Brother Against Brother; Or, The War on the Border

by Oliver Optic

For seven years Titus fawned upon his wealthy brother. He was as obsequious in his presence as one of the field-hands of Riverlawn; but the colonel did not believe in him as he did in Noah, especially after his long visit to the latter. When the health of the planter began to be slightly impaired a couple of years before his death, Titus was sordid enough to think of what would become of his plantation, which seemed like a mine of wealth to him, at the decease of the owner.

He had talked planting, hemp, and horses to the colonel, and did all he could to impress him with the belief that he was competent to manage the plantation. It was his nature to believe in what he desired, and he was satisfied that Riverlawn would be bequeathed to him, as it ought to be. The reading of the will was a shock to him. The giving of ten thousand dollars more than his fair share to Noah, who lived far away, and had never even seen the plantation, in consideration for bringing up the two orphans of his brother, excited his wrath.

He regarded this gift as an absolute wrong to him, while he was compelled in pay the note out of his own share. He went home from Riverlawn that day choking down his anger; but he was furious in the presence of his wife, though she did all she could to console him. She pointed out the fact that he now owned his place clear of any debt, and had twenty thousand dollars in cash, stocks, and bonds; but he was not satisfied. He wanted Riverlawn, where he could live in style, with an abundant income without work.

As he brooded over his fancied wrong, it came to his mind that the colonel's ante-mortem inventory had not included the value of the negroes on the plantation. He hastened over to see Colonel Cosgrove, the executor. He exhibited a copy of the will, and Titus studied over it for half a day. Nothing was said about the slaves. Then he went to another lawyer with whom he had had some political dealings; but this gentleman assured him that he had no remedy; the colonel had an undoubted right to dispose of his property as he pleased, even if he had given the whole of it to Noah. He had bequeathed the plantation, the mansion, with all that was in or on them, or appertaining to them; and this included the negroes.

For nearly two years Titus had nursed his wrath, and was earnest in his belief that Noah ought to right the wrong the colonel had done him. Yet he had never had the courage to make this claim upon his brother, or even to mention to him the five thousand dollars which he insisted belonged to him. The law could do nothing for him, his own lawyer told him. Noah was his brother, now his only brother; and it was his duty, according to every principle of right and justice, to pay over to him half of the legacy of ten thousand dollars, and of the twenty-five thousand dollars which was a low valuation of the negro property.

The quantity of Kentucky whiskey which Titus consumed magnified his wrongs and made him more unreasonable than his natural discontent would have made him. When he learned from his younger son what his wife had told Mrs. Noah, he was more furious than he had ever been known to be before, and he descended to the brutality of striking her. He had taken more than his habitual potion of whiskey, and it made him ugly. His wife wept bitterly over the abuse she had been subjected to, both the words and the blow, and she had fled to her bedroom.

She was a high-spirited woman, and it seemed to her that the end of all things had come, at least so far as her domestic happiness was concerned. Her father was a well-to-do farmer; and neither he nor her brothers would permit her to be abused by any one, not even by her husband. A sudden and violent resolution came to her to return to her father's house. While she was thinking of this remedy and of the parting with her children, Titus rushed into the room. She must undo the mischief she had done, and he would drive her to Riverlawn for that purpose. He told her what to say, and she promised to say it; for she felt that she had been indiscreet in what she had said.

During the drive her husband had continued to abuse her with his unruly tongue, and she had wept all the way. They found Noah and Deck on the bridge, and Titus decided to pour out his grievances to his brother; for his drams had brought his courage up to the point where he felt like doing it. He was not intoxicated, but he had drunk enough to make him ugly. He descended from the vehicle, and Mrs. Titus drove over to the mansion.

Dexter was sent away as before related, and the father was somewhat moved by the rudeness with which the boy had been treated. He was a mild-spoken man; and though he was quiet in his manner, he had more real grit in his composition than Titus.

"You seem to be excited, Titus," said Noah, as he seated himself on the bench from which he had just risen.