Home as Found, James Fenimore Cooper [bookreader txt] 📗

ascent, by a _coup d'oeil_ that was

almost Swiss in character and beauty.

 

"Now do I know where we are," exclaimed Eve, clasping her hands in

rapture--"this is the 'Vision,' and yonder, indeed, is our blessed

home!"

 

The whole artifice of the surprise was exposed, and after the first

bursts of pleasure had subsided, all to whom the scene was novel

felt, that they would not have missed this _piquante_ introduction to

the valley of the Susquehannah, on any account. That the reader may

understand the cause of so much delight, and why John Effingham had

prepared this scene for his friends, we shall stop to give a short

description of the objects that first met the eyes of the travellers.

 

It is known that they were in a small open spot in a forest, and on

the verge of a precipitous mountain. The trees encircled them on

every side but one, and on that lay the panorama, although the tops

of tall pines, that grew in lines almost parallel to the declivity,

rose nearly to a level with the eye. Hundreds of feet beneath them,

directly in front, and stretching leagues to the right, was a lake

embedded in woods and hills. On the side next the travellers, a

fringe of forest broke the line of water; tree tops that intercepted

the view of the shores; and on the other, high broken hills, or low

mountains rather, that were covered with farms, beautifully relieved

by patches of wood, in a way to resemble the scenery of a vast park,

or a royal pleasure ground, limited the landscape. High valleys lay

among these uplands, and in every direction comfortable dwellings

dotted the fields. The contrast between the dark hues of the

evergreens, with which all the heights near the water were shaded,

was in soft contrast to the livelier green of the other foliage,

while the meadows and pastures were luxuriant with a verdure

unsurpassed by that of England. Bays and points added to the

exquisite outline of the glassy lake on this shore, while one of the

former withdrew towards the north-west, in a way to leave the eye

doubtful whether it was the termination of the transparent sheet or

not. Towards the south, bold, varied, but cultivated hills, also

bounded the view, all teeming with the fruits of human labour, and

yet all relieved by pieces of wood, in the way already mentioned, so

as to give the entire region the character of park scenery. A wide,

deep, even valley, commenced at the southern end of the lake, or

nearly opposite to the stand of our travellers, and stretched away

south, until concealed by a curvature in the ranges of the mountains.

Like all the mountain-tops, this valley was verdant, peopled, wooded

in places, though less abundantly than the hills, and teeming with

the signs of life. Roads wound through its peaceful retreats, and

might be traced working their way along the glens, and up the weary

ascents of the mountains, for miles, in every direction.

 

At the northern termination of this lovely valley, and immediately on

the margin of the lake, lay the village of Templeton, immediately

under the eyes of the party. The distance, in an air line, from their

stand to the centre of the dwellings, could not be much less than a

mile, but the air was so pure, and the day so calm, that it did not

seem so far. The children and even the dogs were seen running about

the streets, while the shrill cries of boys at their gambols,

ascended distinctly to the ear.

 

As this was the Templeton of the Pioneers, and the progress of

society during half a century is connected with the circumstance, we

shall give the reader a more accurate notion of its present state,

than can be obtained from incidental allusions. We undertake the

office more readily because this is not one of those places that

shoot up in a day, under the unnatural efforts of speculation, or

which, favoured by peculiar advantages in the way of trade, becomes a

precocious city, while the stumps still stand in its streets; but a

sober county town, that has advanced steadily, _pari passu_ with the

surrounding country, and offers a fair specimen of the more regular

advancement of the whole nation, in its progress towards

civilization.

 

The appearance of Templeton, as seen from the height where it is now

exhibited to the reader, was generally beautiful and map-like. There

might be a dozen streets, principally crossing each other at right-

angles, though sufficiently relieved from this precise delineation,

to prevent a starched formality. Perhaps the greater part of the

buildings were painted white, as is usual in the smaller American

towns; though a better taste was growing in the place, and many of

the dwellings had the graver and chaster hues of the grey stones of

which they were built. A general air of neatness and comfort pervaded

the place, it being as unlike a continental European town, south of

the Rhine, in this respect, as possible, if indeed we except the

picturesque bourgs of Switzerland. In England, Templeton would be

termed a small market-town, so far as size was concerned; in France,

a large _bourg_; while in America it was, in common parlance, and

legal appellation, styled a village.

 

Of the dwellings of the place, fully twenty were of a quality that

denoted ease in the condition of their occupants, and bespoke the

habits of those accustomed to live in a manner superior to the _oi

polloi_ of the human race. Of these, some six or eight had small

lawns, carriage sweeps, and the other similar appliances of houses

that were not deemed unworthy of the honour of bearing names of their

own. No less than five little steeples, towers, or belfries, for

neither word is exactly suitable to the architectural prodigies we

wish to describe, rose above the roofs, denoting the sites of the

same number of places of worship; an American village usually

exhibiting as many of these proofs of liberty of conscience--

_caprices of conscience_ would perhaps be a better term--as dollars

and cents will by any process render attainable. Several light

carriages, such as were suitable to a mountainous country, were

passing to and fro in the streets; and, here and there, a single-

horse vehicle was fastened before the door of a shop, or a lawyer's

office, denoting the presence of some customer, or client, from among

the adjacent hills.

 

Templeton was not sufficiently a thoroughfare to possess one of those

monstrosities, a modern American tavern, or a structure whose roof

should overtop that of all its neighbours. Still its inns were of

respectable size, well piazzaed, to use a word of our own invention,

and quite enough frequented.

 

Near the centre of the place, in grounds of rather limited extent,

still stood that model of the composite order, which owed its

existence to the combined knowledge and taste, in the remoter ages of

the region, of Mr. Richard Jones and Mr. Hiram Doolittle. We will not

say that it had been modernized, for the very reverse was the effect,

in appearance at least; but, it had since undergone material changes,

under the more instructed intelligence of John Effingham.

 

This building was so conspicuous by position and size, that as soon

as they had taken in glimpses of the entire landscape, which was not

done without constant murmurs of pleasure, every eye became fastened

on it, as the focus of interest. A long and common silence denoted

how general was this feeling, and the whole party took seats on

stumps and fallen trees before a syllable was uttered, after the

building had attracted their gaze. Aristabulus alone permitted his

look to wander, and he was curiously examining the countenance of Mr.

Effingham, near whom he sate, with a longing to discover whether the

expression was that of approbation, or of disapprobation, of the

fruits of his cousin's genius.

 

"Mr. John Effingham has considerably regenerated and revivified, not

to say transmogrified, the old dwelling," he said, cautiously using

terms that might have his own opinion of the changes doubtful. "The

work of his hand has excited some speculation, a good deal of

inquiry, and a little conversation, throughout the country. It has

almost produced an excitement!"

 

"As my house came to me from my father," said Mr. Effingham, across

whose mild and handsome face a smile was gradually stealing, "I knew

its history, and when called on for an explanation of its

singularities, could refer all to the composite order. But, you,

Jack, have supplanted all this, by a style of your own, for which I

shall be compelled to consult the authorities for explanations."

 

"Do you dislike my taste, Ned?--To my eye, now, the structure has no

bad appearance from this spot!"

 

"Fitness and comfort are indispensable requisites for domestic

architecture, to use your own argument. Are you quite sure that

yonder castellated roof, for instance, is quite suited to the deep

snows of these mountains?"

 

John Effingham whistled, and endeavoured to look unconcerned, for he

well knew that the very first winter had demonstrated the

unsuitableness of his plans for such a climate. He had actually felt

disposed to cause the whole to be altered privately, at his own

expense; but, besides feeling certain his cousin would resent a

liberty that inferred his indisposition to pay for his own buildings,

he had a reluctance to admit, in the face of the whole country, that

he had made so capital a mistake, in a branch of art in which he

prided himself rather more than common; almost as much as his

predecessor in the occupation, Mr. Richard Jones.

 

"If you are not pleased with your own dwelling, Ned," he answered,

"you can have, at least, the consolation of looking at some of your

neighbours' houses, and of perceiving that they are a great deal

worse off. Of all abortions of this sort, to my taste, a Grecian

abortion is the worst--mine is only Gothic, and that too, in a style

so modest, that I should think it might pass unmolested."

 

It was so unusual to see John Effingham on the defensive, that the

whole party smiled, while Aristabulus who stood in salutary fear of

his caustic tongue, both smiled and wondered.

 

"Nay, do not mistake me, John," returned the proprietor of the

edifice under discussion--"it is not your _taste_ that I call in

question, but your provision against the seasons. In the way of mere

outward show, I really think you deserve high praise, for you have

transformed a very ugly dwelling into one that is almost handsome, in

despite of proportions and the necessity of regulating the

alterations by prescribed limits. Still, I think, there is a little

of the composite left about even the exterior."

 

"I hope, cousin Jack, you have not innovated on the interior," cried

Eve; "for I think I shall remember that, and nothing is more pleasant

than the _cattism_ of seeing objects that you remember in childhood--

pleasant, I mean, to those whom the mania of mutation has not

affected."

 

"Do not be alarmed, Miss Effingham," replied her kinsman, with a

pettishness of manner that was altogether extraordinary, in a man

whose mien, in common, was so singularly composed and masculine; "you

will find all that you knew, when a kitten, in its proper place. I

could not rake together, again, the ashes of Queen Dido, which were

scattered to the four winds of Heaven, I fear; nor could I discover a

reasonably good bust of Homer; but respectable substitutes are

provided, and some of them have the great merit of puzzling all

beholders to tell to whom they belong, which I believe was the great

characteristic of most of Mr. Jones's invention."

 

"I am glad to see, cousin Jack, that you have, at least, managed to

give a very respectable 'cloud-colour' to the whole house."

 

"Ay, it lay between that and an invisible green," the gentleman

answered, losing his momentary spleen in his natural love of the

ludicrous--"but finding that the latter would be only too conspicuous

in the droughts that sometimes prevail in this climate, I settled

down into the yellowish drab, that is, indeed, not unlike some of the

richer volumes of the clouds."

 

"On the whole, I think you are fairly entitled, as Steadfast Dodge,

Esquire, would say, to 'the meed of our thanks.'"

 

"What a lovely spot!" exclaimed Mr. Effingham, who had already ceased

to think of his own dwelling, and whose eye was roaming over the soft

landscape, athwart which the lustre of a June noontide was throwing

its richest glories. "This is truly a place where one might fancy

repose and content were to be found for the evening of a troubled

life."

 

"Indeed, I have seldom looked upon a more bewitching scene," answered

the baronet. "The lakes of Cumberland will scarce compete with this!"

 

"Or that of Brienz, or Lungeren, or Nemi," said Eve, smiling in a way

that the other understood to be a hit at his nationality.

 

"_C'est charmant!_" murmured Mademoiselle Viefville. "_On pense a

l'eternite, dans une