In March my husband wrote a letter of warm congratulation upon my success in gathering all our children together, and sent me a sum to be used in sending them to school. That I might aid my husband to mend our fortunes, I persuaded seven of my neighbors' children to take music lessons from me. The boys were entered to Mr. Gordon McCabe—the accomplished gentleman and scholar so well known and so popular in England as well as at home. My daughter Gordon entered an excellent school of which Professor Davis was principal. The older children had been taught by the Rev. William Hoge, who had been pastor of the Brick Church on Fifth Avenue, New York. They were well instructed in Greek, Latin, and mathematics, and eagerly embraced their new opportunities. Before we left Virginia Gordon graduated in her school, and the boys took honors of their accomplished preceptor,—Theo winning the first prize—the Pegram prize, ordained to commemorate Mr. McCabe's colonel, "who died with all his wounds in front." The children's father longed all the more—were that possible—for his home. He writes March 15:—
"Beg Gordon to apply herself diligently to my books—or what is left of them. She must read Wilson's 'Essay on Burns,' Macaulay's essays—Jeffrey, Wilson, and Sydney 292Smith. She must study Russell's 'Modern Europe,' and must read Pope, Cowper, and other poets. I wish her to be the most brilliant girl of the day. These accomplishments may stand her in better stead than others of mere display. McCabe will push the boys.
"I know I have written you despondent letters, but I do not despair! I am only depressed by my physical weakness and by my very great difficulties, but here I mean to stay! It is my last cast in the game of life, and if I fail now, all is lost. I am writing again for the News. I need the money to support us. The Law is so slow—so uncertain that I almost despair. If I had a little farm in the country and barely enough for existence, I would be content, provided I could have my family and the enjoyment of their society. You can have no idea how miserable is my life here. It is enough to make me crazy. I can hardly endure it. I do trust your Christian fortitude enables you to bear our misfortunes better than I can. You have the children! Roger has written me a sweet letter, for which I thank him. I trust they all care a little for me! Poor papa, so lonely and sad without his home! Kiss them all for me. I love them more than all the world."
The hour before the dawn is always, we are told, a dark hour. This was a dark hour indeed, but the dawn was near. Alas, there were yet many nights of darkness, many mornings of fitful dawning, before the sun rose clearly on better days! My husband's sensitive spirit responded as quickly to the humor of a situation as to pathos and tragedy. Very soon after the mournful letter I received the following:—
"'The Rebel Pryor' has had 'a rap' at last—a rap with no uncertain significance. I have had a call from a bona fide client! 293 "Quite unexpectedly this morning a stalwart and evidently brusque person entered, and accosting me asked, 'Is your name Pryor?' I had to acknowledge the damaging fact! 'Well,' he said, 'my name is "France." Ben Wood has sent me to you to argue a case I have in Court. Now I have as many lawsuits as any man in the United States, and experience has taught me never to retain a lawyer until we have agreed upon all I am to pay for his services.'
"To this I assented, but added that as I did not know what his case might be, I could not indicate any terms of employment.
"He replied, 'I live in Baltimore. I am at the head of all the Lottery business in the United States. My business has failed, and I'm trying to get discharge under your Two Thirds Act.' Now I had never heard of the Two Thirds Act, and had no notion what he meant, but this fact, you may be sure, I did not communicate to my intending client. At this point I made a bad break. I said, 'Mr. France, you know I have been practising in New York a very short time, and of course I am quite ignorant of the rate of charges here.' Instantly it occurred to me that he would draw an inference not only of my ignorance of fees, but of the law itself. Fortunately the reflection seemed to escape him. My object was, of course, to avoid designating the amount of the fee myself. I wanted to ask him fifty dollars, but I had a dreadful fear that the proposition would drive him out of the office, and I would not get even twenty-five,—which I would gladly have accepted. I begged him to name the fee, with the assurance of whatever it might be I would accept it.
"He answered, 'I never prize' (this he pronounced price) 'any man's labor.' Still I persisted in the endeavor to throw the burden of the offer upon him. He became angered, and fumed a bit, but finally said:—
"'Little Owen' (a very able English solicitor who has settled 294in New York in the practice of Bankruptcy and Insolvency proceedings)—'Little Owen has served all the citations and prepared all the other necessary papers, and all you will have to do will be to argue the question of my discharge on the return day of the motion, three weeks hence. Now—I will make with you the same agreement that I have made with Mr. Owen—which is five hundred dollars cash, and one thousand if you procure my application.'
"With the utmost dignity and appearance of reluctance I said, 'Mr. France, you have my word that I would accept any offer you might make, and of course I will agree to this sum, however inadequate the compensation may be.' Going down into his pockets he drew out five hundred dollars in notes, which he gave me, and which I am sending you through Bob McIlwane. Let me know when you receive it. I mean to win the thousand! Expect no more long letters! Between this hour and the day of argument I shall think of, dream of, no subject on earth but the Two Thirds Act!"
He argued the motion and won it. The court and lawyers treated him kindly, and the judge said, "It is a great privilege to hear a good argument from an able lawyer!" He was soon employed in other cases. His letters now exhibited the most hopeful temper. "I am overwhelmed," he wrote me, "with business for the Southern Express Company. It keeps me employed night and day, but so far has yielded me no money. I hope, however, eventually to get a fee that shall compensate me for all my labor, so I am encouraged to work on. I am sure of success! I feel it in me. Let us crowd all sail, and not languish in despair. Did you ever know any one who lived honestly, worked hard, and exerted competent talent to fail in any enterprise 295of life? I think we have competent ability; as for the rest I am certain; my health is perfect. The debility which so oppressed me is succeeded by perfect health and vigor."
And all because of the one-thousand-dollar fee (half of which he already owed) from Mr. France, the lottery dealer! Wherever he is,—and I trust he lives to read these words,—I have for him, now and always, my grateful blessing.
As for the Express Company,—the brilliant hopes from that quarter melted as does the baseless fabric of a dream. The company became hopelessly insolvent, and for the promised fee of three thousand dollars paid its hard-worked counsel nothing.
The winter of 1866-1867 was marked with fluctuating hopes and disappointments. The great labor in the interests of the Express Company had yielded nothing.
"The Express Company is insolvent beyond redemption [my husband wrote me]. This involves a loss to me of $3000—and again delays indefinitely the reunion with my family here. I am not dismayed, however, au contraire! My present impulse is to retrieve the loss by extraordinary exertions. Work, work, work, is my duty and destiny; your welfare the goal that beckons me on. I contemplate nothing else—I desire nothing else. I have been unanimously elected a member of the Manhattan Club,—an association for the purpose of social enjoyment,—but of course the expense is a formidable bar to me. I sometimes attend as Mr. Schell's guest, and I am received with great kindness.
"I have met Miss Augusta Evans, the authoress, and I am impressed with the goodness of her heart and her devotion 296to learning. Her appearance is extremely pleasing—brown hair, the color of yours—fair complexion—blue eyes (I think), a fine brow and well-developed head, a figure slight and graceful, and of your height. The expression of her countenance is serious, almost sad, though it lights up with the animation of talk. She is good, modest, sincere, pious. Her devotion to the 'lost cause' is fanatical. I think her mind is irregularly developed, but she has infinite ambition and will improve.
"I have also had the great pleasure of seeing Ristori and of being presented to her behind the scenes. Her acting is a revelation. I could not understand one word of her language, but her voice, her exquisite articulation, her expressive countenance and gestures, told the story eloquently to my uninstructed eyes and ears. How I longed for you! All pleasure must be, in your absence, poisoned for me.
"I have agreed to accept the defence of an unhappy Episcopal minister who was arrested in an omnibus for picking a lady's pocket! He was about to leave the stage when a voice arrested him: 'Stop that man! He has stolen my pocket-book.' The pocket-book was found upon him. It is by no means impossible that the thief may have dropped it in my client's pocket. So although he is miserably poor and can pay me nothing for my troub............