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VOL. I.]
'THE WASHINGTONIAN.
PUBLISHED BY JAMES McCAFFERTY,
TWICE EVERY MONTH.
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WASHINGTON
Total Abstinence Society of Augusta.
OFFICERS:
Dr. Joseph A. Eve, President.
Rev. Wm. T. Bkantly, Vice-President.
Wm. Hmnes, Jr.,Secretary and Treasurer.
Manager)—James Harper, Dr. F. M. Robertson, E. W'
Tolman, Jesse Walton, James W. Whitlock, William
Shear, C. C. Taliaferro.
[From the Tee-Totalcr.]
WILLIAM CARL.ETON,
OR, THE REFORMED DRUNKARD.
BY P. W. LEL.4NP.
In the Spring of 18*20, there came tothe village
of M., in the state of Massachusetts, a man whom
1 shall designate as William Carleton. lie was
just at his majority, and had fixed on M. as an
eligible place for prosecuting the business of his
calling —that of a nouse carpenter.
He was a noble looking man, and something
above the mcJi_m height, stout built, and (tosscs*-
ing a countenance such as a sculptor would not
disdain to look upon. His education was much
above the common standard ; and his manners
those of a well-bred man. In his intercourse with
others, there was an open, hearty frankness,
which made him no less accessible than accepta
ble to all with whom he came in contact. Carle
ton was, besides, an excellent mechanic; tho
roughly versed in all the mysteries of his calling,
and endowed with a power of despatch never
lieforc witnessed among the |>eople of his adopted
village. If he laid by less of nis earnings than
, others in a similar walk of life; if the fruits of
his labors were not always cared for, it was be
cause he was more generous, or less penurious
than others—it was because he sought money
rather as a means than as an end. Still, Carleton
was a thriving man, and the resources of future
usefulness and support gradually accumulated on
his hands.
Three years later than the date here given, I
attended Carleton’s wedding. He had engaged
the affections of Caroline §., the daughter, and
only child of a respectable widowed lady of M.
A finer looking, happier pair, I never saw before
the hymeneal altar. The bride scarcely nine
teen, tastefully, yet not gaudily dressed, modest,
yet not bashful, entered with a light, yet impos
ing step, gracefully hanging upon the arm of the
stately young carpenter. There was health in
her finely dcvelojied form, and there was glad
ness in her rich blue eyes. The happiness of the
present, the pleasing anticipations of the future,
beamed brightly in her countenance, and reveal
ed the workings of a heart full of hope and devo
tion.
Carleton was not less an object of admiration.
His open, manly brow, loaded with rich curls of
dark hair; his full mellow eyes and elegantly
turned mouth, stamped him at once as a faultless
specimen of humanity, created in the image of
his Maker.
Two years later, and I wa* a guest at the house
of Carleton. Caroline had become a mother—
the mother of a beautiful boy. She was the pic
ture of contentment. Her maiden smile still sat
An her lips—her bright blue eyes had grown yet
brighter still, and her step was light and buoyant
as on the day of her wedding. Carleton was all
life, health and activity. Happy in the bosom of
his little family, respected by all; and full of hope,
he gave a new impulse to all around him. His
-clear head made him a safe counsellor, and his
veady wit a brilliant companion. In a word, he
had become the master spirit of M.
Five years rolled away, and I had not seen
■Carleton. In 1830, accident once more threw
me into the village of M. I there met Carleton,
and a warm and hearty meeting it was; yet he
was not precisely the man I had parted with five
years before. He was, I thought, less self-pos
sessed, less energetic, and less guarded in his
conversation. His bumor seemed coawer, and
in his manner there was a sort of dashing light
ness, not exactly in keeping with his former
character. His eyes, too, I thought, had lost
something of their wonted brilliancy, and the
color in his face appeared deeper than at our last
interview. Yet so many years had elapsed since
our meeting, changes were to be expected, and
besides, there was so much of the frank William '
Carleton still left, and liiv observations at the i
moment, resulted in no unwelcome suspicions.
I n the course of our short interview, old recollec
tions were revived, old scenes rehearsed, and
new subjects introduced. Carleton was so bril
liant, so happy, and so much like bis former self,
that at the end ot an hour I had quite forgotten
the embryo impressions excited at the moment of
greeting.
In the evening I was at his house. If my at
tention had been arrested, on meeting Carleton,
by some undefinable alteration in bis apjiearancc,
it was doubly so when Caroline nr Mrs. Carleton
made her appearance in the sitting room. She
was cheertul, Imt her cheerfulness seemed rather
forced than spontaneous. Her brow was slightly
clouded, and her beautiful blue eyes appeared
more fixed and cast down than formerly. She
affected to he gay, hut evidently it required an
effort to he so. There was too, an appearance of
marked submission, mingled with tear in her
manner, altogether unlike her wonted, hearty
ebullitions of feeling. 1 thought I could perceive,
also, that when her eyes met those of Carleton
there was an apjiearance of something like
shrinking, or restraint, as though there were
certain bounds beyond which she dare not pass.
AH certainly was not right. I noticed again the
unnatural flush oil Carleton’s face. It was now
more apparent than at our meeting in the morn
ing. A sudden conviction of the truth Hashed
across mv mind. 1 did not embody the idea; 1
gave it not language, but there it was enthroned
like a demon; and as ineffaceable as the impress
of eternal truth —Carleton was a drunkard!
Os the terrible truth, I obtained evidence
enough on the following morning; I need not
repeat it here. I left the village, and saw no
more of him for several years; and when subse
quently I did, he was a perfect wreck, both in
[icrsoii and in fortune. Indeed, i never saw a
more disgusting lump of humanity. Bloated,
filthy and brutish, he had been at different times
an inmate of the work-house, the jail and house
of correction, from all which he came forth seven
fold more a monster of depravity than when he
entered either. Poor Caroline! she had drained
the cup of wretchedness to the verv dregs! She
had been driven from her pleasant home—
her furniture and wardrobe, piece after piece had
passed out of her possession, till at last she and
her little boy were tenants of a miserable hovel
in a remote corner of her native town. To their
abode Carleton would at times find his way; and
there, instead of meeting frowns and reproaches,
instead of being repulsed and driven from her
door, as an outcast and a scourge, she, who in
the budding hour of womanhood had sworn
fidelity and love before the altar of God, extend
ed to the lost inebriate the hand of affection and
kindness. There , he who had sunk in the scale
of humanity, even lower than the most degraded
of his species, was warmed and nourished by the
very being whose hopes and aspirations he had
forever crushed. Woman! thou art indeed an
enigma! All weakness, when danger appears
in the distance, but indomitable in the hour of
trial!
From the lips of Mrs. Carleton herself, 1 learnt
the sickening story of her long years of suffering
and wretchedness, yet in the recital, not one un
kind expression, not a single term of reproach,
escaped her lips while speaking of her husband.
For his conduct she offered no excuse—nothing
in palliation of his dreadful course of life, and
whatever might have been her hopes, she gave
utterance to no expectation that he would ever
again return to the sober walks of life. The rich
overflowing of her buoyant heart seemed forever
dried up, or crushed beneath a load of misery, for
whose alleviation, time, the last prop of the
wretched, had brought none of its healing balm.
With this interview closed my acquaintance
with this once interesting family. Years rolled
away, and I had ceased entirely to think of their
condition, except at long intervals, when some
kindred incident called to mind the ruin of those
in whose welfare I accidentally acquired no in
considerable interest. In a word, they became
to me as though they had never been.
In the course of last summer, I had occasion to
visit the interior of Massachusetts. Arriving,
near night fall, at a small town in the county of
repose, I drew up at a somewhat uninviting pub
lic house, the only one in the village, where I
ordered supper and demanded accommodations
for the night. I noticed a considerable concourse
of the people about the house and in the public
room, and from the conversation going on, learnt
there was to be a temperance lecture that evening
at the town house, standing a few rods distant
from the hotel at which I stopped. I inquired of
my host who was to. address the meeting, whe
ther a townsman of his or a stranger 1
A Stranger, I reckon, was the reply We
have none of that sort o’ animal in this town;
OR
AUGUSTA, GA. JUNE 20, 1842.
folks here mind their own business.
Do you know the name ofthc lecturer 1 was my
nextinquiry.
1 hav nt asked, was the laconic answer; and
the publican turned into his bar to serve a etts/o
mcr to a glass of brandy.
By this time the room was nearly full. Some
were drinking, and others ridiculing the great
temperance movement, of which they had heard
much and seen something. I soon perceived,
however, that the cause had made little or no
pthgrcss here, and 1 was well satisfied on another
|Miint, that those present, at least were determin
ed it should not; yet I was pleased to notice
when the hour arrived, that nearly all made
tljcir way to the town-house; some perhaps to
create disturbance, and others to while away an
i(|e hour, before their last glass for the night.
With the crowd, I passed over and took my
slat in a remote corner of the building. The
house was soon filled to overflowing. The body
of it was taken |iossession of by a large concourse
of ladies, while the outer seats and galleries were
otcopied mostly by men and boys. Near the
"pin entrance, in the broad aisle, within the
bidding, stood some twenty or thirty rough look
iijg men, with long beards, poorly clothed, nnd
njani testing that sort of breeding usually picked
up in grog-shops and low drinking-houses. The
\ltlgar merriment, and their overstrained attempts
i wit, were insufferably disgusting. But what
ieved me most, was to see the Female part of
e audience often join in the half-suppressed
ugh which their miserable levity would at times
ovoke, instead of discountenancing their ill
ned and shameful violations of propriety. But
is scene was of short duration; for in the very
!iidst ofthe joking and jeering, the lecturer made
is appearance, in company with a respcatable
>oking gentleman, who I afterwards understood
ras a citizen of the town.
i“ Make way for the steam engine!” cried one
f the persons standing in the aisle, as the lcctur
r was passing through thecrowd.
i “ Now for a cataract of cold water 1” exclaimed
& companion at his elbow.
“Landlord,” shouted a third, “give us a nipper
of gin cock-tail, with a tommahawk in it!”
This last attempt at wit produced a general
laigh, which died away in a low titter along the
side galleries.
la the mean time the lecturer mounted the lit
tle cesk at the farther end ofthc hall. Me was a
large, elegantly formed, middle aged man, with
dark hair and dark eye-brows, beneath which
rolled a full mellow pair of eyes, as clear as a liv
ing, undisturbed fountain of water. He surveyed
the audience for a moment, then stepping it|>on
the raised platform, brought himself to a speaking
attitude within the niche ofthe desk before him.
His commanding figure arrested every eye; all
tumult ceased, and each member, as if spell
bound, suddenly became as silent and motionless
as would have been so many marble statues.
“ I am here,” commenced the speaker, in a
clear, strong, yet musical tone of voice, slightly
ir.clining his body over the desk, “ I am here to
relate the history of a drunkard; of a drunkard
who, during long years of unmitigated inebria
tion, passed through all grades of numan exist
ence, from ease and alfluence, down to the lowest
depths of poverty and wretchedness. In a word,
your speaker is here to relate the history of his
own degradation.”
With this simple exordium, followed by a few
other observations, the lecturer entered upon the
recital of the incipient steps of his career of ulti
mate inebriation, detailing in all the simplicity of
truth, the effect produced on himself, on his
standing, and finally on his wife and family.
Before tnc expiration of the first halfhour, every
thing but the speaker and his subject had been
forgotten, and as he went on, his own sober ear
nestness began to show itself on the feelings of
the audience. While recounting his first devia
tions from the path of sobriety—the stated drams,
and the gradual formation of that habit, which,
in the end, overwhelmed him and all concerned
wita him in one common vortex of ruin—those
poor fellows standing in the aisle, to whom I have
be fire referred, one after another began to near
the speaker, till, without concert, or knowing
why, they formed one compact group directly in
froit, and almost in reach of the lecturer. Such
a stene I had never before witnessed, and I trem
bled, I confess, lest he who had raised the storm
should be unable to control it and direct it to the
end for which it had been excited. I was mista
ke!. Every new effort was crowned with new
suaess.
At length he spoke of the wrongs which in
tenperance had heaped on the heads and hearts
of women. He related with thrilling minuteness
th« miseries which his own wife had endured—
painted in language as dark and gloomy as the
subject itself—the damp, lonely hovel in which
foi years he had resided in the midst of poverty
and wretchedness, and then, as if suddenly ue-
polled I)}' an irresistible flood of inspiration, gave
utterance to one of the most thrilling and lofty
panegyrics on woman 1 ever heard. As he enu
merated their virtues—their patient endurance of
wrong —their angelic meekness in the hour of
affliction—their boldness in I lie midst of danger—
their constancy, and more than all, their npver
dying hope; his flight was fearfully grand, like
mountain piled on mountain, while every hearer
sat in breathless silence to catch the towering
climax of bis brilliant display of eloquence and
panegyric. For my own part, 1 was wholly un
prepared for this effort on the part ofthe sjrcakcr.
I trembled at the giddy height to which lie had
mounted, and sat with my hands grasping the
railing, expecting every moment to see him buried
under the weight of his own gorgeous enconium;
but at this moment ofintensc anxiety,the speaker
suddenly paused on the very summit of his effort,
and casting up his eyes, exclaimed, in a tone
even painful from its clearness and energy—
“ Merciful God! what an inexhaustible fountain
of kindness and benevolence hast thou created in
the heart of woman!”
The effect was electrical. A slight stir through
out the house indicated the relief of the audience,
and I doubt whether, in a moment after, there
was a tearless eye in that heterogeneous assem
bly. For my own part, I wept like a child. So
brilliant was the picture he had drawn, so giddy
the height to which he had carried himself, and
so .easy, and yet so majestic his descent, that at
the instant of relief 1 started to my feet, and in
a moment after found myself standing in a sido
aisle, within a few feet of this orator.
The first sentence uttered after this change of
position arrested my attention. The sound of
the speaker’s voice seemed familiar, I cast a
scrutinizing glance at his countenance—and
another, and another—my heart was in my throat
—the lecturer was William Carleton!
At the moment of recognition I forgot myself—
forgot every thing. Here was the very man
whom years before 1 had seen in the lowest depths
of degradation, a burthen upon society, a dis
grace to his species, anil an object of pity to all
who had known him in his better days. Here
he stood before me, redeemed, an apostle of tem
perance, drawing tears from all eyes, and capti
vating all hearts.
On recovering once more the current of the
discourse, I found'the speaker making an appeal
to the intemperate to come forward and put their
names to the reformed drunkard’s constitution,
a copy of which lay upon the table before him.
He gave a plain unvarnished account ofthe rise
and progress of this new movement; spoke ofthe
hundreds of thousands to which the long cata
logue of the ransomed had swollen along the
shores ofthe Atlantic, and wound up by urging,
once and again, all, however low or debased, to /
begin that night the glorious work ofreform.
And now commenced a scene of thrilling in
terest. From every part of the house, men, and
even women, eagerly pressed towards the table.
The old inebriates already pointed out whose
bodies had been for years steeping in liquid Arc,
and young men just on the threshold of destruc
tion, one after another, placed their names on
that strange document. It was a grand sight to
behold women leading up their husbands, fathers
their sons, and sisters their brothers. All fear of
ridicule was forgotten; conviction had overcome
every other consideration; the head and the heart
were for the first time, perhaps for many years,
found in harmony, and men did the bidding of
their consciences as in the days of Paul and Tiis
associates. Even the landlord shed tears.
I need not describe my interview with Carleton
that night. We both stayed at the same house,
occupied the same room, and except a slight tinge
ot melancholy, I found him the same noble spirit
ed fellow he was at our meeting twenty years
before. On the following morning we parted, he
to labor elsewhere in the great cause to which he
was devoting every thought, and I to pursue a
tiresome journey over the almost interminable
hills of Berkshire.
On my return, I could not resist the temptation
to take M. in my way, though some twenty miles
out of my direct route. I found Mrs. Carleton
as described to me by her husband on the night
of our unexpected meeting at . She was
all life and animation. Her soft blue eyes had
regained their wonted lustre, and the rich glow
of her cheeks, a little mellowed by time anil sor
row, indicated that all was now right, both with
in and without. They had returned to the iden
tical house formerly occupied by them; and their
once beautiful little boy, just now on the verge of
manhood, was busy at work in his father’s shop.
Their happiness was complete. And now, gen
tle reader, we will take leave of William Carle
ton, the reformed drunkard , adding only, that
the true original of the foregoing tale, is now in
one of the Middle States, laboring with un
bounded success in the great cause to which
Providence has so signally called him.
[Mo. 2.