Richard Jefferies - "The Life of the Fields"

Thomas Carlyle - "History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 8"

George MacDonald - "What's Mine's Mine V1"

Archer B. Hulbert - "The Paths of Inland Commerce, A Chronicle of Trail, Road,"

From Wealth to Poverty

A >> Austin Potter >> From Wealth to Poverty



Produced by Andrea Ball, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
This file was produced from images generously made available
by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions.




FROM WEALTH TO POVERTY;

OR,

THE TRICKS OF THE TRAFFIC.

A Story of the Drink Curse


BY THE REV. AUSTIN POTTER.


"I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a drunkard.
Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all.
To be now a sensible man, by-and-bye a fool, and presently a beast"
--Othello, Act II.


TO THE FRIENDS OF PROHIBITION THE WORLD OVER THIS BOOK IS
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED

BY THE AUTHOR.



PREFACE

My reasons for writing this story were principally two. The first
was my undying hatred of the rum traffic, which, in the days of
the long ago, caused me and those dear to me to endure intense
hardship and suffering; and the second was my desire to expose the
unprincipled measures which were employed by the liquor party in
order to render the Dunkin Act non-effective, and thus bring it
into disrepute.

What I have written has been taken from personal experience and
observation; and as I have resided in three counties where the Act
was in force, and have since visited several others, the data,
which served as a foundation for what follows, was not gleaned
from any particular locality.

The picture I herein present of the plottings of the liquor party,
and the cruel treachery to which they resorted in order to bring
their conspiracy to defeat the law to a successful issue, is not
overdrawn; and, let me ask, can there be any doubt but there are
in existence at the present time plots similar to the one laid
bare in this book, which have for their object the obstruction of
the Scott Act in the counties where it has been or may be carried,
thus if possible to bring it into such contempt among the
unthoughtful, who will not examine back of the effect for the
cause, as to finally secure its repeal. Of one thing we may be
certain, if an unscrupulous use of money and the resorting to
"ways that are dark" will accomplish their purpose, these
conspirators will not fail of success.

It has been my aim in this book to help educate public sentiment,
so that if the same tactics are resorted to as were in the places
where the Dunkin Act was in force, my readers will not aid the
violators of the law by joining in the senseless cry, "the Scott
Act is a failure," but that they will, to the extent of their
ability, assist those who are determined that it, like every law
which has been placed on our statute books for the protection of
the subject, must and shall be respected, and that the violators
of its enactments shall be brought to summary and condign
punishment: for except it is backed by public sentiment it, though
much superior to the Dunkin Act, will fail just as signally.

In regard to the principal characters who appear in these pages,
they are not mere creations of my imagination; for Richard and
Ruth Ashton were real personages, with whom I was well acquainted,
as were all the prominent individuals of this story.

The descriptions given of the murders and suicides, also of Morris
throwing the tumbler at his son, and of the scene when Allie
Ashton was insulted by Joe Porter and the latter was knocked down
by Frank Congdon, are all taken from events which really occurred.

For what I have written I offer no apology, but will simply state
that I have only been animated with a sincere desire to do my
little all to sweep the drink curse from our country and the
world.

A. P.




CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. A Departure.

CHAPTER II. Richard and Ruth Ashton.

CHAPTER III. On the down grade.

CHAPTER IV. Sail for America and meet a kindly welcome.

CHAPTER V. Good resolution--A tempter and a fall.

CHAPTER VI. Arrival in Canada--A friendly host--Applies for a
situation.

CHAPTER VII. Mr. and Mrs. Gurney.

CHAPTER VIII. Ashton meets with friends and secures a situation.

CHAPTER IX. Ruth's misgivings and mental agony.

CHAPTER X. All in Canada.

CHAPTER XI. Aunt Debie and her friends.

CHAPTER XII. A worthy Sheriff and Judge--Dr. Dalton.

CHAPTER XIII. Ruth Ashton's introduction to Aunt Debie--Ruth's
dilemma.

CHAPTER XIV. A happy home.

CHAPTER XV. Mr. and Mrs. Gurney's satisfaction with Ashton--
Mutual congratulations.

CHAPTER XVI. Ashton revisits old scenes.

CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Howe gives his views in regard to Canada.

CHAPTER XVIII. The banquet, and what followed.

CHAPTER XIX. A startling newspaper item to Mr. and Mrs. Reid.

CHAPTER XX. A base plot, and what it led to.

CHAPTER XXI. Utterly broken--Blasted hopes.

CHAPTER XXII. The Dunkin Act--A discussion in which strong
language is used.

CHAPTER XXIII. The conspirators formulating their scheme.

CHAPTER XXIV. Alderman Toper's flattering opinion of the "Dodger".

CHAPTER XXV. The friends of temperance rejoicing over their
victory.

CHAPTER XXVI. In which the reader listens to a _tete-a-tete_
between mother and daughter.

CHAPTER XXVII. Barton's despair, and what it led to.

CHAPTER XXVIII. The conspirators perfecting the details of their
conspiracy.

CHAPTER XXIX. Mr. Brown's opinion of the trial, and the presiding
magistrates.

CHAPTER XXX. The insult to Allie Ashton--Her gallant defender.

CHAPTER XXXI. Richard Ashton and little Mamie--Mamie's dream.

CHAPTER XXXII. A bar-room settlement of a misunderstanding.

CHAPTER XXXIII. The home and family of Morris--He nearly kills
little Harry.

CHAPTER XXXIV. Tom Flatt's hut--A description of the scene in
which he murders his wife.

CHAPTER XXXV. John, jun.'s wedding--Barton's murder--Luella
Sealy's suicide and Ginsling's tragical death.

CHAPTER XXXVI. Some of the characters who helped the repeal--
A hoodlum's victory.

CHAPTER XXXVII. Death of little Mamie--A promise.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. Richard Ashton murderously attacked--His death.

CHAPTER XXXIX. Mr. Gurney speaks his mind--Death of Dr. Dalton
And Aunt Debie.

CHAPTER XL. Conclusion.




CHAPTER I.

A DEPARTURE.


"Richard, you will keep from drink, will you not, dear?" and the
speaker, in order to make her pleading irresistible, kissed the
one to whom these words were addressed again and again; and, as
with a hand upon each shoulder, she looked lovingly into his eyes,
there was an added pathos which, to a man of Richard Ashton's
sympathetic and sensitive nature, was all powerful.

"Well, Ruth, dear, God helping me, I will again be a man, and when
I am tempted I will think of my dear little wife and my darling
children at home; and remembering how they love me, though I have
been such an indifferent husband and father to them, I will not
touch nor taste the cursed stuff."

The tears gleamed in his eyes as he thus spoke, but feeling his
manhood was being compromised he endeavored to suppress them, the
effort, however, was in vain, for the deepest depths of a noble,
sensitive nature had been wrought upon by the loving appeal of his
wife and the pent-up feeling, gathering force by the very effort
which he had made to suppress it, manifested itself in a series of
short, choking sobs. He returned the kisses of his wife, clasped
her convulsively to him, and, as he looked down into the upturned
face, his eyes manifested an affection which found no expression
in speech. He stooped down and fondly kissed his children and then
opening the door, with satchel in hand, he darted out, only
looking back when his wife called to him, as she stood with her
three little ones on the threshold--

"Remember, Richard, your wife and children will pray for you, that
our Father in heaven may preserve you from danger, give you
strength to resist temptation, and bring you back in safety to
those who love you better than their own lives."

He stood looking back for a moment, and as he saw his wife and
children still gazing intently after him, he murmured, "God bless
you, my darlings;" and turning again, walked rapidly on until he
was lost to view.




CHAPTER II.

RICHARD AND RUTH ASHTON.


Richard Ashton was a native of the town of G----, in the county
of B----, England. His father, who was a draper in good
circumstances, had given his son a liberal education and had
brought him up to his own calling. The son, a young man of quick
parts, took advantage of the opportunities so generously offered
to him and prosecuted his studies with commendable success, and by
the time he was a stripling of sixteen was possessed of knowledge
that few of his years could boast.

Richard was also an omniverous reader, and, as his father
possessed a good library, he, from a very early period had
literally devoured the contents of the books which lined its
shelves, and thus became well versed in history, both ancient and
modern, in the biographies of most of the celebrated men of all
ages, and was also well acquainted with the most eminent poets,
from Chaucer to Tennyson, ever having an apt quotation at his
command to fasten home a maxim or make more pungent a witticism.
In fact he had further developed a mind naturally broad by making
his own the best thoughts of the ages, and his sensitive nature
could not, knowingly, have given pain to a worm--no one that was
worthy appealed in vain to his generosity, and it seemed to be the
endeavor of his life to gain happiness by making those with whom
he associated happy. With his genial disposition, sparkling wit,
skill at repartee, and brilliant conversational powers, it was not
at all surprising, with such a nature and such accomplishments,
joined to an exceedingly handsome person he should have been voted
a good fellow by the men and a "catch" by the young ladies who had
entered that interesting period when they are considered eligible
candidates for matrimony. And as he had, over and above his
accomplishments, good prospects for the future, the mammas of the
aforementioned young ladies should not receive severe censure if
they did each exercise the utmost skill to secure for a son-in-law
the coveted prize. But these delicate manifestations were not
productive of the results which, it was whispered by the Mrs.
Grundies of the neighborhood, would have been most agreeable to
the parties interested, for his heart had long been given to one
who was in all respects worthy of its best affections. It afforded
him, however, no little amusement to find himself the object of so
much attention, and he quietly enjoyed the situation, while the
parties in question endeavored to out-manoeuvre each other, as
they strove, as they supposed without appearing to strive, to
capture the object of their ambition. There was such subtle tact
exhibited and such powers of delicate blandishment displayed that
he was convinced women were born diplomatists, and he now had some
conception of how it was that in a broader field some of the sex
had wielded such an influence over kings and statesmen as to be
the powers behind the throne which ruled empires and kingdoms for
their benison or their bane. He certainly would have possessed
extraordinary attributes if his vanity had not been flattered, by
being conscious he was thought worthy of such flattering
attention; though his thoughts were tinged with cynicism when
exhibitions of selfishness were not wanting in his fair friends,
and as, sometimes, delicate hints were faintly outlined which
darkened character, and inuendoes were whispered to the detriment
of rivals, by lips that seemed moulded only to breathe blessings
or whisper love.

As we have previously stated, Richard Ashton had met his fate
years before, when, as a young man of eighteen, he attended a
social party given by a Mrs. Edmunds, whose husband was a great
friend of his father's, and a member of the same guild. He was
there introduced to a modest, unpretentious, but yet cultivated
and refined country maiden, Ruth Hamilton by name, who was a niece
of his host. We will not say it was a case of love at first sight,
though they certainly were, from the first, mutually attracted
each to the other, for, when he entered into conversation, he
found her so modest and unaffected, yet with a mind so well
furnished--seeming to have an intelligent conception of every
topic upon which they touched, as they ranged at will in their
conversation, evincing such acumen of intellect and such practical
comprehension of subjects of which many of her sex, who made much
greater pretentious, were entirely ignorant, that Ashton,
concluded she was a treasure, indeed, which he would make his own,
if possible.

She might not by some be called a beauty, for she could not boast
of classic regularity of feature; but no one could be long in her
presence without yielding the, tribute which, at first sight, he
was chary of giving. She was fair of complexion--not of a pallid
hue, but tenderly tinted, like a peach blossom, and so transparent
that the blue veins could be plainly discerned as they made their
delicate tracery across her low, broad brow. Her mouth was small,
but expressive, and her lips red and fresh as a rosebud. She had
glorious gray eyes, large and expressive, luminous and deep, which
in repose spoke of peace and calm, but which, when excited by
mirth or by a witticism, glowed and scintillated like wavelets in
the golden light of the sun.

Two such spirits, so alike in taste and yet so opposite in
temperament and complexion, could scarcely fail to be mutually
attractive; for he was dark and she fair; his temper was as the
forked lightning's flash, quick and sometimes destructive, while
she was ever calm, gentle, and self-possessed. In fact, they were
the complement each of the other, and it was not long ere he had
wooed and won her, and obtained the consent of her guardians to
make her his wife.

They were married one beautiful day in the bright Spring-time,
when nature had donned her loveliest dress, and the air was
fragrant with the breath of flowers and vocal with the songs of
birds. As they stood together at the altar--he with his wavy raven
locks swept back from his broad brow, with his dark eyes flashing
with intelligence; she with a face that rivalled in fairness the
wreath of orange blossoms that crowned her luxuriant tresses of
gold--they presented a picture of manly strength and sweet,
womanly beauty that is seldom equalled and scarcely ever excelled.

As the guests congratulated them upon the happy consummation of
their ardent desires, and expressed the hope that life would be to
them as a summer's day with few clouds, they had every reason to
believe their most sanguine hopes would be realized. Alas! many a
day that has had a rosy morn, sweet with the breath of flowers and
jocund with the voice of birds, has been dark with clouds and
flashing angry lightnings ere noon. What a blessing it is that God
in His mercy allows us to revel in the sunshine of the present,
and does not darken our clear sky with the clouds of coming woe.




CHAPTER III.

ON THE DOWN GRADE.


A short time after their marriage Richard inherited the business
and property of his father, whose health had been failing for
years, and who died quite unexpectedly. His mother never recovered
from the shock, but in a short time followed her loved husband to
the grave. So the son was left with a good business and ample
means, seeming to be on the road to opulence.

As the years rolled on business prospered, and the prattle of
children's voices gladdened their home. First a boy came, with the
fair hair and large dreamy eyes of the mother; then, two years
later, a girl with the dark eyes and the raven black hair of the
father, and their cup of bliss seemed full to overflowing.

Circumstances, however, had already occurred which caused Ruth
very much uneasiness of mind, and sometimes when a friend called
she had to absent herself for a short time until she had removed
the traces of her tears.

Richard had joined the "Liberal Club," and as he threw his whole
soul into anything which he deemed worthy of his attention, his
wife soon had grave fears that it absorbed too much of his time.
Hours which should have been devoted to business were spent in
discussing the political issues of the day, and she felt they
suffered serious loss, for there were left to his employees
important transactions which should have had his undivided
attention; and the course he had pursued had alienated some of his
best customers. The Liberal Club of which he was a member was
composed of the most ultra of the Radicals in that section of
country--in fact a great many of its members had been participants
in the Chartist agitation, and, a short time after Ashton joined,
they invited Henry Vincent, the celebrated agitator, to deliver an
address, he, while he remained in town, being the guest of Ashton.
This gave great offence to many of his best customers--not only to
those who were ultratories, but also to the whigs, and, as a
consequence, many of them left him and gave their patronage to
rival establishments.

This, however, was not the worst feature of the case; there was
another and a stronger motive power to accelerate his already
rapid descent. He, with many more of the prominent members of the
"Liberal Club," was also among those who are called liberals in
their religious views. This could not be tolerated for a moment by
those among his customers who were decided in their religious
convictions, for they were fully convinced that a person who held
such opinions was a dangerous man in any community. They therefore
withdrew their patronage, which completed the ruin of his formerly
prosperous business, for it did not afterwards pay running
expenses.

This state of things greatly alarmed Ruth, and was the source of
much sorrow. But there were greater sorrows to follow.

When we are struggling with difficulties and environed by
circumstances which have a tendency to make us miserable, we must
not imagine that we have sounded the deepest depths of the abyss
of woe, for if we do we may discover there are depths we have not
yet fathomed. This Ruth Ashton soon bitterly realized, for her
husband had of late frequently returned from the Club so much
under the influence of liquor as to be thick in his speech and
wild, extravagant and foolish in his actions, which caused her
many hours of unutterable anguish.

When he first began to drink she was not seriously alarmed, it
being the custom in England, at their convivial parties, to pledge
each other in wine; and since on such occasions it frequently
happened that they imbibed, enough, not only to make them a little
exuberant but also quite intoxicated, she thought she must not
expect her husband to be different from other men in this respect,
as it was at most only a venial offence. But now when his troubles
thickened, and his friends one after another left him, and he
began to drink more deeply to drown his cares and to stimulate him
to meet his difficulties, her partial anxiety deepened into agony,
strong and intense. She made loving remonstrance, appealing to him
if he loved wife and children to leave the "Club," and not destroy
his business and thus involve them all in ruin. Also, frequently,
when the children were fast asleep in their little cot, as she
looked with a mother's tenderness and pride upon them, thinking
what a picture of innocence and beauty they presented as their
heads nestled lovingly together on the pillow--the raven-black and
gold mingling in beautiful confusion--she would kneel beside them,
and as the deepest, holiest feelings of her heart were stirred,
she would pray that the one who was so dear to them all might be
redeemed from evil and become again a loving husband, a kind
father, and a child of God.

Richard at first received her gentle remonstrance with good-natured
banter, and generally turned it off with a playful witticism. He asked
her if she had not enough confidence in him to believe he was
sufficiently master of himself to take a glass with a friend without
degenerating into a sot, and he used very strong expletives when
speaking of those who were so weak as not to be able to take a glass
without making fools of themselves.

But he would not allow even Ruth to influence him in regard to his
political predilections, for, when she tried to persuade him to
take a more moderate course, he sternly replied he would not
desist from exercising what he believed to be his right, not even
for her, much as he loved her. He said it was his proud boast that
he was a Briton, and as such he would be free--free not only to
hold his opinions, but to act upon his convictions, and any man
who would withdraw his support from him because he would not be a
slave was a petty tyrant, and if such an one was not a Nero it was
because he lacked the power, not the spirit.

So matters went from bad to worse with Richard Ashton, not only in
regard to the moral, but, also, in the financial aspect of the
case. In fact he had soon to draw so largely on his banker that
the money his father had left him, outside of the business, began
to be seriously diminished. Josh Billings says, "When a man begins
to slide down hill he finds it greased for the occasion." And
certainly the case of Richard Ashton illustrated the truth of the
aphorism, for when he once began to go down hill his descent was
so rapid that he soon reached the bottom; and became bankrupt in
capital and character. He now began to talk of selling out and
going to America: "There," he said, with much emphasis, "I shall
be free."




CHAPTER IV.

SAILS FOR AMERICA, AND MEETS A KINDLY WELCOME.


Ruth was now suffering keenly. She loved her husband with such an
intense passion that even his folly did not cool its ardor, and
when others denounced him in the harshest terms she spoke only in
tenderness. And when many of her friends went so far as to advise
her to leave him, and so save to herself and children some remnant
of her fortune, she indignantly protested against their giving her
any such advice. She said she would remain faithful to her
marriage vow, no matter what suffering and obloquy it might
involve. Not but her idol had fallen very low. She had been so
proud of him, proud of his manly bearing, his strength of
character. Proud of his ability, which, to her, seemed to enter
the regions of genius. "Oh!" she said, as she mourned over her
blasted hopes, her vanished dream of bliss, "I never expected
this." She suffered as only such a sensitive, noble, cultured
woman could suffer, and suffered the more because she would give
voice to no complaint. The heart was at high pressure, and the
valve was close shut.

But she did not give up her endeavors to save him. She tried by
gentle endearing tenderness to win him from destruction; and when
she found this did not avail she passionately appealed to him to
stop ere he had involved them all in ruin.

"Oh Richard!" she would say, "Why do you drink? You know your
business is now nearly ruined. Your friends have nearly all
deserted you. You are fast losing your self-respect, wrecking your
health, and dragging your wife and children down with you.
Consider, my darling, what you are sacrificing, and don't be
tempted to drink again!"

She might have reminded him of how he formerly boasted of his
strength, and denounced the weakness of the habitual drunkard, but
she refrained from so doing. She determined, no matter what she
suffered, never to madden him by a taunt or unkind word, but to
save him if possible by love and gentleness. He as yet, though
harsh and peevish to others, had never spoken an unkind word to
her. He had once or twice been unnecessarily severe to the
children, which caused pain to her mother's heart, but she had by
a quiet word thrown oil upon the troubled waters of her husband's
soul, and applied a balm to the wounded hearts of her children.

Sometimes, when she with tears in her eyes appealed to him, he
would promise not to drink again. There is no doubt but it was his
intention to keep his word, but yet it was invariably broken. The
fact was he had become a slave to drink, such a slave that neither
what he owed to wife, nor children, nor man, nor God, could
restrain him. His word was broken; his honor stained, his wife and
children ruined, his God sinned against, and he had become that
thing which formerly he so despised--a poor, miserable drunkard.

His friends had seen this for some time, and now he himself could
not fail to recognize his awful situation; for his thirst for
spirituous liquor had become so strong that he would sacrifice
everything he held dear on earth to obtain it--in fact, it had
become a raging, burning fever, which nothing but rum could allay.

Reader, do not be too strong in your words of scorn and
condemnation. You may never have been tried. People who boast of
their purity and strength may never have been environed by
temptation. "Let him that is without fault cast the first stone."

Copyright (c) 2007. topbookz.net. All rights reserved.