[Major Ben C. Truman, Divorced on the Desert, from Occidental Sketches (1881)]

 

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.

__________

            Andrew Jackson Hathaway, in 1849, was a well-to-do young farmer of Iowa, with a wife precisely such as a thriving young farmer should possess; a bright boy of twelve and a sweet-tempered daughter of between ten and eleven years of age constituted the two domestic idols of the Hathaway altar. Their names were, respectively, William Henry Harrison Hathaway and Janet Dalrymple Hathaway. The father of the elder Hathaway had served as a lieutenant under Jackson at New Orleans, and belonged to a prime family of Davidson County, Tennessee, which had formerly lived in Virginia, and had good revolutionary blood in its veins. Andrew Jackson Hathaway's father's helpmeet came from a representative Rhode Island family, and, according to the archives of Providence Plantations, a family renowned for its deeds of valor during the "times that tried men's souls." This little bit of pedigree has nothing much to do with the sketch that follows, although pedigree sometimes helps a man as it almost always does a horse. And, again, it is as well to show that our Hathaway family had a pedigree that any American might be proud of; for Mrs. Hathaway, too, came from good revolutionary stock, with an even divide of Massachusetts and South Carolina in the make-up. Her name was Vashti, she having been christened after an old maiden

40        OCCIDENTAL SKETCHES,

aunt of Fall River, Massachusetts. Andrew and Vashti grew up on neighboring farms in Ohio, where both William Henry and Janet Dalrymple were born. It may not be uninteresting right here to state that the young love that existed between Andrew and Vashti was not entirely uninterrupted — on account of the youth of the parties, however; nothing else — and, whether they cared or not whether the " Man in the Moon was Looking," they each kept an eye upon the nocturnal movements of " the old Stormer " (as Andrew felicitously nicknamed his sweetheart's suspecting sire), as night after night they exchanged sentiment, and something else, over the front yard gate.

            It was upon one of these delightful occasions that Andrew and Vashti had plighted their troth, as had Lucy and Lord Rutherford almost two centuries before, by breaking a silver coin between them, and had mutually invoked malediction on whichever of the two should be false to the compact.

            The reader will perceive now why the Hathaways named their daughter Janet Dalrymple. And it may not be out of place — indeed, it isn't—to state that, of all Scott's heroines, the " Bride of Lammermoor " is perhaps the most widely known. Her sad story, you know, is, in the main, true. The maiden's name was not Lucy, as Sir Walter has it, but Janet — Janet Dalrymple — who was a daughter of Lord Stair. She and Lord Rutherford had plighted their troth, had broken a silver coin between them, and had invoked malediction on whichever of the two should be false to the compact. The parents of Lady Janet vehemently insisted on her marrying Dunbar of Baldoon. The mother acted in the most cruel manner in forcing her daughter to this match. Janet, broken-hearted and helpless,

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.      41

managed to perfect an interview with her lover, and sobbed out a text from Numbers xxx, 2-5, as an excuse for her obedience to her imperious and unrelenting parents' commands. The lovers parted in sorrow — Rutherford in great anger, and Janet overwhelmed with grief. The former had not in him the spirit of Young Lochinvar, nor the latter the wit to run away with him. The poor thing was, in fact, badly frightened. She was carried to church to be wed in a semi-crazed and more than half dead state. At night a hurricane of shrieks came from her bridal chamber, where the bridegroom was found on the floor, profusely bleeding from a stab; and the bride sat near, in her night clothes, bidding those who had rushed to the scene, " Take up your bonny bridegroom !" Janet died in three weeks, insane. Dunbar of Baldoon recovered, but never opened his lips on the causes which led to the tragedy. Lord Rutherford, the lover, died childless in 1685. It was a queer fancy of the Hathaways ; this naming of Janet. Calling the boy after Harrison was entirely proper, and extremely American It is as well to state, to keep up the connection, that Andrew and Vashti were married at the home of the latter in Ohio, in 1835 ; Andrew's father and mother both died in 1840, and Andrew inherited the Hathaway farm. In 1846 he and his family moved to Iowa, and here Hathaway farmed it until the winter of 1849-50.

            It was a bitter cold day in December, 1849. The snow was piled six feet deep, on a level, and the mercury marked 24° below zero. That day Deacon Hathaway — for Andrew had joined the village church and had been made a pillar thereof — had two logging chains snapped into pieces by the intense old ; and the realization of some other mishaps

42        OCCIDENTAL SKETCHES.

made him red hot, although the atmosphere was unmistakably Siberian. Deacon as he was, Hathaway expectorated a multiplicity of Flanders oaths that day, and his arrival home was marked by no distinguishing exhibitions of serenity. Indeed, so exercised was Hathaway, that, while in the act of pulling off his boots, he got enraged and kicked one of them clean through the window. This little episode elicited a broad grin from William Henry, and the remark that he thought that Jackson — a white mule, not the head of the family — had kicked over the corn crib ; Janet glanced sympathetically at her mother — who had burst into tears simultaneously with the flight of the boot aforesaid — and then joined that good woman in her demonstration of grief. Andrew took in the domestic tableau at once ; and, dispatching William Henry for the boot, patted Vashti upon the forehead, and said :

            " I'm not mad at you, my dear, so don't cry."

            " I know you're not mad at me, Andrew," responded Mrs. Hathaway, "but you lose control of yourself so much, lately, that you make things very unpleasant at times. You ought to be ashamed of yourself — I say this very feelingly, Andrew, for I love you, oh, so very, very much — but here are Billy and Janny growing up so fast; and, my dear, you ought to at least set them no bad examples. Only a week ago you came home in another just such a fit, and ripped off both your back suspender buttons in your anger."

            " But, Vashti--"

            " Oh, you always have some excuse. I know things don't go always as you would like to have them ; but there's no use in your getting mad — and especially before the children. It nearly breaks Janny's heart to see you in a passion, and Billy, as

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.      43

you must have noticed, has already commenced to make fun of you. Another thing, now that we are on the subject, let me tell you, Andrew, that you are not only violent, and very violent, too, in your temper, at times, but you are very obstinately set in your ways. You never consult me, either, in any of your movements, and when you make up your mind to do a thing, nothing except disappointment or disaster can change you. Don't you think it would be better, first, to make me acquainted with your projects, or some of them, and let me put my little stock of wisdom and womanly plans together with your hopes and undertakings ? Two heads, you know, Andrew, are said to be better than one, and it strikes me that husband and wife should be full partners ; and it would be so pleasant, too. I want to share with you, as you ought to know, in all your pleasures and griefs, in all your prosperities and adversities. I want to be a part of you in all things, and at all times and places. I know you love me, and I know we get along pretty well, generally.  And, were it not for your quick temper and obstinacy, we would be the happiest couple in the world. Now, I say this from the most loving standpoint, Andrew, and I say it for your own good, and for the happiness and future prosperity of you, my dear husband, myself, and our dear, loving children."

            During this speech Mrs. Hathaway and Janet had prepared the evening meal ; William had plugged up the hole in the window with some castoff garment, and the family sat down to supper.

            The silence which followed Mrs. Hathaway's speech was broken by Janet, who inquired :

            " Papa, mamma says we are going to start for California in the spring. Is that really so ?"

44        OCCIDENTAL SKETCHES.

            " That is really so," responded Mr. Hathaway.

            " Yes, dear girl, we start for California in the spring," interrupted Mrs. Hathaway. " Your father apprized me of his intention a few days ago, and that settles it. Neither of us know anything about that far-off country, although the St. Louis papers are full of glowing descriptions of the beautiful land of flowers and gold. Lots of Iowa folks are going through in the spring, and I don't mind breaking up and going west once more."

            " They tell me that you can pick up gold in the rivers and on the roads out there in California," said William. "I don't believe that, but I do believe it's a better place than Iowa ; it is too cold here ; I don't like the winters here at all."

            " You are right, William," remarked Mr. Hathaway, " The winters in California are as mild as they are in Florida, so Fremont says, and that is one reason why I want to go there. It is an old saying that a rolling stone gathers no moss, I know, and it may be a true one ; but I have rolled so long, and so often, that I am going to try it once more. From the little I can glean from the newspapers, and from other sources of information, I am of the opinion that it is just the country for us to go to."

            Spring came, and May found the Hathaways, with two good teams and wagons, half a dozen steers, two or three cows, two saddle horses, and a good stock of provisions, on their way to California.

            The little party had good luck, losing none of their stock except the cows, and meeting neither hostile Indians nor thieving white men.

            From the moment the party crossed the Missouri river, however, Hathaway's mode of action was never interfered with with any degree of success. He consulted neither Mrs. Hathaway nor any other

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.      45

living person. He made and broke camps when and wherever he pleased ; watered his stock whenever he saw fit, and sought advice of no one or no thing except a map and a dial.

            Upon leaving Salt Lake Mrs. Hathaway hazarded a suggestion touching a choice of roads, and William Henry rallied to the support of his mother ; Janet, however, stood by her father, and the mother and son yielded. But Mrs. Hathaway said :

            " As we are evenly divided in our opinion as to which is the best road, Andrew, I will yield, as I always do ; but I would like to ask you one question : Suppose I had not yielded my preference, and suppose Billy and Janny had preferred my road, what would you have done under the circumstances ? "

            " What would I have done ? Why, my good woman, I would have gone right on just as I am — just as if no one were here but myself. I am at the head of this expedition, and it must go my way. I don't propose to take advice from an old woman and a couple of children in this section of the wilderness — not as the roads are. I don't consider your judgment good in the premises, however much you may consult authorities. I have got a map and a general description of the country through which we are traveling, and I am going to stick to that compass if I never reach California."

            " Why, Andrew ! "

            " No, there's no why, Andrew ! about it. It is common sense decision and there can't be any appeal. I'll say this, though : whenever in your wisdom, you deem my course of pilgrimage uncertain or unsatisfactory, you can go some other way or take the back track altogether ; and you may take the whole outfit with you, except the poorest

46        OCCIDENTAL SKETCHES.

saddle horse you can pick out. Now, I want you to remember, once for all, Vashti, that I am infernally tired of your fault-finding and suggestions. I am determined to have my own way. Whenever you want to go contrary to my way, let us separate."

            " Why, Andrew Hathaway, what a speech !" ejaculated the wife. "Why, the children themselves are amazed at you." And all sobbed bitterly except that obstinate man, Andrew Jackson Hathaway.

            It was several days before perfect harmony again prevailed in the Hathaway camp, which, however, when it did set in, lasted until the party arrived at a point on the Humboldt desert, where the Lassen trail intersects that of the Carson.

            At this point there had congregated some forty odd persons, all of whom but Hathaway had concluded to take the Lassen trail. Mrs. Hathaway was aware that her husband's map pointed out the Carson road as the one to be followed. She, however, preferred the Lassen trail for the reason that a good crowd was going that way ; and, further, because both William and Janet had besought her to prevail upon their father to change his mind. Thus fortified, Mrs. Hathaway approached her husband, who was seated upon a pile of blankets, repairing a bridle.

            It was a lovely morning in September, and all things in nature seemed to smile. The imperial orb rode up the eastern sky and flung its splendors upon the majestic Sierra, which rose like battlements before it. There was inspiration in the scene and sublimity in the solitude of that vast landscape untouched by hand of art.

            Mrs. Hathaway opened the conversation by saying, in dulcet tones :

            " Andrew, I was just thinking, as I gazed upon

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.      47

those magnificent elevations before us, of the greatness of God. I have been in the most perfect state of enchantment for an hour, not only in surveying the mountains before us and the desert behind us, but meditating upon the conspicuous creations of our Heavenly Father. I never felt my littleness so much before ; and, in the contemplation of the mysteries which transcend the scope of earthly penetration, I recall an anecdote of your father's, the effect of which has for many years been engraved upon the tablets of my heart — I mean the one he used to tell of old John Randolph of Virginia. Randolph was walking, one evening, accompanied by a favorite boy, you remember. All at once, arrested by a magnificent sunset in that incomparable section of Virginia known as the Shenandoah Valley, he violently seized the nigger and said : ' Sam, if any man ever tells you there is no God, tell him that John Randolph says he lies !' The same sentiment seems to take possession of me as I gaze upon the Sierra Nevada Mountains. By the by, Andrew, there is a, man in the party here who has made the trip over the Sierra several times. He calls the mountains before us the rim of the golden valley, but says there is no time to be lost in getting over them, as the snow generally commences to descend in October, and sometimes falls to a depth of twenty odd feet. I wish you would have a little chat with him after you have mended that bridle, as he is greatly opposed to the Carson road. He says it is all dust and alkali. "

            " He does, eh ? Well, you just tell Mr. Knows-It-All that I like dust and alkali, and for that very reason, if for no other, I am going to take the Carson road. I half thought your John Randolph story and other utterances were a blind to get at

48        OCCIDENTAL SKETCHES.

the softer part of me, but you can't do it," replied Hathaway, roughly.

            " But," said Vashti, feelingly, " Billy and Janet both want to go by the Lassen trail. The whole party, in fact, start off in that direction in an hour."

            "All right, let them start ; that don't interfere with my plans in the least. My map directs me to go by the Carson road, and I am going that way if I go alone."

            " Then you may go alone, Andrew Hathaway !" said Vashti, with unmistakable force and composure.

            " What you take the Lassen trail and I the Carson ?"

            " That is precisely the situation, unless you consent to yield for once in your life, Mr. Hathaway," rejoined Vashti.

            " And William and Janet, they—?"

            " Go with their mother by the Lassen trail," added Mrs. Hathaway.

            " But you will become the laughing-stock of the whole party."

            " You are the laughing-stock of the whole party, and I am heartily ashamed of you."

            " But this is a serious turn affairs have taken, and you may regret it," said Andrew.

            " It is most serious, Mr. Hathaway, and I regret that circumstances force me to act as I do," replied his wife.

            " Then do as I want you to. I would rather stay right here all winter than take the Lassen trail."

            " And I would remain right here all winter and the summer following before I would go one foot by the Carson road. My mind is made up ; I propose to start in an hour. What do you say ?"

            " I say you go your way and I will go mine."

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.      49

            In less than an hour Mrs. Hathaway and her two children were on the Lassen road, and Andrew, astride of an old saddle horse, moved off sorrowfully in another direction. Neither party looked back until a gap of many miles had been opened, each expecting that the other would yield. At last, Andrew turned his animal about, and, to his utter astonishment, no living object met his gaze in that vast expanse. His heart sank within him ; great, scalding tears chased each other down his rugged cheeks ; despair took possession of his soul, and the miserable man cried in agonizing accents :

            " Divorced on the desert ! My God! what have I done ?"

            Then he wheeled about and pursued his course, the very incarnation of misery. Once he turned and rode a mile or two on a canter the other way. But the mountain breezes blew the dust before him, and he at times became completely enveloped in clouds of alkali sand and other sedimentary matter. With nerves and reason almost shattered he went into camp weary and alone the first night of the separation. In the meantime, Mrs. Hathaway and her children had joined the party that had started in advance of them, and had got along as pleasantly as could have been expected under the circumstances. William firmly believed that his father would join them during the night, and when morning came and found him not, he burst into tears and wept bitterly. The mother was overwhelmed with grief, but only once did she give way to her feelings, and that was when Janet, at breakfast, said :

            " I dreamed so much of my papa, last night. Oh, my poor, dear papa; I wonder where he is ? '

            These words went like daggers to the wife's

50        OCCIDENTAL SKETCIIE8.

heart, and then she wished to God that she had taken the Carson trail. She even went so far as to consult with her son upon the feasibility of returning; but William opposed such a course as adding folly to folly. In about a month Mrs. Hathaway and her children arrived at Sacramento in good health, and without the loss of an animal. She sold her entire outfit for several hundred dollars ; which amount, added to the thousand odd that she had safely tucked away in the lining of her dress, she invested in furniture, etc., and at once set up business as a hotel keeper. By dint of industry and perseverance, coupled with flush times in and about Sacramento, Mrs. Hathaway not only made lots of money, but really amassed a fortune. Up to 1852 both William and Janet assisted her in her household duties. Then she put them both to school, where Janet remained until she graduated with honor. In 1857 William, who had clerked it with success at Marysville, went to San Francisco and engaged in the hardware business for himself, and married a Boston lady the following year. Janet, in 1858, married a rich farmer of Santa Clara County, and has lived to see children and grandchildren grow up around her. Mrs. Hathaway still lives, residing with her daughter at San Jose.

            Andrew met with hard luck from the start. The third day after his separation his horse fell down and died, and he footed it into the mines of Northern California, taking out his first dust on the Feather River. Once he accumulated over $5,000, and built a saw mill, which was in a few months after destroyed by a storm. Then he again got together a few thousands of dollars, and commenced merchandising in Grass Valley, but a fire soon

DIVORCED ON THE DESERT.      51

swept all of his property away. Then he went down into Southern California, and from there he drifted into New Mexico. At the commencement of the late hostilities between the North and the South, Hathaway was driving a stage coach in Texas. He at once joined the Confederate army, and was severely wounded at Pea Ridge while commanding a company in a regiment under Ben McCullough. He was again wounded at Chickamauga under Longstreet, and was subsequently taken prisoner in Virginia, and sent to Columbus, Ohio. In 1866, although fifty-one years of age, he joined the Fourteenth United States Infantry as a private, and once more came to California. For twelve long years Hathaway again drifted about on the Pacific Coast, never hearing a word of his family — William having retired from business and gone to Europe a long time before — until one day in September, 1878, when he saw some mention of his wife's name in a San Jose paper.

            As may be imagined, he made no delay in ascertaining the whereabouts of his long-lost beloved ; and, on the 19th of September, 1878, just twenty-eight years from the day he was " divorced on the desert," his feeble steps carried him to the house that contained his wife. He rung the bell, and old Mrs. Hathaway answered the summons herself. Mutual recognition was instantaneous; and, without explanations, the aged couple hugged and kissed and blessed each other.

            Then they rehearsed their histories from the time they broke camp in the Humboldt desert twenty-eight years before. Andrew told in detail the stories of his unfortunate career, and Mrs. Hathaway briefly recited her successes, not forgetting to inform her husband how she had never retired at night

52        OCCIDENTAL SKETCHES.

without praying God to return him to her once more.

            " And, now that we are reunited," said Mrs. Hathaway, with an affected air of earnestness, " I want to ask you one question."

            " What is it, my darling, what is it ?" cried the old man, in accents of tenderness and love.

            " How did you find the Carson road? "

            " Miserable, Vashti, miserable — all sand and alkali! "

            Then they embraced each other again, and were again united, after having been, twenty-eight years before, " DIVORCED ON THE DESERT."