her mother, this young lady
called on Elleanor, and invited her to come and
reside with her, at her father’s, offering her a
home. She asked permission of her father,
who consented, but with this remark, that she
would not stay a week. The young heroine
was not, however, to be so discouraged; but
bravely collected herself, and began by making
a definite bargain with Miss Baker, before she
consented to put herself under her protection, 22
evincing, by this single act, a degree of prudence
and wisdom entirely beyond her years.
She fixed her price at 25 cents per week, and
agreed to work for one year.

It was Sunday evening, in the changeful
month of April, when Elleanor, with her whole
wardrobe contained in the little bundle she
held, stood with the family group she was about
to quit forever. Let not the proud aristocrat
smile disdainfully, because the biographer of
poor Elleanor lingers a moment here. Home
is home, to the lowly as well as the great; and
no rank, or color, destroys its sacred character,
its power over the mind, and the affections.—
The sundering of family ties is always painful;
and I have often thought that among the poor
it is eminently so. There is nothing which
strengthens the bonds of love so much as mutual
suffering.

“When joy has bound our hearts for years, A sudden storm those hearts may sever, But, Oh, the love that springs in tears. Through time and change, endures forever;”

truly and beautifully says the poet. The ties,
then, which unite families among the virtuous
poor, are wrought from the deepest and strongest, 23
and holiest principles of our nature. They
have toiled, and struggled, and suffered together;
until bond strengthens bond, and heart is
knit with heart, by the strongest and most endearing
ties. The world beyond and above,
may persecute, oppress, and wrong them; yet
out of these very circumstances springs a sympathy
stronger than the great and the fashionable
ever know. In the little sanctuary of a
common house, all may gather themselves together
and cherish this boon as their best treasure.
Exterior to home the poor have no hope,
no pleasure, no ambition, no desires; all the
bliss of life is concentrated within its charmed
circle; and, of necessity, its power is strong.

Our young heroine, having walked several
times through the standing group, went again
to the little nook in the chimney, where neatly
ranged on their little shelves, were her playthings;
shells and pebbles from the beach, little
baskets made by her own hand; rag babies
and acorns gathered from the wood. She loved
these things more dearly than the children
of the rich love their gilded toys; for they were
full of the pleasant associations of her early
childhood. She looked at them a moment, 24
then turned and looked out of the window.—
There was the little wood where she, with her
happy brothers and sisters, had always played
together, and in the bank close by the window,
was her houses and ovens, with their sand pies
and mud puddings, baking in clam and quahaug
shells. She turned from the window,
stooped to kiss the baby, that, with waddling
steps, was trying to reach her favorite play-fellow;
appearing to have an instinctive perception
of something sad in the uncommon silence.
The first to speak, for some minutes was the
little brother then only five years old.

He sprung to his sister’s arms, and clinging
around her neck, cried “Dont go, Nelly! I
play alone. I be tired. I cry!” and, suiting
the action to the word, the poor little fellow
burst into tears.

Elleanor swallowed, as well as she was able,
the big lump that was raising in her throat, and
comforted him with the promise of coming
back soon.

“How long will be soon?” cried the child,
still-clinging to his sister, who was trying to
disengage herself from him. “Will it be all
night? Say Nelly?”

25

She could not answer; but placing her hands
silently in those of her two elder sisters, and
pausing a moment before her father, she turned
from the door, wiped the tears away with the
corner of her short-gown, and ran along the
road quite fast, to escape the earnest cries of
her weeping brother.

The heart of childhood is always buoyant;
and that of Elleanor was soon bounding lightly
again; for ambitious projects were, even then,
beginning to germinate in her young bosom.—
She paused at a turn in the road, which gave
her a last view of the cottage; and, looking
back for a moment she wiped another tear away;
and resumed her walk. The distance was two
miles; and Elleanor reached there before sunset.
She was kindly received, even by the old
dog and house cat; but she felt somewhat disinclined
for society, and she soon begged permission
to retire to her little bed; where her
slumbers were soft and sweet, as if she had
slept on a bed of down, garnished with the
most splendid drapery. Blessed are the slumbers
of the innocent! They are kindlier than
balm; and they refresh and gladden the spirit
of childhood, like ministerings from a better
world.

26

Chapter III.

The new relation into which Elleanor had
entered, tended to produce mutual satisfaction
to the parties sustaining it. Kindness and good
feeling, on the part of employers, seldom fail
to seeuresecure industry and fidelity, in that of the
employed. When a mistress, and the several
members of her family, manifest an interest in
the welfare of their servants—when they show
them that they are considered as human beings,
belonging to the same great family of man—
that the common rights of humanity are understood
and regarded—that those who perform
their servile labors are members of the same
family, sustaining certain relations, and filling
certain places (by no means unimportant ones)
in the gradations of society—and are not the
mere instruments of their own selfish gratification
—created to administer to their pleasures;
the interests of the serving and the served, generally
become identified; and the heart quickens
and strengthens the hands in the perform— 27
ance of duty. Those who are governed by
these principles know their weight and force;
sorrowful it is to think, that the world will not
also learn, that kind and judicious masters and
mistresses, generally are blessed with efficient
and faithful servants. I, by no means, intend
to lay all the follies, vices, and crimes of servants
at the door of their employers; but I
am persuaded that the comforts, rights, and,
more especially, the moral health of domestics
is shamefully neglected. Instead of being
treated as accountable beings—as persons indeed,
capable of independent thought, feeling,
and action—susceptible alike of pleasure and
pain, they are considered as the mere appendages
of luxury; and being generally left to their
own wayward courses, often sink into depravity
and vice, when a little of kindness and good
feeling, a little affectionate interest and judicious
advice, might restrain and save them.—
Let them who think lightly of these things, consider
the immense value of a single human being!
Were this considered, and acted upon,
a reformation in the department of domestic
service, would soon begin; and the blessings
which would flow from it, would be greater 28
than a superficial thinker might be made to
believe could proceed from such a source. But
enough of this.

With the early dawn Elleanor was seen,
dashing away the dews with her little bare feet,
as she drove the cows to pasture; all the time
singing blithely, as the birds themselves. She
always had a provident eye on the poultry and
the happiest art of finding their hiding-places.
No hen’s nest throughout all the varieties of
place, stable, hay-loft, wood-pile, thicket, meadow,
or out-building, escaped her searching eye.
She won the confidence of her feathered friends
so entirely, by her zealous attention to their
wants, that she could, with all the sang freid
of her Indian character, cross the path of some
sly old turkey, about starting to her nest, without
exciting the least apprehension; and, with
apparent listlessness and unconcern, watching
all the artful doublings and windings of that
wary foul, she would soon start, with a light
step, to her chosen sanctum, and so make herself
mistress of the poor turkey’s secret sans
ceremonic. In such cases when she returned
with her course apron laden with the mottled
treasure, she always men such a warm smile, 29
as was, at once, a reward for the present, and
inventive to the future. Not only the family,
but every living creature about the house and
farm, loved little Elleanor. The dog and cat,
the horses, cows, pigs, sheep and poultry, all
knew her light step, and in their several ways,
manifested their love. And well they might;
for when they were well, she fed them; and
when they were sick, she nursed them; and
she always took the kindest care of the young
and helpless.

At the expiration of the year, Elleanor received
her wages, and commenced a new term
of service for 2s. per week.

The marriage, and consequent removal, of
her young mistress, to whom she was tenderly
attached, was a great trial to her; and for some
time she was very melancholy and home-sick;
but she recovered, at length, her usual degree
of cheerfulness.

With this kind family she remained five
years and nine months. During that time she
learned all the varieties of house-work, and
every kind of spinning; and in the last year
she learned plain, double, and ornamental
weaving, in which she was considered particularly 30
expert. This shews that our heroine has
great mechacicalmechanical genius; or, to speak phrenologically,
that her “constructiveness,” “comparison,”
and “calculation” are well developed.
This double weaving, as it is called—i.e. carpets,
old fashioned coverlets, damask, and bedticking,
is said to be a very difficult and complicated
process; and I presume there are few
girls of fourteen, capable of mastering such an
intricate business; and when we consider that
she was entirely uneducated; that her powers
had never been disciplined by any course of
study, it seems really wonderful that she could
enter into this difficult business, at that early
age, with so much spirit and success. Yet
she was, at the expiration of the year, pronounced
a competent and fully-accomplished
weaver.

In the commencement of her sixteenth year,
Elleanor took leave of her kind patrons, and
went to live next at Capt. Benjamin Greene’s,
at Warwick Neck, to do their spinning for one
year.

At the expiration of the year she was engaged
as dairy woman. It appears really wonderful
that any person should think of employing a 31
girl, but just entering her seventeenth year, in
this nice and delicate business. Yet so it was;
and the event proves that their judgment was
correct. Elleanor continued in this situation
eight years. She took charge of the milk of
from twenty-five to thirty cows; and made from
four to five thousand weight of cheese annually.
Every year our heroine’s cheese was distinguished
by a premium.

We acknowledge to the sentimentalist that
these matters are not very poetical; but to the
lover of truth, they are important, as giving a
distinct idea of the capacity, which early distinguished
our subject.

About the period of her nineteenth year, Elleanor
became quite a belle; and her light foot
in the dance, and her sweet voice in the song,
made her an object of great interest among the
colored swains. Sad indeed was the havoc
which the sweet singing, and the more exciting
movements of the dance, wrought among their
too susceptible hearts!

Whether Elleanor, herself, ever yielded to
the witching influence of the tender passion,
remains in the Book of Mysteries to this day.
Sometimes, with a low, quick breath—I could 32
almost imagine it a sigh—she would say, “There
was a young man—I had a cousin—He sent a
great many letters—” but further our deponent
saith not. Not a syllable more could I ever extract
from her. I have asked her for the letters;
which, being her veritable biographer, I
had a right to do; but she always tells me they
are in a great box, with all the accumulated
weight of her household stuff resting upon them.
Now, dearest reader, if I can ever extract aught
further touching this delicate and pleasing subject,
I will not fail to make you acquainted with
it; or if I can, by any persuasion, get a peep at
any letters from the cousin afore-mentioned, I
hereby pledge myself that you too shall be advised
of their contents.

And now, as darkness is closing fast around
me, I beg leave to retire from your pleasant
company; and so I wish you a very good evening.

33

Chapter IV.

As was remarked in the preceding chapter,
Elleanor, at this period, was a belle. During
her residence at Capt. Greene’s, it seems that
her brother, Mr. George Eldridge, had been
chosen Governor of the colored election; and
was re-elected three successive years. As this
title was, in imitation of the whites, invested
with considerable dignity, it follows that Elleanor
stood among her people, in the very
highest niche of the aristocracy. She always
accompanied her brother to these festivals,
dressed in such style as became the sister of
His Excellency. On some of these occasions
she wore a lilac silk; on others a nice worked
cambric; then again a rich silk, of a delicate
sky blue color; and always with a proper garniture
of ribbons, ornaments, laces, &c.—I
trust I have acquitted myself, with all honorable
exactness, in regard to the dresses; seeing
it is important to the world that it should be
enlightened on this subject: and no fair reader3 34
of marvellous tales, I am confident, would
every forgive me, should I neglect to say in
what guise our heroine appeared abroad; for
such a course would be entirely without precedent;
and I feel no disposition to introduce
a new system. Although I speak of Elleanor
in this light, let no one think her story is fictitious;
she is none the less a heroine because it
is true.

At the period to which we now refer, Elleanor
was light-hearted, and free from shadow as
the fairest morning; with the sweet sensations
of a happy and benevolent nature quickening
within her bosom, like spirits of joy, that tinged
all she looked upon with the hues of their
own lights and gladness,

“But all that’s bright must fade, The fairest still the fleetest; All that’s sweet, is made But to be lost when sweetest.”

And so passed away the “dancing days” of
Elleanor; bright as the morning rainbow, and
like that, too, the presage of darkness and
storms.

No doubt, my fair readers are in a state of
highly wrought expectancy in regard to the 35
affair du coeur, of which I barely hinted in the
last chapter. Happy am I, to communicate the
pleasing intelligence, of new arrivals from that
quarter. To descend, at once, from the language
of metaphor, to that of plain, sober fact,
I rejoice to say that a portion of the correspondence,
above alluded to, together with certain
facts explanatory thereof, has been laid before
me; and, in all confidence, as if the reader were
my bosom friend, I hasten to fulfil the promise
tendered in the last chapter.

I must beg leave to premise, dear reader, that
you shall endeavor to be satisfied with the
knowledge of these facts, making no single
question concerning them; as I shall, in no
wise, feel myself bound to explain any thing in
regard to the circumstances by which I became
possessed of them.

The manuscripts came to me in much the
same order and connection, as that in which
the Editor of Sartor Resartus, found those
of the lamented sage and philosopher, Teufelsdroch,
when he found out the contents of the
Bag Capricornus; when milk bills, love ditties,
laundress’ bills, poetry, with torn and yellow
scrips of paper, containing all high and unimaginable 36
thoughts and reflections, came tumbling
in a heap together. There may be, in
deed, no further comparison between them:
and it may be hinted, even, that Elleanor’s documents
want the pith and marrow contained
in those of Teufelsdroch; but of this I am no
bound to speak, since my province is not criticism,
but narration.

Let us turn aside, then, for a short time, from
the straight-forward path of history, into the
pleasant regions of episode; where, as in a little
grotto apart from the high road, we may in
dulge in an hour of repose; turning, meanwhile,
to the simple story for amusement. Having
thus so comfortably established ourselves,
wichwith no evil-minded eaves-dropper to make us
afraid; bend now, dear reader, thy most earnest
and delicately adjusted ear; for I am going
to tell thee a secret.

Let us come directly to the subject matter in
point. Elleanor, when a buxom lassie of eighteen,
by some means or other, became acquainted
with a lad somewhat older than herself,
whom we shall designate as Christopher
G—, though whether this was the whole, or
any part of his real name, or one chosen as a 37
screen, behind which to conceal the blushes of
the sensitive Elleanor, is a subject upon which
I have no liberty to speak. So this also may
be passed over to the budget of mysteries.—
Let us, dear reader, remember the punishment
of idle curiosity, as taught in the true and
affecting history, yeclept Blue Beard; and,
striving to be content with the facts in the case,
seek not to lift the veil, which the sensibility of
true love, and feminine delicacy, have alike conspired
to draw.

This Christopher, I have found by a course
of induction, the process of which has nothing
to do with this story, to be the same true and
veritable person, of whom Elleanor speaks so
plaintively, and so pithily, when she said: “I
had a cousin.” How much is told in those
four little words. They are, of themselves, a
history. They contain all the regular parts of
a true epic; viz: beginning, middle, and end;
together with outlines, circumstances, and decorations.
We need only shut our eyes; and
to, as if the lamp of Aladelin were lighted in
our presence, all the mysteries stand unveiled
before us, in their true order and connection.
But as every one of my readers may not be 38
gifted, in the highest degree, with the organs
of ideality and “language”, I make no doubt
they will prefer a translation to the original,
especially as I am enabled to enrich that translation,
with numerous notes, coming from a notto-be-doubted
source.

Certain it is that the youthful cousins, even
in the very first interview, began to suspect, (or
might have began to suspect, were not love
blind, so that frequently he does not know his
own image,) that there are dearer ties than
those of consanguinity.

There was the due proportion of fear, hope,
doubt, ecstacy, and moonlight; together with
the proper infusion of sighs, tears, &c., “for all
such cases made and provided,” until, at length,
the important and accustomed tender, was
made, listened to—and—accepted. Thus far,
all was well. There was the light of hope in
the eye of Elleanor, and her footstep had the
grace and buoyancy of joy.

Often did the lovers meet, (I feel myself
justified in calling them so, since I find all the
features of a most undoubted case,) and in
the stillness of those beautiful solitudes,
which surrounded them, they breathed their 39
vows; unlooked upon, save by the kind moon,
and the gentle stars; which, I believe all will
agree, are far the best witnesses on such occasions.
In the silent grove, and by the solemn
sea, they wandered for hours together, creating
to themselves a world of fairy-like beauty, which
the confidence of loving hearts, warmed and
kindled into truth.

“All lovely things grew lovelier. The flowers Bloomed with more vivid brightness, and the grass Caught a more pleasant greenness, than of yore. The winds that bowed the forest, or breathed low, With a sweet voice of sadness to the flowers, Still spoke to their affections; while the moon Grew kindlier, and came nearer to the heart, Like the familiar presence of a friend. The waters and the birds sang, aye, of love; Or seemed to chant the story of their loves, While all the stars had feeling in their light, Like the expressive eyes of sympathy. Even in the holy silence of the wood, When not a wind was breathing, a low voice Came with a blessing to their conscious hearts; For the sweet presence of undoubting Love, Spake to the soul, and these was audible.”

And were they poor? No. They had found
that which the wealth of kings could not purchase
—“the pearl of great price”—the gem 40
of Love—and it was safely treasured in the
casket of faithful and all-believing hearts.

Then came the first parting, with the mutually
reiterated vows of everlasting truth and remembrance;
and the succeeding night of
wakefulness and tears. But the shadow of absence
had scarcely glanced over the fair heaven
of Elleanor, when a sunbeam of a letter
came: and all was bright again. The letter
was as follows

“From Christopher G. to his Cousin. Newport, 1805-03-27March 27, 1805. My dearest Cousin: I have thought of you, almost with one
thought, since I left. How strange it is that
whenever I look I see nothing but my dear Ellen.
I am well; but my heart is heavy; for I
miss the dear eye that always looked on me
in kindness; and I don’t like to think there
may be many weeks before I see you again.—
When in Warwick I thought one week was a
great while; but now I must learn to bear the
pain of absence. I have lately been to the
white Election; and I was astonished and disgusted
with the behaviour I saw among the 41
whites. I think the white people ought to be
very careful what they do, and try to set good
examples for us to follow; for whatever they
do, whether good or bad, the colored people are
sure to imitate them. I am glad that you, my
dear cousin, do not, like some of your companions,
attempt to follow all the extravagant fashions
of the white people. If we are ever to
rise above our present condition, fine clothes
will not enable us to do it. My mind remains the same that it was the
last time I talked with you; so this is hoping
you are well and happy. From your affectionate cousin, and true lover. Christopher G―.”

This letter was “little; but ’twas all she
wished;” and it passed directly from the heart
to the memory; and there it is treasured, even
to this day.

Next came the blissful first reunion of loving
hearts, with the halcyon wing of Hope
shedding the brightness of its plumage over
them.

There are many things fondly cherished in
the history of love; but the first parting, and 42
the first reunion, are embalmed with the holiest
tears of memory and hope: and their greenness
is kept forever.

But we must not dwell too long amid these
tender scenes, which, indeed, exert a kind of
witchery over the heart, making it fain to linger.

Chapter V.

Now must we return again to the high way;
and so most courteous reader, if you are rested
from the toils which I have hitherto called
you to endure, let us leave this pleasant subject
for a while, for one of minor interest, if
not of like importance.

At the age of nineteen, Elleanor was again
called to mourn over the departure of another
kind parent. She lost her father; and a sad
loss it was to her; for Robin Eldridge had the
art, which many white fathers have not, that of
commanding, at once, respect and affection.

43

As the deceased had left property, letters of
administration were taken out; but it was soon
found that the estate could not be settled, without
some legal advices from a daughter, then
residing in the north-western part of Massachusetts.
In this crisis, what was to be done?
The delays and difficulties attending a communication
by mail, were of themselves sufficiently
objectionable; and to hire a person to go
there, would be a greater expense than the little
estate would justify. At this point Elleanor
came forward and offered her services, which
were gladly accepted.

With a spirit worthy one of the nation of Miantonomies,
she set off, on foot and alone, to
make a journey of 180 miles. It may be asked
where, at this period was the gallant Christopher?

Months had passed on, with variety of interest
or feeling, until at length Christopher, like
his immortal name-sake, went forth to try his
fortune on the great deep. The farewell, “a
word which hath been and must be,” was
breathed, and listened to, with a feeling of sorrow
they had not hitherto dreamed of: and the
parting scene was over. Perhaps it was the 44
peculiar state of mind and feeling, induced by
this event, which tempted Elleanor to try the
excitement of new scenes. It is certain that
all her familiar haunts wore an aspect of strange
loneliness; and the gladliest things, even those
which were wont to give her the greatest pleasure,
grew sad and melancholy.

Elleanor had obtained leave of her kind mistress
to be absent for a short time, and she returned
home to make arrangements for her departure.
The evening before she set off on her
journey, Elleanor had completed all her preparations;
and, with her sister, was sitting over
a good fire; for the chilly evenings of September
had begun; talking over the probable
adventures of her pilgrimage, and the event of
the business which was its occasion; receiving
also kind messages from the friends she left, for
those whom she expected to see, when her brother
entered. Was there something peculiar in
his appearance? Was there any thing marked
or uncommon in his manner, that Elleanor trembled
and turned pale? Or was it by the mysterious
intuition of love, that she felt the approach of
one of its revalutionsrevelations; with a kind of electric
sensibility, as steel is troubled at the coming 45
tempest, before a cloud can be discerned by
the physical eye? I will not venture to account
for the reason. With the fact only have I to
do. Certain it is that Elleanor suddenly broke
off the sentence she was speaking; and was
seized with an inexplicable fit of trembling;—
which in no wise abated, when her brother, as
if with preconcerted moderation, put his hand
in his pocket; and said, with an expression of
unconcern, “Here—is—a—letter—from—”

“From Christopher?” said his sister Fettina;
pronouncing the name that hovered inaudibly
on the lips of Elleanor.

“I believe so;” said he, producing a folded
paper. “Here, Ellen, I suppose this belongs
to you.”

She took the letter; and here, even as if we
were privileged to look over her shoulder, let
us read it.

“East Greenwich, 1805-08-27August 27, 1805. My dearest Ellen—I cannot go away without
improving the present opportunity of saying a
few words more to you. I have got a
voyage from Providence, where I expect to go
in a few days. I hope you will not tremble for 46
me, and be unhappy every time the wind blows;
for I shall then be far away from all the danger
that you can know any thing about. I am going
to the West Indies; and if I do my duty,
and have tolerable luck, I shall be in a way to
make something. Let us not think of troubles;
for thinking of them beforehand will never make
them lighter when they come. If God permit,
I shall return in the course of a few months;
and then we shall meet again, and be happy.—
It may be wrong, but it seems to me that I almost
feel a pleasure in this parting from you,
for had it not been, I should not have guessed
how dear I am to you. I am in good health;
and hope these few lines will find you enjoying
the same blessing. So, praying we shall meet
again, no more at present; and I remain your
best beloved, till death. Christopher G―.”

There are some adventitious circumstances
which minister so directly to the necessities of
the occasion, as almost brings a conviction that
they are providential. So Ellen, at this very
point of time, when she would soon have been
beyond its reach; in fact, in almost the only 47
hour whe shenwhen she could have done so, for some
months, received her cousin’s letter; and it
seemed, really, as if a special Providence smiled
upon her love: and with this pleasant tho’t
she fell into a sweet slumber; when the spirits
of Elysium came and ministered around her.

Before day-break our heroine was stirring.—
She dressed herself in a coarse and rather old
gown, and bonntebonnet, to correspond with her pedestrian
style of travelling; while she carefully
wrapped another, and better suit, in a bundle;
which the fair and romantic reader will remember,
a heroine never fails to take.

But Elleanor was more provident, and, withal,
more reasonable, than the fair Cherubina,
when disgusted with the happiness of her own
paternal home, she went in search of misfortunes;
for she took only a guinea, fearing very
justly, that if she had plenty of money she
could not so soon fall into those amiable and
irresistibeirresistible distresses, she so often met with
in the thrilling histories of romantic miseries, of
every sort and fashion, which were her favorite
reading; and which she never failed to weep
over, with all suitable demonstrations of sorrow.
Indeed she, like many others, put herself to 48
such expense of sympathy for these beings of
the imagination, that she had none to bestow
on real suffering. Pardon this digression,
dear reader. It was involuntary. I had began
to say that Elleanor, unlike the heroine
above alluded to, took the good substantial sum
of sixty dollars; which she carefully concealed
about her person, in case of sickness or accident.
But being afraid to appear to have money,
she solicited the kind charities of those among
whom she passed; and only now and then, paid
a few cents for a night’s lodging.

The last letter of Christopher, with the talismanic
charm of true love, went with her; and
often, when she paused to rest by the way-side,
she drew it forth; and dwelt with a sort of awe
upon its mystic characters; with which her
heart-quickened memory had associated all their
true meaning; and, at such periods, many a
thought, if thought could be visible, might have
been seen winging its way far to the south-east,
unchecked by the barriers of ocean.

Such was the dignity and general propriety
of her carriage and behaviour, that she went on
unmolested; accomplishing her journey safely 49
and honorably, as the Milesian nymph, of
whom Moore has sweetly sung.

“On she went; and her maiden smile In safety lighted her round the green Isle; And blessed forever is she who relied Upon Erin’s honor, and Erin’s pride.”

In the course of her journey she came one
night to an Inn, where she found them preparing
entertainment for a large company.—
They were short of help; and very gladly availed
themselves of our heroine’s services, who
entered into their arrangements, at once, with
her accustomed spirit and success; acquitting
herself of her duties in a very superior style.—
At this house she remained during the next day
and night; and when she left, her kind hostess
furnished her with such provisions as she could
carry.

At the end of five days Elleanor reached the
house of her aunt, her mother’s only sister, who
resided in Adams. She with her family, was
so much surprised to see Elleanor, she could
scarcely believe the evidence of her own senses.
But when they found that it was even so, all
were overjoyed. So they called in her sister, and
all her cousins, and killed, not “the fatted calf;” 4 50
but what is better, a good fat turkey; and the
happiness of that day was like the light of a
summer sun, when there was no cloud on the
thethe
face of heaven.

And here, dear reader, it is fitting Elleanor
should take a little rest, after her long and toilsome
journey. So, with your permission, we
will bid her adieu for the present.

51

Chapter VI.

Our heroine visited all her relations, of whom
there were many, all respectable, and well established
in the world; and finally, as the cold
weather had already commenced, she concluded
to stay until spring. She found some of her old
neighbors from Warwick there, who received
her among them very cordially. She could not
long remain idle; and she soon found plenty of
business. She engaged herself as a weaver in
the family of Mr. Brown; and subsequently, in
the same business, to that of Mr. Bennett; where
she remained till spring. This period was enlivened
by many balls and parties, at all of which
Elleanor took a conspicuous part. She, indeed,
made quite a sensation among the colored
beaux of Adams; but for reasons which my
reader knows, and they did not, their advances
met with such a cool return they durst not renew 52
the subject. Ah, dear reader! we may
see by this, that Elleanor, though a belle, was
no flirt. Great, indeed, was the wonder how
she could be so entirely indifferent to attention,
which the best among them were sighing for;
and all enquired the reason; and none could
give it: at least, none did give any thing like
the true reason, until an arrival from Warwick,
brought another letter from Christopher, which,
coming as it did all the way from the West Indies,
the good people there looked upon it with
much the same feelings with which we survey
what is called a “moon stone,”—as a direct
communication from another sphere. I said
they looked upon the letter, dear reader; but
not a single one of them looked into it, as we
shall do, except her cousin, and bosom confidant,
Ruth Jacobs. Here we have the letter.

“From Christopher to his cousin. St. Pierre, G’audaloupe, 1805-11-20Nov. 20, 1805. My own true love—Though I am now far—
very far away from you, and the raging sea is
now rolling between us; yet I think of you, if
possible, more than I did when at home. I am
in good health, which God grant may be the 53
happy case with you, and all the dear friends I
have left. I have met with various misfortunes
since I saw you. Once I have been pressed
into the English service, and once cast away.
But I have had the good fortune to escape from
both these troubles; and when we meet, I will
then speak more fully of these matters, than I
have time to do at present. I must hasten to
finish this, to send by our old neighbor, Mr.
—, who is just going to sail for Providence.
He will visit Warwick; and has promised to
give this to you with his own hand. I should
have been able to send you some present, if I
had not met with the misfortune above-mentioned.
I expect to go from this port in a few
days, to the island of―, where I intend to
change my employment; and, as I hope, for the
better. I advise you to keep up good spirits;
for every thing that has passed from me to you,
in the way of words, I consider sacred: and, if
it please God that I return, all shall be fulfilled.
You may expect to hear from me again soon;
and in the mean time I rest— Your loving and true— Christopher G―.” 54

This letter was the gossip’s wonder for the
month to come. Wonders live more than nine
days, amid the abundant nutriment and healthy
air of the country; and it was the secret joy
and pride of Elleanor, long, long after.

In the spring, having procured legally executed
letters from her sister, investing her with
the power of attorney to receive all goods, chattels,
and monies, in her name, our heroine took
leave of her kind employers and entertainers,
and left Adams. She had the good fortune to
get passage with Mr. Bennett as far as Northampton,
whither he was going to market.

Finally, she reached home in health and
safety; and, having accomplished the object of
her errand, the estate was soon satisfactorily
settled.

Elleanor returned to her service at Capt.
Greene’s.

No tidings of Christopher, since the letter
received at Adam’s, had been received for
months; and it is not strange that sundry
doubts, misgivings, and fears, of a very tender
and interesting nature, occasionally weighed
down the hitherto light heart of Ellen, with unwonted
heaviness. However, no private feelings 55
of her own, lessened her attention to her
several duties. It seemed, indeed, as if she
sought to engross herself more completely than
ever, with the bustle of business; for Ellen,
though she knew it not, was a practical philosopher
—at least, experience taught her one
truth—that “the best remedy for sorrow is
occupation”.

Weeks had rolled on since her return, and
June had come, with its leafy bowers and its
woodland music. On a pleasant evening, in
that sweetest of all seasons, Elleanor, having
finished the business of the day, walked out on
a green, ostensibly to look at some pieces of
cloth which were spread there to bleach; but
really to indulge the feelings, which were so
equally ballanced by joy and sorrow, that she
could not have told whether she were most sad,
or happy. The peaceful hour of twilight came
on, when the heart instinctively gathers up its
memories, and withdrawing the curtain of the
past, snatches, as it were, some dying flower
from the cold altar of Oblivion. The spirit of
the hour was tenderness. From tenanted bough
and peopled hive, came the low sweet murmur
of bird and insect; while the soft bleating of 56
flocks, and the low of kine went up at intervals
from fold and pasture. Even the grasshopper’s
note had lost its sharpness; and it went trilling
along though his green fastnesses, as if a thousand
spirits were touching the fibres of the
grass, and drawing forth its hidden music.—
Then there were momentary pauses of such
deep and exquisite stillness, that the falling of
the dew was almost audible, as it went forth on
its ministry of love, to kiss the drooping flower,
and invigorate the thirsty leaf.

Elleanor stood before the goodly pieces of
linen, which were spun and woven by her own
hand, and might have done honor to her art;
but the vivid contrast of the whitened fabric,
upon the beautiful ground of green, had no effect
upon her eye; for she saw it not. She
was wandering far away on the wing of thought,
over isle and billow; and from that peaceful
scene her spirit had flown away, and hung hovering
over the tempestuous sea. Her heart had
begun to feel that sickness, that cometh from
“hope deferred.” For long months she had
heard nothing of her cousin; and now, when
there were none to know, or to mock her feelings,
is it strange that yielding to the softness 57
of the scene, she could not check the burst of
tenderness that sprung unbidden in her heart.
She sat down upon a stone, and leaning her
head upon her hand, presently the pent up tears
burst from their confines, and she wept. With low
and scarcely articulated tones, she unconsciously
breathed the name that was dearest; and so
absorbed—so completely wrapt was she, that she
heard not an advancing step, and felt not conscious
of the presence of another, until a low
sigh responded to her own; and certain well
remembered tones modulated to the syllables of
her own name arrested her attention—

“Ellen!”

She looked up. It was no illusion. As if
the very magic of her thought had drawn him
there, her cousin Christopher was standing before
her. “Ellen!” he repeated.

“Christopher!” was the low and deep response.

And here, dear reader the curtain drops;—
since it is not meet that the sacred scene should
be witnessed by the cold eye of a stranger.

Chapter VII.

We come now suddenly to a gap of several
years in the data of our manuscripts; though,
without a doubt, there is none on the transcript
kept by the memory of Ellen. There might
be read, if the scroll could come before the eye,
the record of many sad partings, and many glad
returns; each, and all, giving an additional fibre,
to the bonds of love, which like a vine,
had clung from heart to heart, growing and
strengthening while it united them.

We come now to the last letter which we are
permitted to see.

“From Christopher to his cousin. Archangel, 1811-06-30June 30, 1811. Dear Ellen— I am very sorry I could not write to you
before, on account of being pressed on board
of a Man of War. I have suffered many 59
things; yet my chief trouble was the fear that
I might never return to my dear Ellen, and be
permitted to realise all those sweet hopes, and
earnest promises, I have so often indulged in.
I have been to Dublin, and I expect to sail for
England in the course of a month; and then I
shall return home as quick as possible. My
health is very good—thanks to God for it!—and
may this find you, as well as it leaves me. You
must not be uneasy about me, as I hope the
time will not be long before I see you again.—
Give my love to my cousins, and all enquiring
friends. So no more at present, from your ever
loving and affectionate Christopher G―.”

This Letter wrought its good work upon the
half-desponding Elleanor. She went cheerfully
again about her duties, while she kept all
these pleasant sayings hid from those about her,
secretly cherishing and pondering them in her
heart.

Again was she happy in the blissful presence
of him she loved; but her happiness was chastened
by the anxieties which had stolen in, like
shadows, upon the sun-light of her affections. 60
In remembering the solicitudes of the past, she
drew a picture of the future; and involuntarily
looked forward to another course of doubts and
fears, which ever beset those who have friends
upon the deep.

After a series of pleasant visits, which enlivened
the period of Christopher’s stay, he attended
her to the Newport Election, where the
gaieties of the present scene, could not illumine
the coming sorrow, which already had cast
its shadow before her: and she really felt it a
relief to return home, where they arrived late
on Saturday evening.

Little sleep had poor Elleanor that night; for
the morrow was to be the day of parting: and
she rose unrefreshed from her pillow. At an
early hour her gallant was in attendance; and
the day passed away in pleasant, but rather constrained
conversation, with the family, and some
cousins, who had assembled themselves on the
occasion.

But in the evening, at an early hour, Christopher
and Elleanor found themselves beneath
the very oak, which had been hitherto the scene
of every parting. Twilight passed into evening.
The moon rose, and the stars came forth; 61
yet still he lingered. The sorrowful thought of
separation was too strong—too deep for words;
but each looked upon the face of the other with
that earnest and solemn meaning, which tells of
the heart’s acutest anguish. Never had the
thought of parting been so bitter. Again and
again did he attempt to go; until, at length,
with desperate energy, he wrung her hand; and
turning away quickly, as if he would not trust
himself with another look, he was gone in a moment.
Elleanor sat down with a heaviness of
heart she had never before known; but tears
came not to her relief.

But we must not dwell on this interesting
episode. That “The course of true love never
did run smooth”—has become a truism almost;
and in the case of Elleanor, certainly it proved
true.

There was a long period of alternating hopes,
doubts, and distressing fears. Then came the
heart-rending intelligence, of shipwreck, and
death.

But the image of her first, and only love, was
shrined within the faithful heart of Elleanor.—
In her loneliness she cherished it; and in solitude
poured out her tears upon its consecrated
altar.

62

Elleanor remained at Capt. Greene’s until
18121812, being then twenty-seven years old. At
this time the death of Capt. G. occasioned alterations
in the family; so our heroine returned
home to live with her older sister Lettise, who
had been appointed by the Court of Probate, as
guardian to the younger children; and filled a
mother’s place in the care of the whole family.

Elleanor now, with her sister, entered into a
miscellaneous business, of weaving, spinning,
going out as nurse, washer, &c.—in all of
which departments she gave entire satisfaction:
and in no single instance, I believe, has failed
to make her employers friends. She also, with
her sister, entered considerably into the soap
boiling business. Of this article they every
year made large quantities, which they brought
to the Providence market, together with such
other articles as they wished to dispose of, or as
were, with suitable commissions, supplied by
their neighbors. By this time the earnings of
Elleanor had amounted to a sum sufficient to
purchase a lot and build a small house, which
she rented for forty dollars a year.

During the time of her residence with her
sister, being at work at Mr. Gordon Adnold’s, 63
she received the afflicting intelligence of the
sudden death of one of her brother’s children,
and the extremely dangerous illness of another.

When she arrived at his house, she found
that two children were already dead,—and a
third lay apparently at the point of death; and
indeed only lived till the next morning. A fourth
child was seized with the same symptoms; but,
after lingering for three weeks, recovered.—
Thus three children were taken from the midst
of health; and all in the space of forty-eight
hours. It was supposed that they had eaten
some poisonous substance, which they had found
in a swamp where they often went, and had
mistaken for birch. It was indeed a most distressed
family; and Elleanor found it difficult
to sustain them under their severe losses.

She remained with her sister three years;—
and was then induced by another sister, who
resided here, to come to Providence; where
she soon arrived and commenced a new
course of business, viz—white-washing, a papering,
and painting; which she had followed for
more than twenty years, to the entire satisfaction
of her numerous employers.

The above occupations she generally followed 64
nine or ten months in the year; but commonly,
during the most severe cold of winter, she
engaged herself for high wages, in some private
family, hotel, or boarding house. Two of
these winters she worked at Mr. Jackson’s;―
and the two following at Governor Taft’s; and
it is worthy of remark, and alike creditable to
herself, and her employers, that Elleanor has
always lived with good people.

The next winter after this she went to New
York, and worked for Miss Jane C―. She
liked very much; and the succeeding winter
also found her in New York. But at this time
she had the misfortune to catch a severe cold,
occasioned by the damps of the basement
kitchen, which threw her into a malignant fever,
of the typhus kind. The kind Miss C―
treated her with the most generous and affectionate
attention; indeed, as if she had been
one of her own family. She had an excellent
nurse provided, and two of the most skilful
physicians the city afforded; with every delicacy
that gives comfort to the chamber of the
sick.

After remaining for some time in a state of
the most imminent danger, the strength of a 65
vigorous constitution shook off the disease; and
she began slowly to recover.

On the first of April she took leave of the
benevolent Miss C—, and returned to Providence;
when that lady, with a generosity almost
unparalleled in this selfish world, after
discharging all expenses, together with the
nurse’s and physicians’ bills, paid her the
full amount of her wages for the whole
time, as if she had always been in actual service.

It is always delightful to record, and to dwell
upon, an instance of real generosity; and the
single example of this excellent lady is worth
folios of theory on this subject; for it comes
home to the heart with the sweetest teachings
of that charity, which is the very essence of the
christian character; and without which, indeed,
to use the beautiful language of Paul:—
“Though I speak as with the tongue of men, and
of angels, I am become as sounding brass or a
tinkling cymbal. And though I had the gift of
prophecy, and understood all mysteries, and all
knowledge; and though I have all faith so that
I could remove mountains, and have not charity.
I am nothing.”

5 66

Pleasant as the perfume distilled from roses,
and indestructible as the purest gold, will be the
memory of Jane C―; for it shall be written
in the bosoms of many, and inscribed in burnished
characters on the brightening tablet of
Humanity. The very existence of disinterested
benevolence has been made a doubt; but,
with such instances in view, human nature
feels itself exalted, and begins to learn its own
divinity. Statues of brass shall perish and be
forgotten; but the principles of goodness shall
be caught from heart to heart, through countless
generations; still living, and still blessing,
age after age, undying as their Eternal Source

From the time when she was taken such, it
was three months before Elleanor could recommence
her business. On her return to Providence
she went to Miss C—’s father’s, where
she remained a week, being treated with the
kindest attention. She then went to Warwick,
where she staid until her health was so far reestablished
as to admit of her commencing
work; when she returned to Providence and
resumed her accustomed routine of business.

Notwithstanding the great kindness of Miss
C—, Elleanor refused to go out to New 67
York to live with her the succeeding winter;
for she was afraid of being again sick, and subjecting
her kind mistress to a new succession
of troubles. The next winter, accordingly, she
staid in town; and worked at Mr. Mathewson’s
for two dollars a week. At this place Elleanor
was so well contented, that she lived there the
succeeding winter. Then she went to Mr.
Davis Dyer’s, a small and very pleasant family.
And here, dear reader, let us wait for the beginning
of the next chapter.

68

Chapter VIII.

I should have mentioned before, that about
sixteen years ago, Elleanor, having six hundred
dollars on hand, bought a lot, for which she
paid one hundred dollars, all in silver money,
as she has herself assured me. She then commenced
building a house, which cost seventeen
hundred dollars. This house was all paid for,
with no encumbrance whatever. After it had
been built three or four years; she built an addition
on the east side, to live in herself; and
subsequently one on the west side, to accommodate
an additional tenant. This house rented
for one hundred and fifty dollars per annum.—
About this time there were two lots of land for
sale, of which Elleanor wished to become the
purchaser. Not having money enough she
hired of a gentleman of Warwick, two hundred
and forty dollars. For this she was to pay interest
at the rate of ten per cent; and, by agreement, 69
so long as she could do so, she might be
entitled to keep the money; i.e. she was to pay
the interest, and renew the note annually.

Elleanor had completed her house, which
with its two wings, and its four chimneys, wore
quite an imposing aspect; and in the honest
pride and joy of her heart, she looked upon it
with delight; as well she might do, since it
was all earned by her own honest labors, and
afforded the prospect of a happy home, and a
comfortable income in her old age. Attached
to this house, and belonging to a Mrs.― was
a gangway which Elleanor wished very much
to obtain possession of, as she was entirely cut
off from out door privileges, without it. She
had hired it for five years; and had often
spoken to Mrs.― in regard to the purchase.
But what was her surprise to find, that just before
the term of her lease had expired, Mrs.
― had sold it. Mr. C― then, who owned
the house and premises adjoining her own,
came directly forward and offered to sell to
Elleanor, and as she felt very anxious to secure
the privilege of the gang-way, she finally determined
to do so; although, by doing so, she was
obliged to involve herself considerably. This 70
house had been built by Mr. C―—, who, being
unable to pay for it, had given a mortgage of
the premises. At this time Elleanor had five
hundred dollars in her possession, which she
had been wishing to dispose of to the best advantage.
She finally came to a bargain with
Mr. C―, agreeing to give two thousand dollars
for the house. She paid the five hundred
dollars down; and then gave a mortgage on
the house to Mr. Greenold, for fifteen hundred
dollars. This was to be paid in four years;
which, if she had received the least indulgence,
she might easily have done; or rather if she
had not, in her own honesty of heart, been led
to confide in the promise of one, who had more
regard for his purse, than for his honor, or
his Christian character, as we shall soon
see.

In 1831-09September, 1831, Elleanor was again
seized with the typhus fever, which left her in
so low a state of health, that her friends and
herself, feared she was falling into a decline.
With a strong impression of this feeling upon her
mind, she wished much to see her friends in
Massachusetts again; and finally she persuaded
her brother to accompany her on a journey
thither.

71

She went out to Warwick, and remained
there six weeks, until she believed she had regained
her health, so far as to undertake the
journey; when she returned to Providence, and,
with her brother George, made arrangements
for her departure. Accordingly, in October,
Elleanor having left all her affairs in a good
train, with her brother, sat off for Adams.

For the first day she seemed somewhat invigorated
with the ride, and the change of air
and scene; but the unusual fatigue on the
second and third days, quite overcame her.

They stopped for the night at Angell’s tavern,
in Hadley, where Elleanor found herself very
ill. In the morning, her brother, finding she
did not rise, tapped on her chamber door, and
asked her if she felt well enough to pursue her
journey. She replied that she was sick, and
could not go any further that day. Her brother
went to the land-lady, and requested permission
to remain through the day, as his sister was too
ill to proceed. From this circumstance—this
trifling fact—sprang all the subsequent troubles
of Elleanor. It so happened that there were
two persons from Providence, within the hearing
of George Eldridge, when he made the above 72
named request; and as they had some knowledge
of his sister, they made their report, when
they returned to Providence. This, she being
very sick, like a gathering snow-ball, grew as it
went the rounds of gossip, into exceedingly dangerous
illness—the point of death; and finally,
by the simple process of accumulation, it was
resolved into death itself. Who could have foreseen
results so disastrous as those which followed,
could have been occasioned by such a
trifle. The reader will subsequently find, how
all Elleanor’s troubles sprang from the wanton
carelessness of those, who so busily circulated
the story of her death. “What mighty oaks from little acorns grow.”
and, what a lesson of caution should be drawn
from this simple fact, and its consequences.—
How careful ought we to be to speak nothing
but the truth, even in regard to the most trifling
circumstances; and not only so, but to be well
assured that what we suppose to be true, is
truth, before we receive it as such.

73

Chapter IX.

After resting a day Elleanor was able to continue
her journey; and she arrived at its end
without accident, or further difficulty, though
considerably fatigued.

She found her friends all well, and delighted
to see her once more. It soon came to pass
that the eye of George Eldridge, rested with a
very pointed expression of kindness on his cousin,
Miss Ruth Jacobs, whom we have before
had occasion to notice, as being the confidential
friend of Elleanor. George Eldridge had
been unhappy in a former matrimonial connection;
and this circumstance heightened the interest
which his sister felt in this second affair.
Being anxious to promote it to the utmost, she
yielded to his wishes, and consented to remain
in Adams through the winter. Her brother
soon found business at wood-cutting; and found
also, what was better, that the gentle eye of his 74
cousin Ruth, could, by no means, look coldly upon
him. This last, indeed, soon became no secret.
The proposals were duly made, and frankly accepted;
so the winter passed away, cheerily and
happily, Elleanor spending the time among her
numerous relations.

But when spring came, Elleanor’s thoughts
began to turn homeward. Her brother, however,
shewed himself in no haste to quit the
pleasant orbit of the amiable Ruth. But having
been invited by Elleznor to accompany her
home, Ruth determined to make a visit to R.
Island; so, as they took the magnet along with
them, there was no further difficulty. George
Eldridge, with no inconsiderable degree of pride,
seated himself between his sister and cousin
Ruth, and turned towards home. Their journey
thither was cheered by fine weather and
pleasant chat; and all were happy; for the Janus,
Fortune, had not shown her evil face to Elleanor.

On the evening of the third day they arrived
at Elleanor’s house, in Providence; and, after
having laid off her travelling dress, our heroine
prepared for supper.

It was just at dusk when she ran across the 75
street for bread. She stepped in at the door,
as usual, and asked for bread. But the baker’s
boy, instead of supplying her, ran back into the
entry, with an appearance of great alarm; and,
having stood gazing at her a moment, with his
arms extended in a horizontal line, and mouth
and eyes laid open to their full extent, with the
most querulous and misgiving tones, he called
out: “Is that you Ellen?—Why I thought you
was—dead!”

“No; I am not dead,” replied Elleanor, “but
I am hungry. Give me some bread, quick!”—
and, supposing the boy was trying to hoax her,
she stepped forward as she spoke.

The boy still retreated, and still holding out
his hands, as if to ward off danger, he cried
out: “Don’t come any nearer!—don’t Ellen, if
you be Ellen—cause—cause—I don’t like dead
folks!”

It was some time before Elleanor could assure
the poor little fellow of her real, bona fide
bodily presence, so strongly was he impressed
with the belief that she was actually departed.
Her appearance too, coming in as she did, unannounced,
at the dim, uncertain hour of twilight,
must have had, to his excited imagination, 76
something really terrible in it. Had the
boy reflected a moment, he would have seen
that it was out of all rule, and entirely without
precedent, for a ghost to cry for bread; but
Jamie, like many of his species, was no philosopher.

This was the first that Elleanor knew of the
story of her death; though she heard of it repeatedly
during the evening, and the next morning.
Her brother heard also at the hotel, where
he went to put up his horse, that his sister’s
property had been attached, and was advertised
to be sold, in consequence of a report concerning
her death; but he did not mention it to Elleanor
that evening, knowing her to be very
much fatigued; and, as he expected to take her
directly out to Warwick the next day, it seemed
unnecessary; for then, and not till then, would
she be able to see the gentleman; and, as he
hoped, make some arrangements with him.—
However, the time was not long before she heard
of it; and, of course, she felt very disagreeably.

Two of their cousins, Jeremiah and Lucy
Prophet, went out to Warwick with them; and
they had anticipated a joyful occasion, on the
arrival, and introduction, of the bride-elect; 77
but poor Ellen’s trouble cast a damp upon the
whole party.

As soon as the news of their arrival had gone
about, the gentleman who had laid on attachment
on Ellen’s property, in order to procure
the liquidation of the two hundred and forty
dollar note before alluded to, came directly to
see her; and that too altogether of his own accord.
This gentleman was not the original
creditor; who had deceased, leaving his brother
as his sole heir.

The gentleman told Ellen what he had done;
at the same time saying, that he should never
have done it, had he not been told that she was
dead. “But;” said he, “I am glad you have
returned, safe and well; and though I want the
money, I will never distress you for it.”

Ellen had the simplicity to believe this, because
the man—perhaps I ought to say gentleman
—was a member of a church; and was
called a christian. Poor, simple-hearted, honest
Ellen: she did not know then that she had
met “the wolf in sheep’s clothing!”

The above promise was given at the house
of George Eldridge, in the presence of him,
Ruth Jacobs, Jeremiah, and Lucy Prophet.— 78
After Mr.― had gone, these all spoke of his
promise one to another, bidding Ellen be of
good courage, as she could now have nothing to
fear. They, also, it seems, were so very simple
as to understand the gentleman’s words as
a promise, though probably he intended them
as only an expression of courtesy.

I remember an anecdote, which though simple,
is “a case in point.” A gentleman who
had removed to the country, had for his neighbor
a Frenchman, who had the national characteristic
of exceeding politeness. The gentleman
kept no horse; and, as he took frequent
walks about the country, his polite neighbor always
remonstrated with him, in strong terms,
begging that he would make him so very happy,
as to use his horse—always. This offer was
so often repeated, that, at length, the gentleman
determined he would avail himself of his neighbor’s
generosity; so one day he told him he
should be very glad to have the loan of his
horse, for a short ride.

“By no means;” replied the Frenchman.—
“I have but von horse; an’ him I vant—”

“But you have repeatedly offered him to me.”

“Ah! my dear neighbor,” replied the Frenchman, 79
with a very significant and sweet smile,
“you’s be most welcome to de complimen.”

How much of that which assumes to be kindness,
could it be reduced to its true analysis,
would be found simply “a welcome to the
compliment.”

80

Chapter X.

Elleanor had given Mr. ― a conditional
promise that she would raise a hundred dollars
for him in April; but it so happened that she
could not procure the money; and, relying on
his promise of indulgence, which his his honor
as a gentleman, and his christian character,
alike conspired to strengthen; while, at the
same time, his great wealth, or entire independence,
placed him altogether above any temptation
to uncharitableness.

In about a week she returned to Providence,
satisfied that, in the withdrawal of his suit,
Mr. ― had fairly “buried the hatchet,” she
commenced her summer’s work with renewed
vigor. This was the cholera season, which
brought so much of terror with it, as to be long
remembered. Ellen’s usual business was somewhat
modified by the prevailing sickness; and
being a skilful and fearless person, she went 81
much among the sick; and by her zealous attentions
to the wants of the suffering, she won
the kindest regard of all who were so fortunate
as to obtain her valuable services.

In August Mrs. T―, having a daughter
who was pronounced to be either afflicted with,
or liable to, the cholera, left town for her country
residence, in Pomfret, Connecticut. She
engaged Elleanor to accompany her in the capacity
of nurse and attendant.

In order to make all secure before leaving
town, Ellen paid up all that was due on the
mortgage: but she did not pay Mr. ― because
she could not do so without great loss,
and difficulty; and concerning this she felt no
uneasiness, because there had been an express
understanding between herself and the deceased
Mr. ―, that she should have the money so
long as she could pay the interest of ten per
cent on the note: and besides her well-known
character for integrity and industry, seemed to
secure the promise of indulgence, which had
been voluntarily given.

Ellen’s last step was to go round among her
families, and request them to be careful and
prudent in all things, making no disturbance, 6 82
and committing no trespass; and she assured
them that if she heard any complaint from her
neighbors, she should turn out the offenders, as
soon as she returned.

Intent only upon her new duties, Elleanor
then entered zealously into the service of Mrs.
T.; and with that lady, and her family, left
town for Pomfret, a distance of only thirty miles.
The sickness of Mrs. T. and that of her family,
rendered our heroine’s activity and skill of peculiar
value.

In about two months, the family of Mrs. T.
having recovered, and the cholera panic having
somewhat subsided, that lady determined to return
to Providence. On arriving in the city,
she stopped at the Franklin House, still retaining
Ellen in attendance. The next morning
after their arrival, a lady came in and told Mrs.
T.—that the property of Elleanor was all attached,
and sold; and to the latter, the sad intelligence
was speedily announced; but she
found it very difficult to believe a story, at once,
so entirely opposed to all her convictions of
right, and so fraught with distress and anguish
to herself; yet, upon enquiry, she found that
one half the truth had not been told.

83

Mr.―, of Warwick, had attached and
sold property, which a few months before had
been valued at four thousand dollars, for the
pitiful sum of two hundred and forty dollars.—
Why he wished to attach so large a property,
for so small a debt, is surprising enough; since
Elleanor had then in her possession two house
lots, and the little house and lot at Warwick;
either of which would have been sufficientsufficient to
liquidate the debt. There seems to be a spirit
of wilful malignity, in this wanton destruction
of property, which it is difficult to conceive of
as existing in the bosom of civilized man.

One after another, all the aggravating particulars
came to the knowledge and notice of Ellen.
In the first place, the attachment, as we
have before said, was entirely disproportioned
to the debt; which the general good character,
integrity, and property of the debtor, rendered
perfectly secure. In the second place, the
sheriff never legally advertised the sale, or advertised
it all, as can be learned. In the third
place, the auctioneer, having, doubtless, ascertained
the comfortable fact, that the owner was
a laboring colored woman, who was then away,
leaving no friend to protect her rights, struck it 84
off, almost at the first bid; and at little more
than one third its value; it being sold for only
fifteen hundred dollars, which was the exact amount
of the mortgage. In the fourth place,
the purchaser, after seeing the wrongfulness of
the whole affair, and after giving his word three
successive times, that he would settle and restore
the property for a given sum, twice meanly
flew from his bargain, successively making
larger demands. “Is not this a heinous crime;
yea, an iniquity to be punished by the judges;”
yet the chief actors in this affair, were all good
and “honorable men!” They shall learn that
“He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with
silver; nor he that loveth abundance, with increase.”
Open note q032-rota Ecclesiastes, v. 10. They shall find that, “As a partridge
sitteth on eggs, and hatcheth them not, so he
that getteth riches, and not by right, shall
leave them in the midst of his days:”Open note q033-rota Jeremiah, xvii. 11, and
“Men shall clap their hands at him, and hiss
him out of his place.”Open note q034-rota Job, xxvii. 23.

85

Chapter XII.

Thus as we have seen, was Ellen, in a single
moment, by a single stroke of the hammer,
deprived of the fruits of all her honest and severe
labors—the labors of years; and, not only
so, but actually thrown in debt for many small
bills, for repairs and alterations on her houses,
which she had the honor and honesty to discharge,
even against the advices of some of her
friends, after the property by which they had
been incurred had been so cruelly taken away.
Elleanor had traits of character, which, if she
were a white woman, would be called noble.
And must color so modify character, that they
are not still so?

On visiting the premises, sad, indeed was the
sight which the late owner witnessed. The two
wings of her first house, which she had herself
built, with their chimneys, had been pulled
down: and it seemed as if the spirit of Ruin 86
had been walking abroad. All her families had
been compelled to leave, at a single week’s notice;
and many of them, being unable to procure
tenements, were compelled to find shelter
in barns and out-houses, or even in the woods.
But they were colored people—So thought
he, who so unceremoniously ejected them from
their comfortable homes; and he is not only a
professor friend to their race, but “an honorable
man.”

Let us return to the point where we left
our story, and our heroine, at the Franklin
House. Mrs. T. kindly furnished Ellen with
her horse and chaise and advised her to go directly
to Warwick, to see the gentleman on
whose promise she had so confidently relied.

Mark his excuse. How noble—how manly
it was! He told Ellen he was very sorry for
what he had done; but that he never should
have done it, if the lawyer had not advised him
to. He must have been a man of stern principle
—of sterling independence, to perpetuate
such an act, because his lawyer advised him to.
I pity the man whose invention is so poor—so
miserable, that he could not fabricate a better
falsehood. “We unto them that decree unrighteous 87
decrees, and that write grievances
which they have prescribed, to turn aside the
needy from judgement and to take away
the right from the poor of my people, that
widows may be their prey, and they may rob
the fatherless. What will ye do in the day
of visitation, and in the desolation which shall
come from far? To whom will ye flee for help,
and where will ye leave your glory?”Open note q035-rota Isaiah, x. 1, 2, 3.

After a time, a ray of hope dawned on the
dark path of Ellen. She consulted Mr. Greene,
the State’s attorney, and found that she might
bring forward a case of Trespass and Ejectment,
against the purchaser of her property.
She had hope to repudiate the whole sale and
purchase, on the ground of the illegal or non-
advertisement of the sale. This case was
brought before the Court of Common Pleas, in
1837-01January, 1837.

Of course, the whole success of it turned on
the point of the sheriff’s oath, in regard to the
advertisement. When the oath was administered,
the sheriff appeared strangely agitated,
and many, then present in court, even the judge, 88
thought it was the perturbation of guilt. Nevertheless
he attested upon oath, that he had put
up the notification in three public places;—viz.
at Manchester’s tavern bar-room, on the Courthouse
door in time of Court, and on Market
square. There were three men who came prepared
to take their oath, that the notice was
never put up at Manchester’s; thus invalidating
that part of his testimony; but it was found
that the oaths of common men could not be
taken against that of the High Sheriff. So the
case was decided against the plaintiff.

Ellen’s next step was to hire two men, whom
she fee’d liberally, to make enquiries throughout
the city, in regard to those notifications.—
They went about, two days, making all possible
search for light in regard to the contested
notifications, calling upon all those who frequented
public places. But no person could be
found, who had either seen them, or heard of
their being seen. A fine advertisement, truly!
And here, let me ask, why was not this sale advertised
in the public papers? The same answer
that has been given before, will suffice
now. The owner of the property was a
laboring colored woman. Is not this reply, 89
truth as it is, a libel on the character of those
who wrought the work of evil?

Elleanor then brought an action against the
sheriff, tending to destroy his testimony in the
late case; and on the very day when it was to
be laid before the court, Mr.―, the purchaser,
came forward and told Ellen’s attorney, that
he would restore the property for twenty-one
hundred dollars, and two years’ rent. Ellen
then withdrew her case, and set herself about
procuring the money. This she raised; and it
was duly tendered to Mr.―. But mark his
regard for his word. He then said that Ellen
had been so longOpen note a013-rota She had great difficulty in obtaining it, as it was then
the period of the greatest pressure; and it was next to impossible
to get money at all. That Elleanor was able to
procure twenty-one hundred dollars, upon her own credit,
as such a time, in the space of six weeks, of itself
shews the esteem in which she was held, as well as the
energy and perseverance, for which she has always been
remarkable. in procuring the money, that
he must have twenty-three hundred dollars.

The additional two hundred dollars were
then raised, but the gentleman, in consequence
of repairs and alterations, which he could have
had no right to make, and require pay for, as 90
the case stood, next demanded twenty-five hundred
dollars, with six months’ rent.

The suspended action had, in the mean time,
been again brought forward; and was to have
been tried before the Circuit Court. But so
anxious was Ellen again to possess the property,
that she once more withdrew her action,
and came to the exorbitant terms of Mr. ―.
She again hired the additional two hundred
dollars; and finally effected a settlement.

This conduct, on the part of the purchaser,
requires no comment; for its meanness, not to
say dishonesty, is self-evident in the simplest
statement of the facts themselves. But this is
not all. The sheriff had informed Mr. ―,
that he could sue Elleanor for house rent, as
her goods had never been removed from the
tenement she had occupied. This he actually
did, and laid an attachment on her furniture,
which was advertised to be sold at public auction:
and it would have been, had not a gentleman
who had the management of her business,
gone forward and settled with Mr. ―.

The whole affair, from beginning to end, in
all its connections and bearings, was a web of
iniquity. It was a wanton outrage upon the 91
simplest and most evident principles of justice.
But the subject of this wrong, or rather of this
accumulation of wrongs, was a woman, and
therefore weak—a colored woman—and therefore
contemptible. No man ever would have
been treated so; and if a white woman had
been the subject of such wrongs, the whole
town—nay, the whole country, would have
been indignant: and the actors would have
been held up to the contempt they deserve!—
The story would have flown upon the wings of
the wind to the most remote borders of our
land. Newspaper editors would have copied,
and commented on it, till every spirit of honor,
of justice, and of chivalry, would have been
roused. At home benevolent societies would
have met, and taken efficient means to relieve
the sufferer; while every heart would have
melted in kindness, and every bosom have
poured out its sympathy. Is this wrong the
less a wrong, because the subject of it is weak
and defenceless? By the common laws of honor,
it is cowardice to strike the unarmed and
the weak. By the same rule, he who injures
the defenceless, adds meanness to crime.

Let us look more fully into the merits of this 92
case; and enquire how far Elleanor is entitled
to the sympathies, and the charities of the humane.
She has been industrious, and persevering
in all her labors. Her moral character
stands without reproach, fair as the fairest
cheek of beauty. Though earnest and successful
in the acquisition of money, she is not miserly,
or parsimonious, when any kindness is called
for, or good work is to be done. She gives freely
to those who need; both to individuals, and
societies. She subscribes for papers which she
cannot read, in order to promote the circulation
of truth, whether moral, or religious. Her losses
are to be attributed, mainly,Open note a014-rota One of the chief causes, was her reliance upon what
she considered the word of honor, of the Warwick
gentleman; for, had she believed it necessary, she could
have raised the money, without a doubt. to a. want of
knowledge in business, by which she became a
prey to the wanton carelessness, if not the wilful
and deliberate wickedness, of men, who
should have been the very last to have seized
the spoils of the weak.

Are there none to feel for her? Are there
none to sustain, and encourage her? Thank
God!—there are already a few—a few benevolent, 93
and noble-minded women, who dare come
forward and publicly defend the right, and
denounce the wrong. May the bright and
living spark of love, which illumines their
bosoms, kindle and expand itself, until, flying
from heart to heart, and from soul to soul, all
the friends of humanity will catch the sacred
flame. It is pleasant to do good. The very
act of generosity is its own reward. Then will
not every reader of this little book, recommend
it to the notice of the humane, and endeavor to
promote its sale; not for its own sake, but for
the sake of her, who depends upon its success,
for deliverance from the difficulties in which
she is involved. Ellen has yet a large debt to
liquidate, before her estate is freed from its incumbrance.
With a little timely help, together
with her earnings, she may be able to do this.

The compiler of these memoirs feels bound
to confess, that they are brought before the public
in a very imperfect manner; but if their
success is proportioned to the earnest and zealous
wishes of the writer, poor Elleanor will
have cause to rejoice. Inelegances and inaccuracies
of style and language, are unavoidable
necessities in the case; and if any are disposed 94
to find fault with the author’s poor labor, let
him remember that it was not undertaken for
the desire of fame, or the love of money, but
with the sole and single hope, of doing good.
There is no personal animosity, on the writer’s
part, towards any to whom allusions may have
been made. No names, in such cases, have
been used; and if notorious fact lay not bare
the bosom, nor conscience strike home the
knife, there will be no reproach, and no wound.

And to whomsover it may concern, I will
say: “Seek ye out the Book of the Lord, and
read.”

“Whatsoever ye would that men should do to
you, do ye even so unto them.”

“Pure religion, and undefiled before God and
the Father, is this; To visit the fatherless and
the widow, in their affliction, and to keep unspotted
from the world.”Open note q037-rota James 1, 27,

“Thus saith the Lord God; surely, because
my flock became a prey, and my flock became
meat to every beast of the field, because there
was no shepherd, neither did my shepherds
search for my flock; but the shepherds fed themselves; 95
Therefore, O, ye shepherds! hear the
word of the Lord. Thus saith the Lord God;
Behold I am against the shepherds; and I will
require my flock at their hands; neither shall
the shepherds feed themselves any more; for
I will deliver my flock from their mouth, that
they be no more meat for them.”Open note q038-rota Exekiel 34, 8, 9, 10.

“Who shall ascend into the Hill of the Lord
and who shall stand in his holy place? He that
hath clean hands and a pure heart who hath not
lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.”
Open note q039-rota Psalms 24, 3, 4.

“Let no man say when he is tempted, I am
tempted of God; for God cannot be tempted of
evil; neither tempteth he any man.”Open note q040-rota James 1, 13.

“Whoso keepeth his word, in him, verily,
is the love of God perfected.”

“Thou hast sent widows away empty; and
the arms of the fatherless have been
broken; for thou hast taken a pledge of thy
brother for nought, and stripped the naked of
his clothing.”

96

“Neither thieves, nor covetous, nor revilers,
nor extortioners, shall inherit the
kingdom of God.”

Of course, the edge and point of these quotations,
will be determined by individual circumstances.
But they were spoken by the inspiration
of Him, who is a God of justice, and
by whom “actions are weighed.”

97

Chapter XIII.

Since writing the above, a passage in the
life of Elleanor has come to my knowledge,
which, I think, deserves particular notice; since
it affords a happy illustration of one trait in her
character, that of generosity, and noble self-
sacrifice to the welfare of friends. It happened
that her brother George Eldridge some time
in the April of 18321832 was, for an alleged crime,
arrested and thrown into prison. He was accused
of having horse-whipped, and of otherwise
barbarously treating a man upon the highway.
As soon as the report came to the knowledge
of Elleanor, she determined to liberate
him, at all hazards; because she felt assured,
from all his previous course of conduct, and
from his well-established character and habits,
that he could not be guilty of the offence with
which he was charged.

These views of Elleanor were strongly opposed7 98
by her friends, who feared she might involve
herself in some difficulty, and advised her
to have nothing to do with the matter. But
these objections could not satisfy such a mind
as Elleanor’s; and obeying alone the dictates of
humanity, benevolence, and natural love, she
generously committed herself to the guardianship
of her brother’s rights. This brother had
a wife and family; and the consequence of being
detained in prison, for six months, as he
must have been, to await his trial in the spring,
would have been, not only unpleasant, but distressing.
Elleanor could allow of no such thing;
for, of what use would her property be, if it
could not purchase for her, the sweetest of all
luxuries, that of relieving the distress of a
friend?

Being at once resolved, she sent to a livery
stable for the handsomest horse and chaise it
afforded; for Ellen was determined to go in a
style accordant with the dignity of her mission.
On arriving at the Greenwich gaol, she found
her brother in a state of great distress, in view
of his long imprisonment, and the consequent
affliction and suffering of his family. How delightful
then to Ellen, was the consciousness of 99
power to relieve him! Was there any thing in
the abstract possession of money, houses, or
lands, that could, for one moment, be weighed
against it? She thought not.

The business was soon settled. Elleanor
gave bonds for five hundred dollars; liberated
her brother, and took upon herself the whole
management of his case.

The October following it was to have been
brought forward; but, on account of the absence
of some important witnesses, the defendant
prayed that it might be continued to the
spring term, the following April; which was
granted. The trial was then suspended again
on account of the illness of the defendant’s advocate:
and, finally, was tried the next October
term; when the accused was honorably acquitted;
as nothing could be proved against him,
while, on the contrary, he was able to establish
his entire innocence, by the fullest and clearest
evidence. Elleanor managed this case entirely;
and, on account of it, was subjected to considerable
cost and trouble; but she never regretted
having engaged in it, and would freely
have expended much more, had it been necessary
to effect her purpose.

100

This was the first law suit in which our
heroine has been engaged. She has since
managed one for herself; yet not with equal
success; and, with this experience in the law, she
declares herself fully satisfied; and she has no
desire to enter its mazes again.

Some of our young and romantic readers,
may feel curious to know why Elleanor never
married. When questioned on the subject, she
says that she has determined to profit by the
advice of her aunt, who told her never to marry,
because it involved such a waste of time; for,
said she, “while my young mistress was courting
and marrying, I knit five pairs of stockings.”
This is the reply that Ellen generally gives; but
as she has had several good offers, we can look
back to the records of the past, and think of a
tenderer, and deeper reason.

But we must now give to the subject of these
memories a parting blessing. Be not discouraged.
All will yet be well. Is there not a
voice of hope and peace, whispering within
thee, “I have seen thy fears behold I will heal
thee.”Open note q045-rota 2 Kings 20, 5. “I will seek that which was lost; I
will bind up that which was broken; and will 101
strengthen that which was sick.”Open note q046-rota Ezekial 34, 16. Thou shalt,
indeed, escape “as a bird out of the snare of
the fowlers; for the snare is broken. Though
thou hast eaten the bread of adversity, and drunk
the waters of afflictions, let thy soul be staid upon
his promises,” of whom it is said: “He shall
deliver thee in six troubles; yea, in seven shall
no evil touch thee.”Open note q048-rota Job 5, 19. He who disappointeth
the designs of the crafty, shall lead thee forth
beside the still waters of peace; and into thy
grateful heart shall be poured the song of joy.
How pleasant will be the sound of thy rejoicing,
when it finds an echo in the heart of thy kind
protectresses.

“Be strong and be of good courage; fear not,
nor be afraid; for the Lord thy God, he it is
that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee nor
forsake thee.”Open note q049-rota Deuteronomy 31, 6.

And for all thy wrongs and sufferings, mayst
thou reap blessings a hundred fold.