A Daughter of the Middle Border Part 1

A Daughter of the Middle Border.

by Hamlin Garland.

FOREWORD

I

_To My New Readers_

In the summer of 1893, after nine years of hard but happy literary life in Boston and New York, I decided to surrender my residence in the East and reestablish my home in the West, a decision which seemed to be--as it was--a most important event in my career.

This change of headquarters was due not to a diminis.h.i.+ng love for New England, but to a deepening desire to be near my aging parents, whom I had persuaded, after much argument, to join in the purchase of a family homestead, in West Salem, Wisconsin, the little village from which we had all adventured some thirty years before.

My father, a typical pioneer, who had grown gray in opening new farms, one after another on the wind-swept prairies of Iowa and Dakota, was not entirely content with my plan but my mother, enfeebled by the hards.h.i.+ps of a farmer's life, and grateful for my care, was glad of the arrangement I had brought about. In truth, she realized that her days of pioneering were over and the thought of ending her days among her friends and relatives was a comfort to her. That I had rescued her from a premature grave on the barren Dakota plain was certain, and the hope of being able to provide for her comfort was the strongest element in my plan.

After ten years of separation we were agreed upon a project which would enable us as a family to spend our summers together; for my brother, Franklin, an actor in New York City, had promised to take his vacation in the home which we had purchased.

As this homestead (which was only eight hours by rail from Chicago) is to be one of the chief characters in this story, I shall begin by describing it minutely. It was not the building in which my life began--I should like to say it was, but it was not. My birthplace was a cabin--part logs and part lumber--on the opposite side of the town.

Originally a squatter's cabin, it was now empty and forlorn, a dreary monument of the pioneer days, which I did not take the trouble to enter.

The house which I had selected for the final Garland homestead, was entirely without any direct a.s.sociations with my family. It was only an old frame cottage, such as a rural carpenter might build when left to his own devices, rude, angular, ugly of line and drab in coloring, but it stood in the midst of a four-acre field, just on the edge of the farmland. Sheltered by n.o.ble elms and stately maples, its windows fronted on a low range of wooded hills, whose skyline (deeply woven into my childish memories) had for me the charm of things remembered, and for my mother a placid beauty which (after her long stay on the treeless levels of Dakota) was almost miraculous in effect. Entirely without architectural dignity, our new home was s.p.a.cious and suggested the comfort of the region round about.

My father, a man of sixty-five, though still actively concerned with a wide wheat farm in South Dakota, had agreed to aid me in maintaining this common dwelling place in Wisconsin provided he could return to Dakota during seeding and again at harvest. He was an eagle-eyed, tireless man of sixty-five years of age, New England by origin, tall, alert, quick-spoken and resolute, the kind of natural pioneer who prides himself on never taking the back trail. In truth he had yielded most reluctantly to my plan, influenced almost wholly by the failing health of my mother, to whom the work of a farm household had become an intolerable burden. As I had gained possession of the premises early in November we were able to eat our Thanksgiving Dinner in our new home, happy in the companions.h.i.+p of old friends and neighbors. My mother and my Aunt Susan were entirely content. The Garlands seemed anch.o.r.ed at last.

II

To the Readers of "A Son of the Middle Border"

In taking up and carrying forward the theme of "A Son of the Middle Border" I am fully aware of my task's increasing difficulties, realizing that I must count on the clear understanding and continuing good will of my readers.

First of all, you must grant that the glamor of childhood, the glories of the Civil War, the period of prairie conquest which were the chief claims to interest in the first volume of my chronicle can not be restated in these pages. The action of this book moves forward into the light of manhood, into the region of middle age. Furthermore, its theme is more personal. Its scenes are less epic. It is a study of individuals and their relations.h.i.+ps rather than of settlements and migrations. In short, "A Daughter of the Middle Border" is the complement of "A Son of the Middle Border," a continuation, not a repet.i.tion, in which I attempt to answer the many questions which readers of the first volume have persistently put to me.

"Did your mother get her new daughter?" "How long did she live to enjoy the peace of her Homestead?" "What became of David and Burton?" "Did your father live to see his grandchildren?" These and many other queries, literary as well as personal, are--I trust--satisfactorily answered in this book. Like the sequel to a novel, it attempts to account for its leading characters and to satisfy the persistent interest which my correspondents have so cordially expressed.

It remains to say that the tale is as true as my memory will permit--it is constructed only by leaving things out. If it reads, as some say, like fiction, that result is due not to invention but to the actual lives of the characters involved. Finally this closes my story of the Garlands and McClintocks and the part they took in a marvelous era in American settlement.

CONTENTS

BOOK I

CHAPTER PAGE

I. MY FIRST WINTER IN CHICAGO 1

II. I RETURN TO THE SADDLE 13

III. IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF GENERAL GRANT 24

IV. RED MEN AND BUFFALO 38

V. THE TELEGRAPH TRAIL 53

VI. THE RETURN OF THE ARTIST 70

VII. LONDON AND EVENING DRESS 86

VIII. THE CHOICE OF THE NEW DAUGHTER 97

IX. A JUDICIAL WEDDING 122

X. THE NEW DAUGHTER AND THANKSGIVING 140

XI. MY FATHER'S INHERITANCE 153

XII. WE TOUR THE OKLAHOMA PRAIRIE 171

XIII. STANDING ROCK AND LAKE MCDONALD 184

XIV. THE EMPTY ROOM 204

BOOK II

XV. A SUMMER IN THE HIGH COUNTRY 219

XVI. THE WHITE HOUSE MUSICAL 237

XVII. SIGNS OF CHANGE 247

XVIII. THE OLD PIONEER TAKES THE BACK TRAIL 262

XIX. NEW LIFE IN THE OLD HOUSE 271

XX. MARY ISABEL'S CHIMNEY 289

XXI. THE FAIRY WORLD OF CHILDHOOD 307

XXII. THE OLD SOLDIER GAINS A GRANDDAUGHTER 326

XXIII. "CAVANAGH" AND THE "WINDS OF DESTINY" 341

XXIV. THE OLD HOMESTEAD SUFFERS DISASTER 355