Rich Enough / a tale of the times

by Hannah Farnham Sawyer Lee

“I cannot think,” said Howard, “the view would be improved; you would have a great stone building, with its countless windows and abutments, but you would lose the still, tranquil effect of the prospect, and take much from the beauty of the stream.”

“Not as I shall manage it,” said Mr. Draper.  “I am sure Frances herself will agree with me that it adds fifty per cent. to the beauty of the prospect when she sees it completed.”

In vain Frances protested she was satisfied with it as it was; the month that she had hoped was to be given to leisure was one of the busiest of her husband’s life.  Contracts were made—an association formed.  Mr. Draper was continually driving to the city, and mechanics were passing to and fro.  Clyde Farm began to wear the appearance of a business place.  A manufacturing company was incorporated under the title of the Clyde Mills.  The stillness of the spot was exchanged for the strokes of the pickaxe, the human voice urging on oxen and horses, the blasting of rocks; the grass was trampled down, the trees were often wantonly injured, and, where they obstructed the tracks of wheels, laid prostrate.  Frances no longer delighted to walk at noon day under the thick foliage that threw its shadow on the grass as vividly as a painting.  All was changed!  It is true she now saw her husband, but she had but little more of his society; his mind and time were wholly engrossed; he came often, and certainly did not, as formerly, confine his visits to the Sabbath.

All went on with wonderful rapidity; story rose upon story, till it seemed as if the new manufactory, with its windows and abutments, was destined to become another Babel.  When Charlotte came to Clyde, she gazed with astonishment.  “All this,” said she to Howard, “is the project of a speculator!  Grown men now-a-days remind me of the story of the boy who planted his bean at night, and went out in the morning to see how it grew; he found it had nearly reached the chamber windows; he went out the next morning, and it was up to the eaves of the house; on the third morning, it had shot up to the clouds, and he descried a castle, or a manufactory, I don’t know which, on the top of it.  Then it was high time to scale it; so up, up, he went, and when he arrived at the building, he put his foot into it, and then he perceived it was made of vapor; and down came bean, castle, and boy, headlong, in three seconds, though it had taken three whole days to complete the work.”

“You must tell your story to my brother,” said Howard.

“No,” replied Charlotte; “he would not profit by it; but I will tell it to my children, and teach them to train their beans in the good old-fashioned way, near the ground.”

Thus passed the autumn at Clyde; that period which every reflecting mind enjoys as a season of contemplation; that period when our New England woods assume every variety of color, and shine forth with a splendor that indicates decay.  Still the two families had much enjoyment together; the health of Frances and little Charlotte had decidedly improved; but when the leaves began to fall, and the wind to whistle through the branches, they quitted Clyde and returned to the city.  Their new house was not ready for them, and they were obliged to take lodgings at one of the hotels.

Mr. Draper met Dr. B., their friend and physician, in his walks, and begged him to call and see his wife.  “I rejoice to say,” said he, “that her health does not require any medical advice; she is quite well.”

Probably Dr. B. thought otherwise, for he suggested the advantage that both she and the little girl might derive from passing the winter in a warm climate.  Never was there a fairer opportunity; they had no home to quit, and their residence at a hotel was one of necessity, not of choice.  But Mr. Draper said it was quite impossible.  What! leave his counting-room, State Street, India Wharf, the insurance offices! leave all in the full tide of speculation, when he was near the El Dorado for which he had so long been toiling! when Eastern lands and Western lands, rail-roads and steam-boats, cotton, and manufactories, were in all their glory; when his own Clyde Mills were just going into operation!  It was impossible, wholly impossible; and Frances would not go without him.  The suggestion was given up, and she remained in the city almost wholly confined to the atmosphere of a small room with a coal fire.  Unfortunately the measles appeared among the children at the hotel, and Mrs. Draper’s were taken sick before she knew that the epidemic was there.  They had the best attendance, but nothing supersedes a mother’s devotion.  Frances passed many a sleepless night in watching over them.  With the eldest the disorder proved slight, but it was otherwise with the youngest; and when she began to grow better, the mother drooped.  It was a dreary winter for poor Mrs. Draper, but not so for her husband.  Never had there been a season of such profits, such glorious speculations!  Some croakers said it could not last; and some of our gifted statesmen predicted that an overwhelming blow must inevitably come.  But all this was nothing to speculators; it certainly would not arrive till after they had made their millions.

Spring approached, with its uncertainty of climate; sometimes, the streets were in rivers, and the next day frozen in masses; then came volumes of east wind.  Mrs. Draper’s cough returned more frequently than ever, and Charlotte looked too frail for earth.  The physician informed Mr. Draper that he considered it positively necessary to remove the invalids to a milder climate, and mentioned Cuba.  Mr. Draper, however, decided that an inland journey would be best, and, inconvenient as it was, determined to travel as far as some of the cotton-growing states.  After the usual busy preparations, they set off, the wife fully realizing that she was blighting in the bud her husband’s projected speculations for a few weeks to come, and feeling that he was making what he considered great sacrifices.