A VISITOR FROM ENGLAND
Five years have passed away since then and now, when I again begin the
recitation of the strange events of which my house was the centre, and
I, who was then scarcely more than a child, have to record all that
happened around me when I had developed into a woman.
By this period my dearly loved father had been long dead; had been,
indeed, borne to his grave nearly four years ago, accompanied by all
that ceremony with which a Virginian gentleman is always interred; and
I ruled in his stead. Thus, you will comprehend, he had lived for some
months after he had endeavoured to slay Mr. St. Amande for his assault
upon me, and during those months we had received information about who
and what he was, though there was still more to be learnt later on.
Indeed, he had not fled our house a week ere the courier brought a
letter which had arrived from home; a letter sealed with a great seal
as big as that of the Governor of Virginia, and addressed with much
formal courtesy to "Nicholas Bampfyld, Esquire, Gentleman and Planter,
of Pomfret Manor, on the James River, partly in King and Queen, and
partly in King County, Virginia, etc." And when it was perused we
found it did indeed contain strange matter, though, strange as it was,
not difficult of understanding.
The Marquis, who wrote in his own hand, began by stating that, since
all who bore the name of St. Amande were immediate kin of his, he
thanked Mr. Bampfyld for in any way having shown kindness, which he
was not called upon to show, to the youth, Roderick St. Amande. Yet,
he proceeded to state, Mr. Bampfyld had in part been imposed upon by
that young man, since, while he was in truth an heir of the title, he
was by no means an immediate one, nor was his father really the
Viscount St. Amande. The actual possessor of that title, his lordship
said, was Gerald St. Amande, son of the late lord, his heir being
(while Gerald was unmarried and without a son) his uncle Robert,
falsely, at present, terming himself Lord St. Amande, and then, in
succession to him, Roderick St. Amande.
"But," continued the Marquis, "it was indeed most remarkable that Mr.
Bampfyld's letter should have arrived at the moment it did, for, while
he stated that he had purchased Roderick St. Amande from the captain
of a slave-trading vessel, they at home were under very grave fears
that some similar disaster had befallen Gerald, the real lord, since
he too was missing and no tidings could be gleaned of him. He had,
however, disappeared from London and not from Dublin while left alone
but a little while by a most faithful friend and companion of his (who
was now as one distracted by his loss), and they could only conjecture
that the young lord had either been stolen by kidnappers and sent to
the West Indian or the American plantations, or else impressed for
service in one of His Majesty's vessels, the press having been very
hot of late."
The Marquis added that he felt little alarm at the young lord's
future, since he knew it could only be a matter Of time as to his
release, no matter where he had been taken to, while as to Mr.
Roderick St. Amande he trusted Mr. Bampfyld would continue his
kindness to him, put him in the way of returning to his family, and
let him have what was necessary of money, for all of which he begged
Mr. Bampfyld to draw upon him as he saw fit, and the drafts should be
instantly honoured.
So, with profuse and reiterated thanks, this nobleman concluded his
letter, and at the same time stated that Mr. Roderick St. Amande might
not intentionally have intended to deceive Mr. Bampfyld as to his
proper position, since, doubtless, his own father--who was a most
unworthy and wicked person--had really fed the youth's mind with the
idea that he was the heir-apparent to the peerage.
My father never did draw on the Marquis of Amesbury for the money he
had expended, nor, indeed, would he have any mention ever made of
Roderick St. Amande, though be commissioned Gregory to sit down and
write to his lordship a full account of all the doings of that young
libertine from the time he came to us until he left, and also bade my
cousin not to omit how he had struck off his ear when he would, had he
been able, have slain him. This letter of Gregory's was not answered
until after my father had passed away, when we received another from
the Marquis full of expressions of regret for the misbehaviour of his
relative, and stating that, henceforth, he neither intended to
acknowledge Roderick nor his father as kinsmen of his. Also, he
remarked, that had Mr. Bampfyld killed the profligate he would have
only accorded him his deserts, and could have merited no blame from
honest men for doing so. Likewise, he told us that news had been heard
of the real lord, Gerald, Viscount St. Amande, who had indeed been
impressed for a seaman on board His Majesty's ship _Namur_, in which
Admiral Sir Chaloner Ogle had hoisted his flag, and that, on the
vessel having sailed the same night and he making known his condition
to the Admiral, that illustrious officer had taken him under his
charge and promised to treat him as a petty officer and promote him to
better things should his command be a long one.
This was the last letter we had from home touching this strange
matter--excepting a letter from the Marquis's secretary stating that
his lordship had not as yet been called on to honour any draft of Mr.
Bampfyld's, which he would very willingly do. Yet of the matter itself
there was now to be more trouble, ay! more dreadful, horrid trouble
than had happened up to now. This you shall see later. Meanwhile, our
life went on very peacefully at the Manor, and, when I had reconciled
myself to my dear father's loss, was not an unhappy one. Mary remained
with me ever as my friend and companion, helping me to direct the
household duties, singing and playing with me upon the spinet and the
harpsichord, riding with me sometimes to Richmond, or Norfolk, or
Williamsburg, sometimes called Middle Plantation, and assisting me in
my garden, for which she constantly obtained from her friends in
Bristol many of the dear old English plants and seeds. Yet I feared
that the day must come ere long when she would cease to be an inmate
of my house, tho' still a neighbour. For it was very evident that she
had formed an affection, which was warmly returned, for the young
Irish clergyman whom our neighbour, Mr. Cliborne, had brought out from
England on his return from his last visit there, to replace the
dissolute old man who had been Mr. St. Amande's friend and brother
carouser. This young divine was a very different kind of man from
that other, being most attentive in his duties and expounding the
Word--according to the forms of the Established Church--most
beautifully, and was, withal, a cheerful companion. He could also
write sweet verses--whereby he partly gained, I think, Mary's
heart--and he could take part in a catch or a glee admirably, so that,
when in the evening we all sang together in the saloon, the blacks
would gather round outside to hear and, sometimes, to hum in concert
with us. To add to which his learning was profound.
But what interested me more than all was that Mr. Jonathan
Kinchella--such being his name--was able to throw a thoroughly clear
light upon the whole of the transactions connected with the St. Amande
family; he could explain all that you, yourselves, know as to how the
scapegrace, Roderick, came out to Virginia, and he told us of all the
sufferings of that poor young man whom he always spoke of as Gerald,
so that we could not but weep at their recountal. For what woman's
heart, nay, what human heart, would not be touched by the
description of that poor child torn from his mother's arms, living the
life of a beggar in rags, and witnessing the funeral of his father
conducted by charity? Oh! it was pitiful, we said to one another,
pitiful; and when we knelt down to pray at night we besought a
blessing on Mr. Kinchella and on that other good Christian, Quin, the
butcher, for all that they had done for that unhappy young outcast.
But, previous to the arrival of this gentleman, I received a visit, of
which I must speak, from another person, who also seemed much
interested in those two cousins, and who, at the time when he came, I
regarded as a most kind, benevolent gentleman.
Mary and I were seated one morning in our dining-saloon, it being then
some months after my father's death, when Mungo entered the room and
said that there was, without, a gentleman on his road to the proposed
new settlement of Georgia. One who, the black added, would be very
glad if I could accord him a moment's reception, since he was a friend
of the St. Amande family, and that his name was Captain O'Rourke.
Bidding him be shown into the great saloon--for even now our curiosity
was great to hear any news about this strange family, one of whose
members, and he, doubtless, the worst, had dwelt with us--we entered
that apartment shortly afterwards, and perceived our visitor standing
at the long windows gazing down across the plantations to where the
river ran. As he turned and made us a deep and most courtly bow, we
observed that he was a gentleman of perhaps something more than
middle age, with dark rolling eyes and a somewhat rosy face, and also
that he was of large bulk. He was handsomely dressed in a dark blue
riding-frock, gold laced; with, underneath, a crimson waistcoat, and
his hat was also laced with gold.
"Ladies," he said, advancing with still another bow, "I know not which
is Mistress Bampfyld, but I thank her for her courtesy in receiving
me." Here I indicated that I was that person and that Mary was my
friend, whereon he continued:
"Therefore, madam, I thank you. As I have told your domestic, I am a
friend of the house of St. Amande, whereon, being on my way to Georgia
on a mission concerning my friend, Mr. James Oglethorpe, member of
Parliament for Haslemere in Surrey, I made bold to ride this way. For,
madam, we have heard in England that it was under your hospitable
roof, or your respected father's, that the Honourable Roderick found
shelter."
"And have you heard, sir, how he repaid that shelter?" I asked.
"I have heard nothing, madam, of that, but I trust it was as became a
gentleman."
"It was as became a villain!" exclaimed Mary.
"Heavens! madam," said the captain to her, looking most deeply
shocked. "You pain as well as surprise me. As a villain! How we must
all have been deceived in him. As a villain! Tut, tut!"
"But, sir," I asked, "you speak of him as the Honourable Roderick St.
Amande. Yet the Marquis of Amesbury has written us that he is nothing
of the sort, at present at least."
"Does he so? Does he, indeed? The Marquis! Ah! a noble gentleman and
of great friendship with Sir Robert Walpole. And on what grounds,
madam, does the Marquis write thus?"
"On the grounds that Mr. St. Amande's cousin, Gerald, is the present
Viscount St. Amande--and that consequently----"
"Ha! ha!" he interrupted me, joyfully as it seemed, "so the Marquis
does recognise Gerald! 'Tis well, very well." And here he nodded as
though pleased. "Gerald was ever my favourite. A dear lad!"
"You knew him, sir?"
"Knew him, madam!" he exclaimed; "knew him! Why, he was my tenderest
care. I was his governor for some time, and watched over him as though
he had been my son."
At this moment Mungo brought in the refreshments which in Virginia are
always offered to a caller, and the captain, seeing the various flasks
of wine and the bottles, shook his head somewhat dubiously at them,
saying he never drank till after the noon. Yet, upon persuasion, he
was induced to try a little of the rum, which he pronounced to be
excellent, and, doubtless, much relished by those who could stomach
spirits, which he could rarely do.
As for Mary and myself we were determined to gather as much
information as we could from this gallant gentleman who knew the St.
Amande family so well (never suspecting, until later, how much he was
gathering from us), so we continued our questions to him, asking him
among others if Lord Gerald, as we termed him, was handsome.
"He was a most beautiful lad," said the captain, perceiving that our
interests turned more to him than to his wretched cousin, "with
exquisite features like his sweet mother, a much injured lady. But,"
changing the subject back again, "what has become of Roderick, for, in
truth, I come more to seek after him than for aught else? His poor
father has had no news of him now for some long time; not since he
first arrived here and wrote home of all that had befallen him."
This astonished us greatly, for we had always figured to ourselves,
when talking the matter over, that Mr. St. Amande must have somehow
made his way back to Ireland in safety. So we told Captain O'Rourke of
our surprise at his information.
"When he fled," I said, "he went first to an evil-living old man, our
clergyman, now lying sick unto death from his debaucheries,"--the
captain shook his head mournfully here--"who, however, beyond giving
him a balsamic styptic for his ear would do no more, saying that he
feared my father's wrath too much. Then we learnt afterwards that he
went to the Pringle Manor, where he had become on terms of intimacy
with the young men of the family, but they, on gathering what had
happened, refused also to give him shelter, calling him vile and
ungrateful. So he went forth and has never since been heard of, tho',
indeed, sir, I do trust no ill has befallen him. Bad and wicked as he
was, we would not have him fall into the hands of the Indians, as he
might well have done."
"The Indians, madam!" exclaimed the captain, while I thought he grew
pale as he spoke. "The Indians! Would that be possible here?"
"They are ever about," I replied; "sometimes in large bodies,
sometimes creeping through the grass and the woods like snakes. When
they are together they will attack villages and townships, and when
alone, will carry off children or girls--there are many of both, who
have been carried away, living amongst them now, and have themselves
become savages--or they will steal cattle or shoot a solitary man for
his pistol or his sword."
"Faith," said the captain, "a pleasant part of the world to reside in!
Yet 'tis indeed a noble estate you have here--it reminds me somewhat
of my own in the Wicklow Mountains."
"But, sir," said Mary, "what are the chances of Lord St. Amande
obtaining his rights, now that the Marquis has declared for him?
Surely his uncle can do nothing against the truth!"
The captain mused a moment, shaking his head meditatively and as
though pondering sadly on all the wickedness that had been wrought
against that poor youth, and then he said:
"'Tis hard to tell. I fear me his uncle is a bad man--he has, indeed,
deceived me who trusted and believed in him, for he has over and over
again sworn that Gerald was not his brother's child. And I trusted
him, I say, tho' now I begin to doubt. Yet 'tis ever so in this world.
We who are of an innocent and confiding nature are made the sport of
the unscrupulous and designing."
"But," I exclaimed, "surely there is law and justice at home, and
upright judges, especially with so good a king as ours on the throne,
tho', under the wicked Stuarts, it might have been different. And the
judges of England and Ireland, with whom you doubtless are well
acquainted, would not let so base a villain as his uncle prevail."
The captain nodded and said he did indeed know many of the judges of
both countries (we learnt afterwards that he spake perfect truth), yet
he doubted. Their judgments and decisions were not always those which
he thought right nor worthy of approval; but still, with so strong a
champion as the Marquis of Amesbury at his back (who could influence
Sir Robert) he must hope that the young man would come by his own. We
pressed him to stay to dinner, to which he consented and did full
justice to our viands, praising them in a hearty, jolly fashion, and
consenting more readily than before to attempt the wines and spirits.
He also expressed much curiosity as to our convict and bond-servant
labour, taking great interest in the various characters described by
us. Indeed, at one time he testified a desire to walk down and inspect
them and their dwellings, but desisted at last, saying we had given
him such excellent accounts that he felt as if he had seen these
creatures with his own eyes. Of them all, the case of Peter Buck, a
highwayman, seemed to interest him the most, and he asked many
questions about him; as to when he had come out, what his appearance
was, and so forth. But, still, he finally decided not to go down to
the plantation and see him or the others, saying he was bound to join
a company of gentlemen at Albemarle Sound that night if possible, who
had a vessel full of Saltzburghers to be conveyed to Savannah.
"But," said he with a laugh, "I do trust, ladies, I shall meet with
none of your Indians on my ride. In battle, or with highwaymen, I know
how to comport myself, and so long as my sword is true and my pistols
well primed can hold my own. But with savages I know not what I should
do, unless it were to cut and run."
So he mounted his horse having first bade his hired guide do the same,
while we told him that his road ran too far south-east towards the
coast for him to encounter any savages; and then, having paid
courteous farewells to Mary and me, and having tossed an English gold
coin to Mungo, he saluted us once more most gracefully and rode away.