A Biographical Sketch of the Life and Character of Joseph Charless Part 4

And yet how much do I regret, now, when it is too late to remedy it, that I did not, readily and cheerfully, accede to every wish of this dear friend, whose truly consistent and beautiful character shone out most clearly at home. How much do I regret now, that I should have allowed his few little foibles to annoy me. The greatest of these, and the one that caused more unpleasant words between us than any and all things else, was his carelessness in dress. I do not know that I am scrupulously neat, but I did pride myself in the personal appearance of my husband, which was sometimes seriously marred by an unshaved beard or a soiled shirt. We were once traveling on a steamboat, and, standing on the guards, I discovered him on the wheel-house, and called to him to come to me. A lady asked if ?that old gentleman? was my husband, and said: ?You look so young, I am surprised that you should have married so old a man.? She seemed to be an unoffending, simple-hearted woman, such as we frequently meet in traveling, and I replied, with a smile, ?He suits me very well, ma?am;? but made use of the earliest opportunity to tell him of it?-really taking pleasure in doing so-?for I had often expressed my own views on that subject, a.s.suring him that he looked at least twenty years older when he neglected to dress with care, especially if he had not shaved.

Next morning he paid particular attention to making his toilet, declaring it to be his intention ?to create a sensation,? which he certainly succeeded in doing, much to our mutual amus.e.m.e.nt; for the same lady, eyeing him closely at breakfast; expressed to me afterwards her amazement at the change, giving it as her opinion, that ?he was the handsomest young gentleman she had ever seen.?

I went too boldly to work in trying to correct his careless habits in dress. I formed an idea that it was my duty and my privilege, not only to attend to my husband?s wardrobe, but to direct, too, how it should be disposed of; but soon found that he was not to be made to do anything. And, as ?straws show which way the wind blows,? I learned, in most things, to influence him by silken cords. He was willing to be led captive by love and tenderness. Why, when your dear mamma was not more than four or five years of age, she had learned the art of making ?papa? do as she liked. I remember to have heard her say once (slyly to one side), ?I am going to make papa let me do it.? And when asked ?Make papa?? answered, ?Yes, the way mamma does;? and immediately turned to him with her most bewitching little smile, and said, ?Do please, dear papa, let me.?

O! what a joyous home we had! And what changes time has made!

The old Wahrendorff house has been rased to the ground, and stores stand in its place. Where domestic peace and happiness reigned-?where flowers bloomed-?where childhood held its sports and holidays, now is seen the busy mart of this bustling, plodding world. The merry little magnet of that gra.s.s-covered spot is now the mother of four children; and the beloved father, upon whom her mother fondly hoped to lean, as she tottered down the hill of life, lies low, at its base.

One of my dear sisters was there seen in her bridals robes, pure and sweet. But now, she is among the angels (as I humbly trust,) clothed in the white robe of a Saviour?s righteousness. The other still lives to bless us with her presence and her love.

Our brothers have pa.s.sed their truant school-boy days-??sowed their wild oats??-have taken their stand among men, and are realizing themselves now the blessedness of a home of conjugal and paternal happiness, and begin to know something of the care and anxiety that has been felt for them, and of the hopes which stimulate to duty. And thus, Time, as he pa.s.ses, leaves foot-prints, which make the children of to-day the men and women of to-morrow; brings changes which blight our fondest hopes, crush the heart, and leave us, in our tempest-tossed bark, to weather awhile longer the storms upon the voyage of life.

But my mind still reverts to this home of my happy married life.

It is Sabbath morning there, and we are around the family altar. The chapter has been read, and we are singing a favorite hymn of the one who reads and prays. It is spring time, and the fresh air comes in through the opened window, perfumed with the rose and the sweet-brier.

But we are singing:

?The rosy light is dawning, Upon the mountain?s brow: It is the Sabbath morning, Arise, and pay thy vow.

Lift up thy voice to Heaven, In sacred praise and prayer, While unto thee is given The light of life to share.

The landscape, lately shrouded By evening?s paler ray, Smiles beauteous and unclouded Before the eye of day; So let our souls, benighted Too long in folly?s shade, By the kind smiles be lighted To joys that never fade.

O, see those waters streaming In crystal purity; While earth, with verdure teeming, Give rapture to the eye.

Let rivers of salvation In larger currents flow, Till every tribe and nation Their healing virtue know.?

The morning is past?-we have been to church, and dined; and now our little daughter is listening, most eagerly, to the Bible story, which was promised her as a reward for good behavior.

The afternoon has pa.s.sed. We have had an early tea, and again we surround the Throne of Grace before going to church. The same loved voice is heard again joining in another favorite hymn:

?Sweet is the light of Sabbath eve, And soft the sunbeams lingering there: For this blest hour the world I leave, Wafted on wings of faith and prayer.

The time, how lovely, and how still!

Peace shines and smiles on all below; The vale, the wood, the stream, the hill, All fair with evening?s setting glow.

Season of rest, the tranquil soul Feels the sweet calm, and melts to love: And while these peaceful moments roll, Faith sees a smiling Heaven above.

Nor shall our days of toil be long; Our pilgrimage will soon be trod, And we shall join the ceaseless song, The endless Sabbath of our G.o.d.?

Affectionately yours, GRANDMA.

Belmont, February, 1861.

Letter Ten

My Dear Grandchildren:

I see in casting a glance back, that I have pa.s.sed over a good deal in the life of your grandfather, which will, perhaps, be of interest to you; without which, at any rate, this sketch would not be complete. And I intended, when I closed my last letter, to commence this with his career as a business man, and to continue the narrative to the close of his life; and then to give you a distinct account of his influence and deeds in the Church, and in the world, as a Christian. But I do not know, upon further reflection, that it is best to divide up his life in that way; and, indeed, it seems to me rather a difficult and unnatural task to do so, for he strictly followed the injunction of the Apostle: ?Be diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.? The dividing line, therefore, would be hard to find, if there was one at all.

And these letters, which are a pleasant recreation to me while I write them?-and of profit, too, I hope, as I carefully review the life of him who, ?though dead, still speaketh??-would, I fear, become a task, should I change the simple and pleasing plan I have adopted of recalling the past, with the incidents as they occurred, and from them selecting such as I think will best unfold to your view the real, every-day life of him, which, if fairly seen, cannot fail to plant in your young hearts a just pride for such an ancestor, and a holy desire to walk in his steps. With this view, I will retrace, and bring up, briefly and in order, the omissions to which I have alluded.

You remember, I mentioned to you the fact, that your grandfather commenced life, as a business man, by becoming the partner of his father in the drug business. His father had, a few years previously, given up his interest in the ?Missouri Republican? to his son Edward, and commenced a business which was new to him, and that upon a small capital. He found it so profitable, however, that he prevailed on Joseph to abandon his profession, (the practice of which he had but just commenced), and to join him, believing that it would ultimately be more to his advantage to do so. From the profits arising from this business?-which regularly increased, with the increase of the city, and that of the country, from the rapid emigration to the Western States-?combined with his success in an occasional speculation in land, I doubt not, if ?grandpa? had been at all given to the love of money, or had been ambitious of attaining to great wealth, and had bent his powers of mind and body in that direction, he would have reached the desired goal, perhaps to becoming a millionaire.

But very different from this were the tendencies of his nature.

He appreciated money as the means of adding to the sum of human happiness; and, while he was by no means reckless in the use of it, it was a source of great pleasure to him to have it in his power to indulge his family in having what they desired and in living as they pleased, and still to have something over to distribute to the necessities of the indigent. To the Church of Christ he cheerfully contributed to the extent of his ability, esteeming it one of his highest privileges. Pursuing this course, his business meanwhile widening, and constantly becoming more profitable, in the year 1837 or ?38, he decided to take a partner, and offered the situation to my brother Henry, which was gladly accepted. After this, (I do not know exactly how long), he purchased a valuable piece of ground in the city, upon a part of which ?the firm? determined to build an oil and lead factory. This proved to be a very expensive and arduous undertaking; and, although it promised, after being fairly established, to be a most profitable investment, yet the capital of ?the firm? was not sufficient to complete and to carry it on successfully until it should reach a self-sustaining point, without doing serious injury to ?the store,? by depriving it of the necessary capital for its success.

During this state of things, which grew worse every day, my husband discerned a portentous cloud in the sky of his commercial prosperity, which resulted after days and nights of anxiety and overtaxed strength of body and mind, in a low state of health and spirits that almost unfitted him for his acc.u.mulated business, which, nevertheless, he continued to prosecute with avidity. This was about the year 1841. I do not recollect how long his ill health lasted, but I well remember how his flesh went away?-how pale he was?-how he perspired at night, from nervous prostration, and how his skin seemed to cleave to his bones. He was still amiable and uncomplaining; but his elasticity, his free-hearted joyousness was gone.

After pressing him for some time to tell me his troubles and difficulties, and sympathizing with him because of them, until a far deeper concern took possession of me on account of his health, and, finding that moderate expostulations did not better things, I determined to make an effort by trying a wife?s skill in arousing him from this state of despondency, which threatened such serious consequences; for I might well feel that fortune would be nothing to me without my husband-?my husband as he ever had been. And ?if the worst came to the worst,? if he only had sufficient means to pay his debts, (which he said, without doubt, he had), I cared for nothing better than to begin life afresh, with such a husband as I had, with health, youth, business capacity, and a good reputation.

This conversation was not without effect; and he determined, by way of recruiting, to ?knock off? from business, and to make an excursion into the country. This little trip?-which was not simply without aim, other than for his health, as he had some business to attend to on the way-?acted like a charm, by restoring his wasted energies and his cheerfulness. He returned, in ten or fifteen days, more like himself than he had been for months. After this, he soon recovered entirely; and never again did he lose his equanimity for more, perhaps, than a day or two at a time, although the dreaded blow did come, but not before he had taken a step in the divine life, which served to buoy him up above the ills of this checkered existence.

During the year 1839, about five years after we became members of the Church, your grandfather was ordained ?Ruling Elder? in the Second Presbyterian church. We united with the ?First Presbyterian church?

(which I believe, I told you in a previous letter), which was then the only one in the city, but were induced, from a sense of duty, to go out, with a few others, to a.s.sist in strengthening a small colony that had been struggling for existence almost from the time it had left the mother church, some two or three years previous. In the building up of this church he was one of its most efficient agents. Besides having the duties of an Elder to perform, he was appointed a Trustee, and, with others, was very active in planning, and carrying forward to its completion, a large and expensive building, bearing a heavy part of the debt of it for years, until the means were provided for his relief, which was not until long after he had met with heavy pecuniary losses.

He was regularly in his place at all the meetings of the church, both for spiritual and secular purposes.

Now, my dear children, if you have conceived an idea, from the insight I have given you, of the numerous occupations of your grandfather, that he must have been bustling about, having so much to do--hurrying things at home, and having no time for pleasure or recreation-?you are greatly mistaken. A day rarely pa.s.sed that he did not take a ride with his family, or some member of it, to ?the farm,?

(except during the period of his ill health, when he oftener sought repose in the afternoon), enjoying, with the fresh air, exercise, and charms of the country, the society of those so dear to him. He never came home with a surly look?-like some people who want to make an impression that they have the world on their shoulders-?to talk about hard work, and hard times, or disagreeable matters, or to recount all the wonderful things he had done, or had to do. But, with a step and a countenance that seemed to say, ?What a blessed and happy man I am!?

his presence always brought with it happiness and peace. He was not a great talker, but he generally had something pleasant to say, or an interesting anecdote to relate; for, with a keen perception of the ludicrous, he possessed a talent for telling anecdotes admirably well, and a humor that was irresistibly pervasive. No one could help feeling its influence, and being all the happier for it.

I wish I could remember some of his anecdotes, and do them justice in the relation; but I know the attempt would be futile: for there was so much in the look and manner that gave a zest to his conversation, and rendered it attractive, that it would be impossible to convey a correct idea of it in words. None can feel, or fully appreciate it, without having had the privilege of being in his presence. A friend, to whom he was much attached, and at whose house he frequently visited, mentioned to me, since his death, that he and his wife had, from their early acquaintance with him, been in the habit of referring often to what ?Mr. Charless? would say, recalling his conversation, and talking so much about him, that one day he asked, ?Wife, how is it we cannot help talking of Mr. Charless??-what is there about him that impresses us so? It is not really what he says, but the way he says it. It is his humor, his benevolence of manner, his inimitable pleasantry, etc.?

With these qualities, I need not say that he was an acquisition to society. He enjoyed it at home or abroad; at the evening party, or with a few friends around the social board. With a genial nature, he had a facility for adaptation, so that it was easy for him to feel perfectly at home, and unrestrained, with all cla.s.ses and conditions of men, young or old, gay or grave. He was particularly fond of young people, and generally had a ?little sweetheart? among the girls, with whom he would occasionally carry on a spirited flirtation.

In the fall of 1841, immediately after his period of dejection, and consequent ill health, your grandfather and myself mutually agreed that it would be best for us, by way of lessening our expenses, to sell our furniture, and break up housekeeping for a few years. My health, which had never been good since that severe illness, of which I have spoken, was the palpable cause; for my husband had often expressed a desire to try the effect of rest from the cares and fatigue of housekeeping, and now, that one sister and two of my brothers were married and settled, there was not difficulty in the way of our doing so. This proved to be a very fortunate step, for at the time things, almost anything, sold well. The city was prosperous, and everybody felt rich. Our furniture, of which we reserved sufficient to furnish two bed-rooms, besides our valuables of plate, etc., sold for as much, some of it for more, than we paid for it when new. And in one year from that time, suddenly, there was a monetary pressure, which brought every kind of property down to less than half of its value or original cost. It was one of those pecuniary tornadoes which occasionally sweep through the whole length and breadth of the land, levelling and blighting everything as it pa.s.ses, putting a stop to the wheels of commerce, and bringing terror into almost every family. It came with an astounding effect upon St. Louis. Many who felt themselves rich were in a few days reduced to a state of poverty, not having the means wherewith to pay their honest debts.

The firm of ?Charless & Blow? were compelled to ?suspend payment.? This reverse came upon them like a shock, for, notwithstanding my husband?s fears, a year or two previous, with regard to his mercantile affairs, he had informed me, but a short time before, that he had no doubt now but that they would be enabled to get through with the difficulties that had been pressing him down; for, as he expressed it, ?we begin now to see our way clear.? They had had no apprehensions with regard to their endorser (for whom they also endorsed), for ?his house? was one of the oldest and (it was thought) one of the most opulent in the city. But when the fact was known that Mr. T had failed, and when his creditors called upon the firm of ?Charless & Blow? to respond to his notes, which were then due, it was too much for them. At first my husband (pale from emotion) thought all was over!?-all for which he had been toiling for years; reduced to poverty, his reputation as a merchant, perhaps, greatly weakened; and, what was worse still, (not knowing the extent of his losses by Mr. T.), he might not be able, after sacrificing everything he had in the world, to pay his debts!

In a crisis like this, developments are exceedingly rapid, and revulsion of feeling just as much so. The excitement is too intense to endure delay. The best and the worst must be known, if possible, and that at once. It was soon ascertained, therefore, in the case of ?Charless & Blow,? that their loss, by the failure of our good and honorable old friend, was not much; and the chief difficulty with them, as with all other sufferers, lay in the loss of confidence between men, and the consequent scarcity of money in circulation.

Your grandparents pa.s.sed one troubled night in consequence of this event, in which sleep?-?tired nature?s sweet restorer?-?forsook them. But the next afternoon found them taking a drive in grandpa?s buggy, calmly talking about their new circ.u.mstances, and resolving, with a courageous heart, to meet them, whatever they might be. Of course, I did all I could to encourage him, (else I would not have been worthy the name of wife); became very self-sacrificing for a lady?-willing to part with my tea service, and all my silver-ware-?any and everything I had of value, except my bridal gifts; and then began to speculate upon how very nice it would be to live in a neat little cottage, etc., etc. For I was not too old to be romantic; and I do really believe now, as I recall my enthusiasm on the subject, that I would have been disappointed had anything occurred to prevent me from exhibiting to my husband how cheerfully I could submit to misfortune.

No such test came; for the very next day a widow, who had deposited a few hundred dollars with ?the firm? for safe keeping, hearing of their reverses, called to get her money. They had none; and my husband, remembering my offer, sent a messenger, with a note, requesting me to send the tea-service, with which to secure her. Cheerfully?-for I was glad it was in my power to secure the widow against loss, and to relieve the mind of my husband to some little extent-?but with a beating heart, (for this was a birth-day gift from him), I parted with my beautiful tea-service, and have never seen it since. It was sold to pay that debt.

Our dear old mother was greatly afflicted because of our reverses in fortune, and wept like a child; but her amazement was to see me so unmoved. I thought then it was Christian submission that enabled me to bear up so well; but I see now there was a great deal of human love, and sympathy, and human pride, too, mixed with it.

Although we were not keeping house, at that time, we were very delightfully and happily situated, for we were boarding (as an especial favor) at our eldest brother?s. He had a sweet wife, and they lived in their beautiful new house, which, years after, ?grandpa? purchased. It was there your dear mamma pa.s.sed her young lady days-?where she was married-?where her little sons, Charless, Louis and Edward, were born; and where their loving grandpa breathed away his precious life. But the same reasons which made it necessary for us to submit to loss and inconvenience, made it inc.u.mbent on my brother to sell his residence.

Consequently, we accepted the kind invitation of our mother to occupy a part of her house; and, by strict economy in every practicable thing -?paying her a very low price for our board, which the old lady would receive, but ?not a cent more?-?we pa.s.sed three of the happy years of our life, at the end of which time, we had regained a considerable amount of our losses; and, what was better still, your dear grandfather had become firmly and prosperously re-established in business, without having lost an atom of his reputation as a judicious and energetic merchant.

?The suspension? of Charless & Blow did not result in a complete failure, by any means. They solicited an examination into their affairs, exhibited their books, making a complete and full exposition of the condition of their business, and it was unanimously agreed upon, by the committee chosen for the purpose, that it would be greatly to the advantage of their creditors for ?the firm? not to close up, but to continue the business, each binding himself to extract, for the two succeeding years, only a small (stated) sum for private use, from the proceeds of the store.

As soon as the adverse condition of ?C. & B.? was relieved, and they had regained their former position-?which, I think, was in about two years from the time of the crisis-?they made up their minds to dissolve partnership: one to take ?the store;? the other, ?the oil and lead factory.? Accordingly, terms of dissolution were drawn up. Mr.

Charless, being the elder, had the privilege of choosing, and, after reflection, decided upon retaining the store. My two younger brothers afterwards became his partner in the business, and remained as ?Charless, Blow & Co.? until dissolved by the death of their beloved senior.