An Elopement—Marriage Under Difficulties.
A marriage, under trying circumstances, took place in Waterford a few nights since in the following manner: A few years ago there lived in Troy a family by the name of S—h, consisting of father, mother and a little daughter named Ella. When Ella was quite young her mother died. Not long after the death of the mother, her father married again. Shortly afterwards Mr. S—h concluded to move out West. Ella determined not to accompany him, and accordingly sought a home with Mr. E—, a blacksmith living at the Junction [Melrose] about six miles from Lansingburgh, with whom she has lived as an adopted daughter up to within a few days. At Grant’s Hollow, about a mile and a half South of the Junction, near the new school house, there lives—or did live—a family by the name of O—r [Overocker], consisting of parents and one child, a fine, industrious and sober son, whom the old people doted upon. This son’s name was Elmer; he was twenty-one years and five months old. Elmer and Ella—two beautiful names——met often, and soon their acquaintance ripened into friendship; from friendship into love. Ella was seventeen years old, as beautiful and charming as a rosebud. Mr. C., her guardian, was strictly opposed to her keeping the company of Elmer, and in consequence their meetings were held almost privately. One moonlight night, witht he stars looking calmy down upon them, they fervently registered their vows in heaven to become one and inseparable. Ella knew full well that it would be a matter of utter impossibility to secure the consent of her kind benefactor; therefore a clandestine marriage was arranged. Elmer would go to Lansingburgh and buy a new satchel, and return after dark. Ella, in the meantime, would gather her wedding articles into a bundle and secrete them in the tall grass behind the fence skirting the roadside. These Elmer was to secure and take home with him, place them into the new satchel, and the following day, toward evening, he was to drive near Mr. C.’s house, bringing the satchel. Ella would quietly leave the house, cross over the clover field, and then—ah! what then? So it all came about to perfection.
“From cottage roof the blue smoke curled,
From meadows shrieked the plover;
Down the hill side the village girl
Tripped o’er the scented clover.”
With a fainting heart, like a little bird trying to escape from its iron cage, Ella reached the carriage on the road where Elmer waited her coming. Once in the wagon and, away! Suppose Mr. C. should discover her escape, would he not give chase? “G’lang there,—take care—steady!” exclaimed the lover, as the noble animal sprang into increased speed, as if she understood the necessity of the moment. Over the road they rattled, the dust rising in clouds behind them towards a clear azure sky. On, on they sped! The sun was calmly falling in the distant West, causing long shadows from the tall pines to fall heavy upon valley, hill and dale. The rippling streams murmured musically as they passed gently along through the dense green wood, while the birds skipping among the emerald boughts sung as if sighs and tears were things unknown on earth. And so they wended their way, with thoughts as pure and harmonious as the quiet and peaceful scenery around them. Spiegletown is reached. The Methodist minister is out of the village. This is a great disappointment. What next? Lansingburgh is only three miles away. On to the ‘burgh! It was the longest three miles they had ever ridden. The top of Oil Mill Hill was reached and there, a mile below, clusted amid hundreds of shade trees, quietly repising in the valley, was the beautiful village of Lansingburgh, where the Rev. Mr. Graham resides.—Down the lonely hill they drove, following the sun as it gently and almost imperceptibly disappeared in the far West in one grand halo of glory. A short drive through the streets of the village brought them to Mr. Graham’s house. He was out of town and would not be home for a day or two. This was sad enough. “But why not get married by a Presbyterian minister?” suggested Ella. “No; that would not do. Mother never, never would forgive me,” answered the young hero. A Methodist minister certainly would be found in Waterford. In that direction they moved. Night’s dusky mantle was softly and quietly falling upon surrounding objects, and to the two lovers everything looked dark and gloomy. It was a long, dark and dreary ride through the ally-lighted bridge, but with hearts full of hope—oh, what a word, HOPE! it cheers and brightens at the darkest hour—they press on. The dominie’s house was reached. He was out of town. What’s to be done now? Give it up and go home? Not by any means. Crest-fallen and disappointed, yet they were not discouraged. The quiet loungers upon the stoop of the Morgan House were somewhat startled at seeing a dark bay, her sides streaming with sweat, drive up under the gas light and stop. Elmer alighted. He informed the ever-obliging “Guss” of his business. “Would a Justice do?” “Yes.” A room was secured, the satchel opened, the “wedding things” brought out, Ella was soon arrayed in her best—the clothes she wore when she left the Junction packed away into the satchel—Justice Creamer arrived, the knot was tied, expenses paid, the horse brought out and headed for Grant’s Hollow, where the elopers are now living as happy as clams in high water.
Troy Daily Times. August 23, 1871: 3 col 3.