Utica Free Academy - Academician Yearbook (Utica, NY)

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The Absent Portrait H HE winter of 18- had been a most trying one for me in theprofession. Never had the hospitals been more- crowded, nor 'had the cases seemed more hopelessly intricate, and much as I loved the work, the awful strain was telling. on me. So it was, that, when a letter. arrived from old r ' 'college chum, Richard Ainsworth, inviting me to spend a Couple of months with him at his old home near Salem, I gladly accepted the much-needed opportunity for rest and recreation, besides being delighted at the prospect of seeing my old friend, Dick, again., , The Ainsworths' place had proved to be a large, well-kept farm, known as The Elms, with a magnificent, old-fashioned country-house, parts of which were almost two centuries old. The first two weeks of my stay 'had provided excellent weather, so that most of the time had been consumed out-of-doors, in long excursions, or simply delightful laziness. But at length one rainy day, when we were obliged to stay in doors, Dick planned for me a long-promised treat, a more thorough eX- amination of the curious old mansion, with its many nooks and hidden crannies, and in particular a minute inspection of the old library, with all the family relics it contained. T Accordingly I passed through massive and curious old chambers, revelled in the fine old works of art and the magnificent plate which were family heirlooms, and imbibed all the ancient beauty of the- place. . T But for beauty, richness, antiquity and historical interest, the library, with. its collection of books, old and new, its massive carved furniture, its family portraits and relics, was indeed a 'revelation to one who had always lived so much in the present as myself. With almost every portrait there was a story to relate, some characteristic of the individual, pleasing' or otherwise. The walls were covered entirely with the por- - I ' i201

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them, H And with a feint in octave, he cut a piece off from the captain 's coat. H HI have your ruffles upon my point, observe. The comedy played between these two was dreadful in its detail. One by one, Gervais cut the rufflesoff from his adver- sary's shirt, and touched him with his points upon the arms' and breast. Finally, when a rush of men was heard in the hall, the dead guard having probably been found, and the alarm given, Gervais ran his man through the heart, crying: Revenge! - G He wiped his dripping sword upon the bedclothes, and opening the casement, looked out upon the snow-covered ground below him. There he saw the figure of a man -holding two horses. ,By this time the soldiers had arrived at the captain's door, and receiving no answer to their. calls, had begun to beat the door in. 'Then Gervais began to wonder how he was to reach his friend below.. Was he -to be caught and hanged after all? He dismissed that thought and deter- mined to jump, trusting to land in a big bank of snow, beneath the window. Thendrop fromlthe casement to the snow below was a high one, but, since life was at stake, he did not hesitate. The woodwork was flying in splinters, and he could see the great door yielding under the assault' of the menf He thought of the risk of jumping, he might strike a buttress anywhere, but in the yielding snow. But as the door gave at last, and furious soldiers rushed in, he sprang into the air. 4 It seemediages to him before he struck the ground, and the sensation was not at all pleasant. But he -landed H--safely in a .snow-bank. After getting his breath, he crawled out and shook himself. His friend, the trooper grasped his hand, and then helped him upon his horse. Amid a volley of muskets, the two leaped forward, and galloped into the night. G At noon, the next day, Gervais and the trooper were safe in Angonlaine. r ' -24 ..

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,. , , .,, ,I pi, '.,,,,- - ,gr-,zfjp ai ' traits of those who had been, during their life-time, masters or mistresses of The Elms, and in surrounding cabinets, were treasures of each generation, a bit of old rare china from one, ga silk fan from another, a sword from another, and so on. There was even a tiny pair of hand-embroidered mocassins .and a bag of bead-work in one compartment, testifying to the tastes of some early Ainsworth dame. ' I i There was one conspicuosly blank spaceon the wall, to which I could not help calling my friend 's attention, inasmuch as every other available inch, was utilized, andin fact' the pictures from the last two generations had been hung in a little .adjoining room, containing, for the most part, old records and documents. 5 Ah, said my friend, Hthat blank space is kept- in' our family hall, in loving remembrance 'of one who should have been mistress of 'The Elmsf but upon whom the shadow of a terrible superstition fell, causing her to be an alienfrom friendsand family. You must be weary of looking and examin- ing, sit down here before the fire-place and I will tell you all that I know of Charity Ainsworth, who alas, never succeeded to her true position in the history of this house. 7 ' . So there, lost in the comfortable recesses of a great leather :arm-chair, before the curious old fire-place, where the dancing light and shadow ofa roaring fireseemed to reveal all the ancient secrets and treasures of the weird room, I was carried back, by my friend's narrative, to a time of early colonial struggles, and frontier hardships, before even the shadow' of .a separation between Great Britain, and the colonies-to that black year of 1692, the saddest in the whole history of New England. Charity Ainsworth was the only child of most intelligent :and loving parents, loving, yet possessing all the strictness of the Puritans, who lived in the fear of God and the rightousness of man. A I-Ier childhood and girlhood had been comparatively free from hardships which many had encountered, and up to her sixteenth year ,but one cloud had darkened her horizon. That was the loss of her friend and comrade from babyhood, Philip ...gg-