Wives and Widows; or, The Broken Life

by Ann S. Stephens

"'No! they were fellow-sufferers. It is understood that Lawrence has lost heavily, and will perhaps be ruined.'

"Instantly my heart swelled with sympathy for the man who had helped to impoverish me.

"'Oh! if he had but left the estate unburdened, I should not care.'

"Heaven knows I was thinking of the man who had, perhaps, wronged me, but the executor misunderstood my words and looked at me wonderingly. I saw this, but could not explain that the great wish of my heart was that there might be enough to redeem the losses that had fallen upon Lawrence. I could not endure to think of him as a poor man. A poor man—that is a terrible word to the ears of a Southern lady.

"The executor tried to explain everything clearly, and I made an effort to understand. He was anxious about the property, and thought the times unpropitious. The North and South were that hour verging closer and closer toward a civil war, in which the value of property would become uncertain, and I might be a sufferer.

"I knew all this before; rumors of political strife had reached even our secluded home. I knew that the bitter animosity which had been long growing between the North and South had even then broken into open hostilities. Southern statesmen had retreated in a body from the United States Senate, and resigned their seats in the House. I had taken a blind interest in this matter, and, in a loose way, hated everything that opposed the dominant power of my own section; but it was as a child takes sides. I did not, and do not, really understand the questions which give rise to all this turmoil. Of course, the whole affair will be settled somehow; people never do fight when they threaten so much. Besides, the South is so reasonable; she only asks to set up for herself, and be let alone. What objection can there be to this? I dare say the Northern people will acquiesce; but if not, it will only take a month or so to gain our independence. I think the executor is right to put off the sale till then; for of course property will rise enormously, and this may compensate me for that great drawback, the mortgage. But until the estate is settled, I must remain a slave here. Perhaps that is best; it would not be proper for a widow to seek society under a year; but oh! how dreary that year will be!

"I wonder if Mr. Lawrence has heard of his friend's death? Months have gone by and not a word from him, not even the usual letter of condolence. Perhaps he is coming. Surely the share he has taken in the ruin of this property ought to bring some explanation. There is no reason now why he should keep aloof.

"At last I have heard from him. A letter came to the executor, enclosing one for me. It is in my bosom. I have covered the senseless paper with kisses. Yet there is nothing in it but gentle condolence for sorrow. The reason he has not written before is that the news of Mr. Dennison's death reached him in Europe, where he will remain until the end of this year. His letter to the executor was long and thoroughly explanatory of all the business which lay between him and Mr. Dennison. This mortgage, it seems, was only the accumulation of many others that had from year to year been a burden on the estate. Through the influence of Mr. Lawrence, a New York capitalist had paid up these mortgages, and concentrated them into one which, after all, does not cover half the value of the estate. It was this act of friendship which brought Mr. Lawrence to our house. There was neither risk nor speculation in the whole business. Even with this encumbrance, Mr. Dennison's will would have left me wealthy, but for the terrible civil war which has broken over us. As it is, there are three hundred slaves, which the mortgage does not touch, and they are a handsome property in themselves.

"The estate is sold, and the result scarcely covers the mortgage. Still the slaves are left, and my jewels are of great value. Sometimes, when my hand rests upon my black dress, the diamonds with which my husband loaded it flame up and burn into my conscience. How could I be so negligent and cold to him?

"Some months longer I shall remain on the estate. The new owner wishes to hire most of my slaves; that arrangement will supply me with an ample income, and permit me to go anywhere; that is, if I can get away, when the whole country is swarming with armed men. Thank heaven! my home has escaped all these military disturbances; but they build a wall of bayonets between me and him. I cannot even get letters....