Catherine finished and sat down, made a sign for silence, and opened the New Testament and commenced her reading. Never had reader a more attentive or interested audience. She passed over the long, hard genealogical table in the first part of the chapter, and began with the Angel’s visit to the Virgin Mary, and read also the second chapter, describing the birth and infancy of the Saviour, sometimes stopping to give explanations, which she knew the simplicity of her audience made necessary. The family service was concluded with a prayer, and the servants dismissed.
And this evening service became thenceforth a daily practice. And Catherine’s people learned more of the life and doctrines of the Saviour from her, than they would have acquired in a lifetime’s attendance upon learned ministers, who preach only for the educated.
On Monday morning, Catherine entered upon her assumed duty of overseer. And, never were the affairs of a plantation better administered than by her. Her “good will was to it,” and all her faculties brought to bear upon the business. And although she kept a firm hold upon the reins of government, exacted the complete fulfillment of every duty, and kept steadily at their post every man and woman, yet never was a mistress more beloved and venerated. And certainly never was one so faithfully served. All subordinates need—not harsh nor lax government—but a steady, systematic, rational government, which they can understand and be satisfied with, and such an one was that of Catherine. Her administration was for her people a very wholesome change from the capricious tyranny of the late overseer, who had been accustomed to permit the utmost license and laxity among the laborers for four or five days, and then, growing alarmed, to hurry and worry, and drive and maltreat them for a week, to make up for lost time. Catherine’s government was regular, firm, just and merciful. And she was loved, respected and served accordingly. There were some exceptions, but they were very few and unimportant, and soon fell under the general rule.
And thus, in the perfect performance of every duty, domestic and social, that devolved upon her as wife, friend, mistress and Christian, Catherine passed the winter. The spring brought the usual accession of busy work, and she gave herself up to its direction with untiring energy and activity. She prayed, and labored, and trusted in Heaven, and Heaven prospered her work, and all went well. Before the first of June, she had paid off all those heavy notes, which had been accumulating interest so long. There were other heavy debts, but she saw her way clearly through, discharging them before the end of the current year.
But she never, never heard from Major Clifton. He seemed just as lost to her as if the grave had received him. She took all the principal newspapers, for the sake of keeping the run of the campaign; and oh! often her cheeks and very lips paled, and her heart sickened and sunk with terror, to read of the awful perils of war, and to think that he was exposed to them. But terror was not the only emotion raised by these descriptions of engagements. No—her whole soul glowed with patriotic ardor, when she read of the gallant repulse of the combined land and naval forces of the British, under Admirals Warren and Cockburn, and General Sir Sydney Beckwith, from Craney Island, by a mere handful of our troops; and her heart swelled with love and enthusiasm, when in the same account, she saw her husband’s name mentioned with the highest encomiums upon his bravery, discretion, and invaluable services.
Autumn came, bringing along with its other associations intensely distinct images of the last sweet, calm days she had passed at Hardbargain with her dying mother, and these vivid recollections stimulated afresh her devotion and her energy. During her administration, to clear the estate of debt, and at its close, to restore it unincumbered into the hands of her husband, was now her dear object. When the harvest was gathered in, she consulted several of her most intelligent and enterprising neighbors, concerning the state of the agricultural markets, and afterwards proceeded to Baltimore in person in order to obtain the best possible prices for her crops. She succeeded in effecting highly advantageous sales, and with the proceeds she returned home and paid off several of those heavy debts.
And so the autumn passed, and winter came, with its leisure, its stormy days, and its long nights. Nothing occurred to break the monotony of daily life until the last of December, when she collected the half year’s rent from Hardbargain, and paid off all the remaining debts, except one inconsiderable note of six hundred dollars. On the morning of the first of January, she sent as usual to the village post-office for her papers. When the boy returned, he handed her a letter directed in the hand-writing of Major Clifton. Oh! joy at last!—she tore open the envelope, and seized the enclosure—it was nothing but a check upon the Bank of Richmond for five hundred dollars. She let it fall unheeded, covered her face with her hands, and wept silently. But when her fit of silent weeping was over, she arose, took the check, went and collected what money she had left in the house, and ordered her carriage and drove to L——, and lifted that last note. Then Catherine had the joy of seeing the property entirely free from debt.
And so passed the winter and came the spring of 1814. And still she heard nothing from Major Clifton. And since reading the account of his gallant conduct on Craney Island, she learned nothing of him. And still from her loop-hole of retreat, she anxiously watched the progress of the war, seizing upon all the published accounts, and reading them with the greatest avidity. How diligently she searched the papers to find his name, and how eagerly her eyes darted down upon any officer’s name beginning with a C, which always turned out to be Crutchfield, Corbin, Carey, anything but Clifton! Oh, how barren was all this war news, after all!
But Admiral Cockburn’s piratical fleet was now in the Chesapeake, spreading devastation and terror through all its islands, coasts, and tributary rivers; and every paper was filled with accounts of his marauding incursions and savage atrocities, that defied just description, much more exaggeration. Hear what a cotemporary historian says of him:
“Throughout the waters and shores of the Chesapeake, Admiral Cockburn now reigned supreme, ubiquitous and irresistible. The burglaries, larcenies, incendiarisms, and mere marauding, perpetrated by Admiral Cockburn, were as odious and ignoble, though less bloody and horrible, than the inhuman atrocities of the British savages in the West. Slaves in large numbers, large quantities of tobacco, furniture, and other private property, protected by the laws of war, and seldom taken, even if destroyed by land troops, were seized upon by the sea-faring warriors with piratical rapacity. The predatory attacks of the enemy in the Chesapeake were limited to isolated villages, poor farm-houses, and other indefensible objects taken or destroyed. Destruction was the punishment proclaimed and executed for resistance. The house and barn were burned of whoever fired a shot, or drew a sword in self-defence. Many respectable persons in comfortable circumstances were reduced to poverty by these depredations. The poor were especial sufferers. With shores so indented with creeks and bays, the whole force of a State under arms would have been unequal to cope with such overwhelming aggressors.”