Lady Baltimore | Page 3

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LADY BALTIMORE
BY OWEN WISTER

To S. Weir Mitchell With the Affection and Memories of All My Life

To the Reader
You know the great text in Burns, I am sure, where he wishes he could
see himself as others see him. Well, here lies the hitch in many a work
of art: if its maker--poet, painter, or novelist--could but have become its

audience too, for a single day, before he launched it irrevocably upon
the uncertain ocean of publicity, how much better his boat would often
sail! How many little touches to the rigging he would give, how many
little drops of oil to the engines here and there, the need of which he
had never suspected, but for that trial trip! That's where the
ship-builders and dramatists have the advantage over us others: they
can dock their productions and tinker at them. Even to the musician
comes this useful chance, and Schumann can reform the proclamation
which opens his B-flat Symphony.
Still, to publish a story in weekly numbers previously to its appearance
as a book does sometimes give to the watchful author an opportunity to
learn, before it is too late, where he has failed in clearness; and it brings
him also, through the mails, some few questions that are pleasant and
proper to answer when his story sets forth united upon its journey of
adventure among gentle readers.
How came my hero by his name?
If you will open a book more valuable than any I dare hope to write,
and more entertaining too, The Life of Paul Jones, by Mr. Buell, you
will find the real ancestor of this imaginary boy, and fall in love with
John Mayrant the First, as did his immortal captain of the Bon Homme
Richard. He came from South Carolina; and believing his seed and
name were perished there to-day, I gave him a descendant. I have
learned that the name, until recently, was in existence; I trust it will not
seem taken in vain in these pages.
Whence came such a person as Augustus?
Our happier cities produce many Augustuses, and may they long
continue to do so! If Augustus displeases any one, so much the worse
for that one, not for Augustus. To be sure, he doesn't admire over
heartily the parvenus of steel or oil, whose too sudden money takes
them to the divorce court; he calls them the 'yellow rich'; do you object
to that? Nor does he think that those Americans who prefer their
pockets to their patriotism, are good citizens. He says of such people
that 'eternal vigilance cannot watch liberty and the ticker at the same

time.' Do you object to that? Why, the young man would be perfect, did
he but attend his primaries and vote more regularly,--and who wants a
perfect young man?
What would John Mayrant have done if Hortense had not challenged
him as she did?
I have never known, and I fear we might have had a tragedy.
Would the old ladies really have spoken to Augustus about the love
difficulties of John Mayrant?
I must plead guilty. The old ladies of Kings Port, like American
gentlefolk everywhere, keep family matters sacredly inside the family
circle. But you see, had they not told Augustus, how in the world could
I have told--however, I plead guilty.
Certain passages have been interpreted most surprisingly to signify a
feeling against the colored race, that is by no means mine. My only
wish regarding these people, to whom we owe an immeasurable
responsibility, is to see the best that is in them prevail. Discord over
this seems on the wane, and sane views gaining. The issue sits on all
our shoulders, but local variations call for a sliding scale of policy. So
admirably dispassionate a novel as The