# The Pioneers (Cooper)/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III.
All that thou see'st, is nature's handy work: Those rocks that upward throw their mossy brows, Like castled pinnacles of elder times! These venerable stems, that slowly rock Their tow'ring branches in the wintry gale! That field of frost, which glitters in the sun, Mocking the whiteness of a marble breast!— Yet man can mar such works with his rude taste, Like some sad spoiler of a virgin's fame.
Duo.
Some little while elapsed, after the horses had resumed their journey, ere Marmaduke Temple Was sufficiently recovered from his agitation, to scan the person of his new companion. He now observed, that he was a youth of some two or three and twenty years of age; and rather above the middle height. Further observation was prevented by the rough over-coat, which was belted close to his form by a worsted sash, much like the one worn by the old hunter. The eyes of the Judge, after resting a moment on the figure of the stranger, were raised to a scrutiny of his countenance. There had been a contraction of the brows, and a look of care, visible in the features of the youth, when he first entered the sleigh, that had not only attracted the notice of Elizabeth, but which she had been much puzzled to interpret. The passion seemed the strongest when he was enjoining his old companion to secrecy; and when he had decided, and was, rather passively, suffering himself to be conveyed to the village, the expression of the young man's eyes by no means indicated any great degree of self-satisfaction at ​the step. But the lines of an uncommonly prepossessing countenance were gradually becoming composed; and he now sate in silent and, apparently, abstracted musing. The Judge gazed at him for some time with earnestness, and then smiling as if at his own forgetfulness, he spoke—
"I believe, my young friend, that terror has driven your name from my recollection—your face is very familiar to me, and yet for the honour of a score of buck's-tails in my cap, I could not tell your name."
"I came into the county but three weeks since, sir," returned the youth coldly, "and, I understand you have been absent more than that time."
"It will be five to-morrow. Yet your face is one that l have seen; though it would not be strange, such has been my affright, should I see thee in thy winding-sheet, walking by my bedside, to-night. What say'st thou Bess? Am I compos mentis or not?—Fit to charge a grand jury, or, what is just now of more pressing necessity, able to do the honours of a Christmas-eve, in the hall of Templeton?"
"More able to do either, my dear father," said a playful voice from under the ample enclosures of the hood, "than to kill deer with a smooth-bore." A short pause followed; and the same voice, but in a different accent continued—"We shall have good reasons for our thanksgivings tonight, on more accounts than one."
A slightly scornful smile passed over the features of the youth, at the archness of the first part of this speech; but it instantly vanished, as he listened to the tremulous tones in which it was concluded. The Judge, also, seemed to be affected with the consciousness of how narrowly he had escaped taking the life of a fellow—creature, and, for some time, there was a dead silence in the sleigh.
​The horses soon reached a point, where they seemed to know by instinct that their journey was nearly ended, and, bearing on the bits, as they tossed their heads, uneasily, up and down, they rapidly drew the sleigh over the level land, which lay on the top of the mountain, and soon came to the point where the road descended suddenly, but circuitously, into the valley.
The Judge was roused from his reflections, when he saw the four columns of dense smoke, which floated along the air from his own chimneys. As house, village, and valley burst on his sight, he exclaimed cheerfully to his daughter—
"See, Bess, there is thy resting-place for life! And thine too, young man, if thou will consent to dwell with us."
The eyes of the youth and maiden involuntarily met, as the Judge, in the warmth of his feelings, thus included them in an association which was to endure so long; and if the deepening colour, that, notwithstanding her hood, might be seen gathering over the face even to the forehead of Elizabeth, was contradicted in its language by the proud expression of her eye, the scornful but covert smile that again played about the lips of the stranger, seemed equally to deny the probability of his consenting to form one of this family group. The scene was one, however, which might easily warm a heart less given to philanthropy than that of Marmaduke Temple.
The side of the mountain, on which our travellers were journeying, though not absolutely perpendicular, was yet so steep as to render great care necessary in descending the rude and narrow path, which, in that early day, wound along the precipices. The negro reined in his impatient steeds, and time was given to Elizabeth to dwell on a scene which was so rapidly, altering ​under the hands of man, that it only resembled, in its outlines, the picture she had so often studied, with delight, in her childhood. On the right, and stretching for several miles to the north, lay a narrow plain, buried among mountains, which, falling occasionally, jutted in long low points, that were covered with tall trees, into the valley; and then again, for miles, stretched their lofty brows perpendicularly along its margin, nourishing in the crags that formed their sides, pines and hemlocks thinly interspersed with chesnut and beech, which grew in lines nearly parallel to the mountains themselves. The dark foliage of the evergreens was brilliantly contrasted by the glittering whiteness of the plain, which exhibited, over the tops of the trees, and through the vistas formed by the advancing points of the hills, a single sheet of unspotted snow, relieved occasionally by a few small dark objects that were discovered, as they were passing directly beneath the feet of the travellers, to be sleighs moving in various directions. On the western border of the plain, the mountains, though equally high, were less precipitous, and as they receded, opened into irregular valleys and glens, and were formed into terraces and hollows that admitted of cultivation. Although the evergreens still held dominion over many of the hills that rose on this side of the valley, yet the undulating outlines of the distant mountains, covered with forests of beech and maple, gave a relief to the eye, and the promise of a kinder soil. Occasionally, spots of white were discoverable amidst the forests of the opposite hills, that announced, by the smoke which curled over the tops of the trees, the habitations of man, and the commencement of agriculture. These spots were sometimes, by the aid of united labour, enlarged into what were called settlements; but more frequently were small and insulated; ​though so rapid were the changes, and so persevering the labours of those who had cast their fortunes on the success of the enterprise, that it was not difficult for the imagination of Elizabeth to conceive they were enlarging under her eye, while she was gazing, in mute wonder, at the alterations that a few short years had made in the aspect of the country. The points on the western side of the plain were both larger and more numerous than those on its eastern, and one in particular thrust itself forward in such a manner, as to form beautifully curved bays of snow on either side. On its extreme end a mighty oak stretched forward, as if to overshadow, with its branches, a spot which its roots were forbidden to enter. It had released itself from the thraldom, that a growth of centuries had imposed on the branches of the surrounding forest trees, and threw its gnarled and fantastic arms abroad, in all the wildness of unrestrained liberty. A dark spot of a few acres in extent at the southern extremity of this beautiful flat, and immediately under the feet of our travellers, alone showed, by its rippling surface, and the vapours which exhaled from it, that what at first might seem a plain, was one of the mountain lakes, locked in the frosts of winter. A narrow current rushed impetuously from its bosom at the open place we have mentioned, and might be traced for a few miles, as it wound its way towards the south through the real valley, by its borders of hemlock and pine, and by the vapour which arose from its warmer surface into the chill atmosphere of the hills. The banks of this lovely basin, at its outlet, or southern end, were steep but not high; and in that direction the land continued for many miles a narrow but level plain, along which the settlers had scattered their humble habitations, with a profu— ​sion that bespoke the quality of the soil, and the comparative facilities of intercourse. Immediately on the bank of the lake, stood the village of Templeton. It consisted of about fifty buildings, including those of every description, chiefly built of wood, and which, in their architecture, bore not only strong marks of the absence of taste, but also, by the slovenly and unfinished appearance of most of the dwellings, indicated the hasty manner of their construction. To the eye, they presented a variety of colours. A few were white in both front and rear, but more bore that expensive colour on their fronts only, while their economical but ambitious owners had covered the remaining sides of their edifices with a dingy red. One or two were slowly assuming the russet of age; while the uncovered beams that were to be seen through the broken windows of their second stories, showed, that either the taste, or the vanity of their proprietors, had led them to undertake a task which they were unable to accomplish. The whole were grouped together in a manner that aped the streets of a city, and were evidently so arranged, by the directions of one, who looked far ahead to the wants of posterity, rather than to the convenience of the present incumbents. Some three or four of the better sort of buildings, in addition to the uniformity of their colour, were fitted with green blinds, that were rather strangely contrasted to the chill aspect of the lake, the mountains, the forests, and the wide fields of snow. Before the doors of these pretending dwellings, were placed a few saplings either without branches, or possessing only the feeble shoots of one or two summers' growth, that looked not unlike tall grenadiers on post, near the threshold of princes. In truth, the occupants of these favoured habitations were the nobles of Templeton, as Mar​maduke was its king. They were the dwellings of two young men who were cunning in the law; an equal number of that class who chaffered to supply the wants of the community, under the significant title of store-keepers; and a disciple of Æsculapius, who, for a novelty, brought more subjects into the world than he sent out of it. In the midst of this incongruous group of dwellings, rose the mansion of the Judge, towering proudly above all its neighbours. It stood in the centre of an enclosure that included several acres, which were covered with fruit-trees. Some of these were of Indian origin, and began already to assume the moss and inclination of age, therein forming a very marked contrast to the infant plantations that peered over most of the picketed fences in the village. In addition to this show of cultivation, were two rows of young poplars, a tree but lately introduced into America, formally lining either side of a pathway, which led from a gate, that opened on the principal street, to the front door of the building. The house itself had been built entirely under the superintendence of a Mr. Richard Jones, whom we have already mentioned, and who, from a certain cleverness in small matters, and his willingness to exert his talents, added to the circumstance of their being sisters' children, ordinarily superintended all the minor concerns of Marmaduke Temple's business. Richard was fond of saying, that this child of his invention, consisted of nothing more nor less, than what should form the ground work of a clergyman's discourse; viz. a firstly, and a lastly. He had commenced his labours in the first year of their residence, by erecting a tall, gaunt edifice of wood, with its gable towards the highway. In this shelter, for it was but little more, the family resided for three years. By the end of that peri​od, Richard bad completed his design. He had availed himself, in this heavy undertaking, of the experience of a certain wandering, eastern mechanic, who, by exhibiting a few solid plates of English architecture, and talking learnedly of friezes, entablatures, and particularly of the composite order, had obtained a very undue influence over Richard's taste, in every thing that pertained to that branch of the fine arts. Not but what Mr. Jones affected to consider Mr. Hiram Doolittle a perfect empyric in his profession; being in the constant habit of listening to his treatises on architecture, with a kind of indulgent smile, yet, either from an inability to oppose them by any thing plausible from his own stores of learning, or from a secret admiration of their truth, Richard generally submitted to the arguments of his coadjutor. Together, they had not only erected a dwelling for Marmaduke, but had given a fashion to the architecture of the country. The composite order, Mr. Doolittle would contend, was an order composed of many others, and was intended to be the most useful, for it admitted into its construction such alterations as convenience or circumstances might require. To this proposition Richard very gravely assented; and it was by this unison in sentiment that the composite order, or a style of architecture that emanated from the carpenter's own genius, with a few suggestions from the other, became the fashion of the new county.
The house itself, or the "lastly," was of stone; large, square, formal, and far from uncomfortable. These were four requisites, on which Marmaduke had insisted with a little more than his ordinary pertinacity. But every thing else was peaceably resigned to Richard and his associate. These worthies found but little opportunity for the dis​play of their talents on a stone edifice, excepting in the roof and in the porch. The former, it was soon decided, should be made with four faces and a platform, in order to hide a part of the building that all writers agreed was an object that ought to be concealed. To this arrangement, Marmaduke objected the heavy snows that lay for months, frequently covering the earth to a depth of three or four feet. Happily, the facilities of the composite order presented themselves to effect a compromise, and the rafters were lengthened, so as to give a descent that should carry off the frozen element. But unluckily, some mistake was made in the admeasurement of these material parts of the fabric, and as one of the greatest recommendations of Hiram, was his ability to work by the "square rule," no opportunity was found of discovering the effect that was to be produced by this offspring of compound genius, until the massive timbers were raised, with much labour, on the four walls of the building. Then, indeed, it was soon seen, that, in defiance of all rule, the roof was by far the most conspicuous part of the edifice. Richard and his associate consoled themselves with the belief, that the covering would aid in concealing this unnatural elevation; but every shingle that was laid, was only multiplying objects to look at. Richard essayed to remedy the evil with paint, and four different colours were laid on by his own hands. The first was a sky-blue, in the vain expectation that the eye might be cheated into the belief, it was the heavens themselves that hung so imposingly over Marmaduke's dwelling; the second was, what he called, a "cloud-colour," being nothing more nor less than an imitation of light smoke; the third was what Richard termed an invisible green, which he laid on with a belief, that the deformity might be blended, ​with the back-ground of pines, that rose, in tall grandeur, but a short distance in the rear of the mansion house. But all these ingenious expedients entirely failed, and our artists relinquished the desire to conceal, and attempted to ornament, the offensive member. The last colour that Richard bestowed on the luckless roof, was a "sun-shiny yellow;" so called, both from its resemblance to, and its powers to resist, the rays of the great luminary. The platform, as well as the eves of the house, were surmounted by gaudily painted railings, and the genius of Hiram was exerted in the fabrication of divers urns and mouldings, that were scattered profusely around this part of their labours. Richard had originally a cunning expedient, by which the chimneys were intended to be so low, and so situated, as to resemble ornaments on the balustrades; but comfort required that the chimneys should rise with the roof, in order that the smoke might be carried off, and they thus became four extremely conspicuous objects in the view.
As this was much the most important undertaking in which Mr. Jones was ever engaged, his failure produced a correspondent degree of mortification. At first, he whispered among his acquaintances, that it all proceeded from ignorance of the square rule on the part of Hiram, but as his eye became gradually accustomed to the object, he grew better satisfied with his labours, and instead of apologizing for the defects, be commenced praising the beauties of the mansion house. He soon found hearers; and, as wealth and comfort are at all times attractive, it was made a model for imitation on a small scale. In less than two years from its erection, he had the pleasure of standing on the elevated platform, and of looking down on three humble imitators of its beauty.—Thus it is ​ever with fashion, which even renders the faults of the great, subjects of admiration.
Marmaduke bore this deformity in his dwelling with great good nature, and soon contrived, by his own improvements, to give an air both of respectability and comfort to his place of residence; still there was much of incongruity, even immediately about the mansion house. Although poplars had been brought from Europe to ornament the grounds, and willows and other trees were gradually springing up nigh the dwelling, yet many a pile of snow betrayed the presence of the stump of a mighty pine; and even, in one or two in— stances, unsightly remnants of trees that had been partly destroyed by fire, were seen rearing their black and glistening columns, for twenty or thirty feet above the pure white of the snow. These, which in the language of the country are termed stubbs, abounded in the open fields adjacent to the village, and were accompanied, occasionally, by the ruin of a pine or a hemlock that had been stripped of its bark, and which waved in melancholy grandeur its naked limbs to the blast, a skeleton of its former glory. But these unpleasant additions to the view were unnoticed by the delighted Elizabeth, who, as the horses slowly moved down the side of the mountain, saw only in gross, the cluster of houses that lay like a map at her feet; the fifty smokes, that were diagonally curling from the valley to the clouds; the frozen lake, as it lay embedded in mountains of evergreen, with the long shadows of the pines on its white surface, lengthening in the setting sun; the dark riband of water, that gushed from the outlet, and was winding its way already, towards the far distant Chesapeake—the altered, though still remembered, scenes of her childhood and of joy!
​Five years had here wrought greater changes, than a century would produce in older countries, where time and labour have given permanency to the works of man. To the young hunter and the Judge the scene had less of novelty; though none ever emerge from the dark forests of that mountain, and witness the glorious scenery of that beauteous valley, as it burst unexpectedly upon them, without a feeling of delight. The former cast one admiring glance from north to south, and then sunk his Face again beneath the folds of his coat; while the latter contemplated, with philanthropic pleasure, the prospect of affluence and comfort, that was expanding around him; the result of his own enterprise, and much of it, the fruits of his own industry.
The cheerful sound of sleigh bells, however, soon attracted the attention of the whole party, as they came jingling up the sides of the mountain, at a rate that announced both a powerful team and a hard driver. The bushes which lined the highway interrupted the View, and they were close upon this vehicle, before they discovered who were its occupants.