The Silver Bottle; or, The Adventures of Little Marlboro in Search of His Father

by J. H. Ingraham

  `That is a long way back, my dear sir; no register remains for the period.— What do you wish to refer to?'

  `The name of a gentleman who with his lady put up there that summer. It is important that I should ascertain it!'

  `Then you don't know it?'

  `No, sir.'

  `And how then will you ascertain what you wish?' he said smiling.

  `I know the initials,' I answered.

  `Ah, that is better. What is your object in searching for names so far back.'

  `It is connected with some family matters,' I answered, embarrassed for a reply.

  `Well, well, I will see. There is no register, but my books will show. What are the initials of the person you are inquiring for?'

  `F. R. M.'

  The kind host, with a look in which surprise and curiosity were mingled, began to examine an old account book brought to him from a dusty top shelf in the office, and after running his eye down the column of M's, while I was trembling with hopes and fears, he stopped, placing his finger upon a name. Before he could utter it I was at his side looking over his shoulder. My quick glance rested on the name at which his finger had paused. It was, `F. R. Marlborough. '

  I stood perfectly transfixed with astonishment. It was the very name by which I had been so singularly christened! What wonderful relation of circumstances could have produced such a coincidence! I was speechless with amazement. The reader will remember that I happened to be christened by Dame Darwell `Little Marlboro',' because the caps that were left for me by those who had abandoned me were wrapped in a torn leaf of a singing book, on which chanced to be the well known tune of `Little Marlboro'!'

  And now, by a surprising coincidence the name I had been in search of as my father's, turned out to be Marlboro! By what mysterious ordering of events had this thing happened! I now felt a superstitious impression that this person was indeed my father!'

  After a little recovering my self-possession, I said with considerable emotion—

  `Sir, this must be the name I seek. I know not how to express my obligations to you for your kindness in taking this trouble. Will you be so good as to examine the account to which this refers. It is page 335!'

  He turned to the page. The bill was made out to F. R. Marlboro, and lady, and servant, (colored male servant) charging them with three weeks board.— My proofs were augmented by this discovery. Here was the party that had stopped at Dame Darwell's. I had, however, yet to discover what I had turned to the account in search of, viz.: the residence. I was in hopes it might possibly have been witten in the bill. But it was only made out to the name— simply to F. R. Marlborough, lady, and colored servant, without stating the place of abode. This I could only expect to find recorded on the register, and this, was lost. I felt deeply disappointed. I had discovered much. I had clearly proved the identity of the party that had stopped at the Inn with the party that had stopped at the Hotel. All the intermediate links were perfect The proofs were clear and left no room for the shadow of a doubt.

  Yet I seemed at once brought to a full stop in my search. I seemed to have met with a barrier that could not be surmounted.

  `Sir,' I said with an earnestness that shewed the depth of my feelings, `is it not possible that you may be able to recall the gentleman to your mind; to recollect when he was with you, and also his residence? Perhaps, sir, you may have known him well!

  I hung upon his answer. After a moment's reflection, he shook his head:

  `I cannot recal him, sir! It is many years ago, and I have at my house so many hundred guests every year, that he is lost among them all. If there was any particular circumstance by which he could be recalled to my mind?'

  `They must have had an infant with them,' I said with a trembling eagerness. `It is not mentioned in their account, and perhaps would not be likely to be.— But, sir, they must have had an infant with them!'

  He thought again and a socond time shook his head! `I am not able to recall them!'

  `Have you no old domestics with you! Perhaps some one of them might bear these persons in mind!' I said earnestly.

  `You seem deeply interested, sir, and excited. I will do all I can. May I know your motive?'

  `Sir,' I said earnestly, `a party answering to this description with these iniitials, stopped in 1821 at an Inn in Massachusetts and left behind them an infant boy of six months, which child was afterwards brought up to manhood by the good landlady. I am that child. I am seeking my parentage! Circumstances have favored me thus far, and I have traced them to your house. I have discovered their name. I desire now to learn their residence!'

  On hearing this account of myself and my object the kind-hearted old gentleman at once interested himself in my affair. He sent for an old gray-headed negro and questioned him.

  `No, massa,' said the African scratching his forehead, `I doesn't collect zactly any sich gemmun as dis Massa Marlbry wot you axes me `bout; yet dis niggar hab pertikklar good mem'ry too!'

  `He is more likely to remember persons of his own color,' I said quickly. He was then asked to recall any black coachman that he might have seen there.— After a good deal of bothering of his thick brain and naming over every nigger servant that come with gentlemen, beginning at the one that came yesterday and going back from year to year, he finally got to the year 1821. It then occured to me to mention that they had a new coach with a crest, an eagle treading upon a serpent.

  I had no sooner named this, than his eyes shone with intelligence.

  `Ah, dar he be massa, dem's de man! I 'members de niggar wot druv dat caryage mighty well! His name was Pompey. He an' I was 'tikkilar friends ater we'd got 'quainted. Oh, yis! I collects him and his new coach! Now I 'collects his master an' missus too! I 'member's de eagle clawin de rattlesnake!

  `Did they have an infant!'

  `Lor, yis! I members it jist as well! a leettle bit baby—yah, yah! Dis nigger hab good memory!'

  `Where did Pompey say his master lived!'

  `Dat am de mistery, massa! I recollecs axing dat question ob him, an he nebber gib no satesfaktry answer! He keep dark as his own skin! He wos a genelmen nigger dough, nebberdeless. He wore a crape behind his hat half a yard long. His master and missus was mighty 'spectable people, or dey'd nebber hab sich a 'spectable servant.'

  `Was he a slave do you remember!'

  `Dat am a mystery too. I axed him more dan onct if he wor a free nigger genlmun or a slave an he neber gib me no satisfaxion. I tink, homsomnebber, dat he wos a slave and from de West Indgy, coz he look and talk like a Ingy nigger, and not like ol' Wirginny!'

  Nothing further could be elicited from the old African. But, to my joy, mine host, whose memory had received an impetus from the negro's reminiscence, now remembered the coach and the party. It was, however, but indistinctly. He remembered they were very retired, and were in mourning; but nothing new was gained by me. After thanking him for his politeness, and receiving his warm wishes for my success, I quitted the hotel. As I was passing out I placed a dollar in the hands of the negro, who, after a bow and scrape, called me back, and said,

  `Now I tink ob it massa, dat nigger Pompey make me a present ob an old trunk, dat when dey go away in dar new caryage he couldn't carry. I gib de nigger a pound ob 'baccy for it! Dar be some writin' or printin in de trunk wot may be able to tell massa whar it come from, if dat be wot massa arter.'

  My heart leaped into my mouth. I desired him instantly to conduct me to the trunk. It was in the boot-room. It proved to be an old round topped wooden trunk, once covered with seal skin, every hair of which was now worn off. It was shining with blacking, for the old man used it to try his brushes upon before applying them to the boots.

  `Dat am de present dat Pomp gib me for a pound ob 'baccy, massa.'

  I opened it, as it had no key, and tumbling out without ceremony the contents of coarse clothing upon the floor, I examined it. It was lined inside with newspapers, and a glance shewed me that they were English papers. The date was 1818. But all doubt of its being an
English trunk was put to an end by a defaced card on which I was able to decypher the name of `Sandford, Maker, London.'

  This was all that I could discover in or about the trunk. But it strengthened a former idea that the stamp upon the Silver Bottle had led me to hold that my parents might have come from England. But then the bottle and the trunk might have both been made in London and yet their possessors be Americans. They might have been purchased in the United States. But then again trunks were not imported, and a bottle like that could be as easily obtained here as in England!—The result was that I began to be deeply impressed with the idea that I should have to look yet to England for my parentage! The negro had probably received the trunk from his master, who had no doubt purchased it in London.

  I had yet one more branch of events to pursue to its source. The maker of the carriage, Mr. Merton had told me, was still living, I had taken his address; and after leaving the Hotel I hastened to call on him without delay. I found him at home and to my surprise and pleasure, Mr. Merton with him, who had called to see him in my behalf. I related to him the result of my visit to Head's. They had just been looking over the books and accounts of that year and there found the name of Ferdinand R. Marlborough. The bill of the carriage was made out to his name. Beyond this I could learn nothing, save that the coachmaker expressed it as his opinion that Mr. Marlborough was an Englishman. This impression strengthened my own, which were tending to that channel and I began involuntarily to turn my thoughts towards the other side of the Atlantic.

  I had now exhausted all my means of information in Philadelphia and felt that I must seek for the next link in London. I at once hastened to my kind foster-mother, and after reporting to her the events which had occurred during my absence, I made known to her my intention to take passage for Europe. My only guides were the maker's stamp on the Silver Bottle, whereby I hoped to trace the purchasers; that upon the trunk, and the crest, by which I hoped to find my parents, through the Herald office.

  The good dame was too sensible, and desired too much my happiness to offer any objection, and, though not without tears, gave her consent.

  I shall, therefore, depart in the Acadia steamship, which sails next Monday for England. I am, by the generosity of my foster-mother, amply provided with means. I shall be in England in a few days, and there enter upon the search, the resources of which I feel that I have exhausted here!

  The reader shall hear of my progress after I reach England in a series of letters, which I shall transmit to them in recompense for their indulgence in following me thus far in my narrative. Till then I bid you, my dear readers, an affectionate farewell.

  Your friend, LITTLE MARLBORO'.

  Boston, June 20, 184—

  PART II

  CHAPTER I.

  London, - July 8th, 184—. To The readers of the First Part of `The Silver Bottle.' -

  I DEPARTED from Boston in the Acadia Steamship the Monday following the close of the First Series of my narration, and arrived here in safety three days ago. I have already stated that by the generosity of my kind foster-mother, Dame Darwell, I was amply provided with means to prosecute my search. According to my promise the reader shall now hear of my progress in a series of letters which I shall transmit to them in recompense for their indulgence in following me thus far in my narrative.

  Having, as has been seen, exhausted all my resources of information in the United States, there remained no alternative but to cross the Atlantic. My readers will probably remember on what proofs I hoped to find some trace of my parentage; but I will here recapitulate them:—First: was the Silver Nursery Bottle which was discovered lying with me in the bed of the `Court Chamber, ' with its crest of an eagle treading upon a serpent, and beneath the crest a cypher—the single letter `M.'

  Second: This crest was also upon the harness and carriage and the initial was upon the brass plate of a trunk behind the carriage! These facts of coincidence showed that the bottle must have belonged to the persons in the carriage, and consequently that both the bottle and myself had been left in the Court Chamber by these strangers.

  Third: I have traced the carriage to the carriage maker's in Philadelphia and there obtained the original drawing of the crest; and I had discovered at the hotel that the purchaser of the carriage had entered his name as `F. R. Marlborough;' (a singular coincidence with my own!) for as these were the initials on the back of the letter upon which the device of the crest had been drawn by the stranger for the coach-painter, there was no question of the identity of one with the other.

  Fourth: The discovery of the old English trunk was a circumstance that I deemed an important item in my array of discoveries; as it, without doubt, confirmed my long conceived opinion that I should yet have to look to England for my parents.

  Fifth: The name of the maker of the Silver Bottle on which I placed great hopes. It was `Beufort & Co. Lon—.'

  `Sixth: The crest, if belonging to an English family, could without doubt be found at the Herald office, and by this means the family which claimed it might be discovered.

  These were the slight grounds upon which I based my hopes of discovering my parents, and which have led me to cross the Atlantic in search of them. I am now in London! My hopes are buoyant. I feel I shall yet succeed! At least I am determined never to cease my efforts to find those to whom I owe my birth. I have been two days in London. But the fatigue and excitement of my journey and of reaching the field of my labors has kept me confined to my room until this morning. I have been engaged all the forenoon in making my plans. The Herald office cannot be visited on business until next Wednesday and it is now Friday. I should first wish to visit that, but I cannot wait so long an interval. I have, therefore, sent a servant for a directory from one of the libraries to examine it for the name of `Beufort & Co.,' the makers of the Silver Bottle. The servant has just returned!

  4 P. M. I have examined the directory for this year and those for seven years back without finding the firm. I find several of the name of Beufort both alone and with partners, but none of the firm of `Beufort & Co.' I have despatched a messenger for a bound catalogue of the trade published, as I learn, by the company of Silver Smith's of the city of London, and extending back in volumes for more than a century. I have sent for the volume or twenty-five years ago.

  The man has just returned from `The Silver Smith's Arms,' informing me that books are not suffered to leave the library, but that I can call and refer to them. I shall at once proceed to the Hall for this purpose.

  8 P. M. I left the house guided by the messenger, for London is a labyrinth to me, and reached the Silver Smith's Hall after half an hour's walk. I was guided up a broad flight of steps into a vestibule, where sat an old man who acted as door-keeper. On informing him of my wishes he asked me if I had a ticket of admission. I replied in the negative.

  `You cannot be admitted without a ticket of permission, sir,' he said.

  `Of whom am I to obtain this?'

  `Of the President of the Company.'

  While I was undecided what to do, a gentleman, advanced in years, came up the stairs and was about to enter, when observing my perplexity, for he had overheard what had passed, he said to me politely,

  `You are a stranger I peceive, sir!'

  `Yes, sir. An American.'

  `You may enter, sir, with me. Can I be of service to you?'

  `My business in coming here,' I answered, `was to examine the volume of The Silver Smith's Company for about twenty-four or five years ago!'

  `You will find them arrayed on yonder shelf, sir. Whose name can you wish to search for, of a date so long back?'

  `That of `Beufort & Co.'

  `That is my own firm?' he said, looking at me fixedly.

  `Your own firm!' I repeated with gratified surprise.

  Yes, sir. I am the Senior partner of that House!'

  `I could not find it on the directory for the last seven years!'

  `No, sir. It is twelve years since I withdrew my name from the firm;
it is now `Walley & Beufort,' my son and son-in-law! I should have said I was instead of am the Senior parter!'

  I was so greatly agitated for a few moments after this singular and seemingly providential discovery, that I could not speak. I trembled and had to place my hand against a column for support He observed my emotion and said with alarm,

  `What! are you becoming ill, sir?'

  `No—no, sir! It is all over. It was only my surprise at meeting you so singularly for whom I was seeking—whom I crossed the Atlantic almost purposely to see!'

  `Crossed the Atlantic to see me?' he exclaimed with intense astonishment.— `What can you have with me to come so far? I do not remember ever to have seen yon—yet, now I look at you more closely, your features seem somewhat familiar:'

  `You can never have seen me before, sir! I have come to see you and ask you what (I said coloring at the seeming trivial nature of the subject) I fear you will regard as a trifling question, but one which is full of the deepest import to me!'

  `Well, sir, speak!' he said gravely seeing that I paused, and looking at me as if he suspected I was not exactly in a state of mental soundness.

  `Do you remember having sold some twenty-five years ago, a silver nursing bottle?'

  He smiled, but answered benevolently,

  `I dare say I have, sir, a good many of them. In those days I know we manufactured them?'

  `You stamped them with the name of your firm—Beufort & Co?'

  `Yes. But why do you ask?'

  `I have a motive, sir, if you will indulge me! Did you ever sell such an article to a person by the name of Marlboro'?'

  I hung upon his reply. He looked as if he were trying to recollect, and then answered slowly,

  `Not that I remember. My books however will show!'

  `Can you refer to them easily?'

  `Yes, sir. But this would hardly seem necessary!'

  `I owe you a thousand apologies, sir, but it is very necessary I should ascertain this. When I tell you, sir, that I am a foster-child and abandoned by my parents in infancy and that the only clue I have to my parentage is a silver nursing bottle which they left with me, stamped with your name, I am assured sir, you will excuse my zeal and overlook the trouble I give you!'