The speakers alluded to Mr. Todd’s taking possession of the Hapley farm, on account of the non-payment of his mortgage. Their conclusion was not a very charitable one, to be sure. Nor was it exactly kind in Mr. Todd to predict with so much assurance the relapse of Mr. Hapley. Still, it must be admitted that he had pretty strong ground for his opinion, though he need not have been so free to express it. The lesson of self-government is a hard one to learn in mature life, especially to a man who has for many years been tyrannized over by depraved appetites and passions. The position of such a man is something like that of Mazeppa, the young page of a Polish king, who for some offence was lashed, naked, to the back of a wild horse, which was then set free, and plunged with frightful speed through forest and plain into his native country, bearing his helpless and well-nigh lifeless rider with him. But when the appetites and passions are the ruled, and not the rulers, they may be compared to the same steed, tamed and docile, bridled and saddled, and ready to do your bidding. Mazeppa, it is true, had the good fortune to survive the painful ordeal, and lived to become a prince; but we think few would be willing to run such a race, even for such a prize, except upon the wild horses of their own ungovernable passions.
But Mr. Todd proved a true prophet, in this instance. In less than a fortnight after Benny’s death, Mr. Hapley came home from the village one afternoon sadly intoxicated. How he happened to fall, was never explained to the family. He had been to the store where liquors were sold, on business, and probably the wretched sensation in his stomach, aided by the sight and smell of the tempter, the associations of the place, and perhaps the coaxings of the drunkard-maker, suddenly swept away the breastwork of good purposes he had erected. He tasted—he fell; and what a death-blow was that act to the hopes and peace of his poor wife and children! To Mrs. Hapley and Jessie, especially, it seemed as if the last hope had been swept away.
The next day, when Mr. Hapley realized his situation, he was overcome with grief and shame. He was, moreover, discouraged. He had lost both his self-respect and his self-reliance. He had no longer any confidence in his ability to keep the pledge. Meanwhile his thirst for the deadly liquid was growing more insupportable for the fresh stimulus it had received. In this pitiable state of mind and body, he went again in the afternoon to the rum-shop, and attempted to drown his sorrow in a still deeper potation. Towards night, a severe snow-storm set in, but he did not return. Hour after hour did his wife sit at the fire, after the children had retired, listening for his return; but the wild shriek of the wind, as the storm waxed more furious, and the sharp rattle of the snow against the window panes, were the only sounds she heard. At length, when it was almost midnight, unable longer to bear the terrible suspense, she aroused Henry from his sleep, and told him to go over to Mrs. Page’s, and ask Marcus if he would not take a horse and go in search of the missing man. The boy dressed himself, and plunged into the huge snow-drifts. He had not proceeded far, however, before he began to doubt whether he should be able either to go on or to return. Blinded by the driving storm, transfixed by cutting blasts, the divisions between roads and fields quite obliterated, and floundering in snow up to his arm-pits, he sank exhausted, more than once, into the hole he had made; but with the energy of despair, he again aroused himself, and at length reached Mrs. Page’s door-steps.
After considerable effort, some of the family were aroused, and Marcus, on learning Henry’s errand, at once prepared to go out in search of his father. He concluded he could get along best on horseback; and putting a bridle on Charley, the toughest of the two horses, he mounted him, and taking Henry behind him, carried him home. He then set out for the village, by the route Mr. Hapley had probably taken, which led him directly into the teeth of the storm. But he found it impossible to keep in the road, and his horse soon began to sink into old drifts newly buried, and to flounder among invisible stones, stumps, fences and pitfalls, until, at last, the exhausted creature seemed unable to proceed further. Marcus was accordingly obliged to give up the search, of which fact he informed Mrs. Hapley, before returning home.
The storm moderated in the morning, but owing to the state of the roads, several hours elapsed before arrangements could be made to search for the missing man. In the course of the forenoon, he was found, about a quarter of a mile from the road, sitting in his sleigh, with the reins in his hands; but the rider and his horse were both frozen stiff. The horse had apparently been thrown down by a log, and was unable to rise without assistance, which the unfortunate rider was too insensible or too benumbed to render. So they perished there alone, and were well-nigh buried from sight before they were discovered. A jug of rum, found in the sleigh, furnished a sad clue to the catastrophe, had any been needed.
The next day, a new grave was opened in the frozen earth, by the side of Benny’s, and the father was laid close by the son he had so lately promised to meet in heaven, and to whom he had pledged himself to a reformed life. O, how sad is such a funeral, when hope, and honor, and happiness, are consigned to the tomb with the remains of the lost! Truly, in such a case “’tis the survivor dies.”
It is often said that misfortunes never come singly. So, indeed, did it prove in the case of this family. The property left by Mr. Hapley was barely sufficient to pay his debts; and as most of it was mortgaged, very little remained for the family. Notwithstanding these reverses, Jessie continued to attend the academy, and was still “trying to be somebody,” as Abby Leonard contemptuously expressed it, though that young lady, it should be added, now manifested something like pity for the heart-stricken girl. And in spite of the drawbacks to which she had been subjected, Jessie maintained a high rank in her class, winning the respect alike of teachers and scholars, as she also did their sympathy and good-will. But there were few among her gay-hearted school-mates who could half realize the sorrows, and disappointments, and discouragements, that were mingled in her cup.
On returning from school one afternoon, she found traces of weeping on the face of her mother, which the latter for a time declined to explain. The reason, however, came out after a while. On the death of Mr. Hapley, as he left no will, an administrator was appointed, according to law, to settle up his estate; that is, to take charge of the property, ascertain and pay the debts, and deliver the balance, if any, to the lawful heirs. This administrator was a kind-hearted man named Allen, who had always shown himself very friendly to Mrs. Hapley. It seemed Mr. Allen had called upon her, that afternoon, to talk about her husband’s affairs. There was, he said, but little more than sufficient property to pay off the mortgages. He advised her, therefore, to give up the farm, to sell all the personal property they could dispense with, and to find homes for herself and children elsewhere. The children, he said, were all old enough to support themselves, and she need have no one but herself to look out for.
“Well, mother, that’s only what I expected,” said Jessie, when the matter was explained; “we couldn’t carry on the farm, if we should stay here, and we may as well go somewhere else. Grandpa said he would give you a home; Henry can get a chance to live with some farmer, and work for his board and clothes; Sam can earn his living, if he chooses to; and as for me, I will go to some factory town and work in a mill, and in a little time I shall be able to support you, as well as myself.”