The appointed day at length arrived--it was ushered in by no cheering
omens from without or within the mansion of Mrs. Fairfax. No warbling
songsters from the feathered tribes perched upon the window of our
heroine, or hopped from flower to flower through the garden beneath, to
woo her from her slumbers; and the heavens themselves gave lowering and
sultry evidence of an approaching storm. In the east it was misty and
unsettled; while a long curtain of dark frowning clouds, heavily charged
with electric fire, hung in portentous masses along the whole line of
the western horizon. The atmosphere was hot and oppressive, the whole
aspect of the weather such as invariably casts a damp upon the spirits.
Virginia required no sweet serenade to call her from her slumbers. She
was already awake, as indeed she had been through most of the night. A
feverish dread of undefined approaching evil, had dimly floated through
her excited brain during her waking hours, and yet more shadowy horrors
disturbed her partial and unrefreshing sleep. Her morning habiliments
were donned earlier than usual, without the assistance of her Indian
attendant; yet she marvelled at her unwonted absence. She usually slept
in an adjoining apartment, and hither Virginia bent her steps to chide
the tardy maiden for her strange neglect on so important an occasion. No
little surprise was visible in her countenance, when she found not only
the apartment untenanted, but that the bed upon which Wyanokee usually
slept, was undisturbed, or that if used at all, it had been slightly
disarranged, only as if with a deceptive purpose. She repeated her name
throughout the house and garden, but no answer was returned. Her voice
soon aroused her mother, who was no less surprised at the circumstances
related by her daughter. Together they went to the apartment, and again
examined the bed, which had evidently not been slept in. And now other
appearances struck them, which had not before attracted their attention.
The dress she had worn on the previous day, hung in a closet answering
the purposes of a wardrobe, together with the whole of her apparel, the
gift of Virginia or her mother. Not an article could be recollected of
these, which was not there. They seemed, moreover, to have been
studiously arranged so as to attract attention in this particular. On
the other hand, every garment of Indian fabric which she had preserved
through her captivity, was gone. The moccasins she had worn on the
previous day--the Indian beads, wampum, and other ornaments of native
origin, were nowhere to be seen.
All the gifts of Bacon and Mr. Fairfax, some of which were of gold and
silver, were conspicuously arranged upon a shelf in the same apartment.
Many of these she had hitherto constantly worn in her ears, and upon her
wrists and ankles.
As they were pursuing their researches Virginia discovered the window of
the room in which her attendant had always slept, shut down upon the end
of an Indian arrow. She raised the sash and drew in the missile, in the
end of which, inserted in a split and bound with a strip of the fibre of
a sinew, was the identical blue feather Wyanokee had plucked from the
gory locks of the slain King Fisher, the last of the Chickahominy
chiefs. The arrow was pointed in the direction of the nation's hunting
ground. The language of these symbols Virginia understood but too well;
she had too long made Wyanokee a subject of study, as well as of
instruction, not to understand that the feather indicated her flight to
the dwellings of her tribe. She also thought she saw many collateral
indications in the time chosen for her elopement--the arrangements of
her English garments, and more especially of the gifts she had received
from Bacon. She doubted not in her own mind that the resolution of
Wyanokee was in some way connected with the approaching ceremony, but
she did not communicate her suspicions to her mother, because they were
as yet not clearly defined in her own thoughts. They received momentary
corroboration however, as many circumstances recurred to her mind,
which were trivial in themselves, but important in connexion with the
present discovery, and which have been from time to time hinted at in
the progress of our narrative.
The impression left upon the mind of our Heroine by these incidents
produced any thing but the joyous, elastic and happy mood, her young
dreams had always anticipated for her wedding day. There were many other
subjects of apprehension to mar the pleasures of the time. Governor
Berkley had left her mother's house overflowing with wrath, and
threatening speedy vengeance against her betrothed.
Few persons ever became indebted to Sir William Berkley in a matter of
personal hatred or ill will, who did not sooner or later find him a hard
and exacting creditor. With all her love for her uncle she knew his
harsh and unyielding nature, and dreaded his power.
The natural apprehensions of a modest, gentle, and tenderly educated
maiden on her wedding day, are at all times sufficiently powerful of
themselves; but joined to the unfavourable omens and sources of anxiety
by which Virginia was surrounded, they were overpowering. Her breakfast
remained before her untouched, notwithstanding her mother's endeavours
to cheer her drooping spirits.
A short and animated conversation with her lover, as the day began to
wane, partially recalled her wonted cheerfulness, but when he was gone
she relapsed into her former mood. The aspect of the heavens seemed to
her to grow momentarily more portentous. Already the thunder was heard
rolling in the west, and black masses of threatening clouds were
gradually closing in from every point of the horizon. The wrath of
Heaven itself seemed to our heroine gathering over the city. This
nervous excitement of mind will not be wondered at when it is remembered
that a short time only had intervened since dark and mysterious
injunctions had been urged against the marriage, of which the appointed
time was now so near at hand; and to this must be added the state of
alarm and agitation in which she had since been kept by insurrections,
outrages, personal strifes and deadly feuds between her friends; and
above all, by the violent and sudden death of her father. In the short
space of a few weeks her once tranquil and happy existence had been
changed into one of painful trials and vicissitudes. The night was
rapidly closing in. There hung the bridal garments, and there stood the
tire woman waiting her commands. At this juncture a carriage drove up to
the door, steps were let down, the knocker sounded, and in the next
moment the gay brides-maid bounded into the room, arrayed for the
occasion. Her countenance was radiant with smiles as she entered, but
perceiving her friend's sombre mood she walked round her sundry times
and then raised her hands and eyes in pretended astonishment, as she
exclaimed, "Do I mistake! Was it indeed to your wedding that I was
invited? For shame, Virginia! shake off these sickly fancies. Come,
rouse yourself, and I will be your tire woman. Our family will soon be
here, the carriage has gone back for them. Will that not move you? Then
your lawful lord and"--
Here Virginia rose and placed her hand upon the lips of the lively girl,
yet with a look which seemed at the same time to intimate no
unwillingness to be cajoled or rallied from her present serious humour.
The wedding was to be kept a profound secret from all but the invited
guests, and those who were to officiate at the ceremony. The former
consisted only of Mr. Harrison's family, and the latter of the clergyman
of the Established Church, who officiated at Jamestown--Charles Dudley
who was to give away the bride, and Harriet as brides-maid.
The appointed hour of nine at length arrived. Assembled in the parlour
below, the various parties awaited the appearance of the bride.
Carriages were already at the door; the chapel lighted, and the priest
habited in the robes of his sacred office.
Bacon, after sundry movements towards the door at which she was expected
to enter, could subdue his impatience no longer, and at once mounted the
staircase. He met the two maidens on their way down; Virginia apparently
having imbibed some of her friend's spirit and vivacity, which she so
much needed. She placed her hand timidly but confidingly in that of
Bacon as they entered the room. Both she, and her attendant, were
robed in virgin white--and certainly never were dresses more
appropriate;--they were both young, innocent, beautiful, and intensely
interesting, in the position which they now occupied.
Bacon and Dudley were dressed exactly alike, and rather in the costume
of the preceding, than of the present reign; the latter not yet having
made its way to Jamestown. They wore doublets of scarlet velvet, with
large loose sleeves slashed up the front; the collar covered by a
falling band of the richest point lace, with a vandyke edging. Their
breeches were of white silk, and fringed at the bottom, where they
united with their silk stockings, amidst a profusion of ribands and
ornaments of lace. Their shoes were ornamented over the buckle straps,
with white bridal roses wrought in silk. Hanging gallantly upon one
shoulder, they wore the short and graceful blue cloak of the period: not
in such a manner, however, as to conceal in any degree the gay
appearance of the costume which it completed, but so as to be thrown
aside and resumed at a moment's notice. This latter article being light
and graceful, and worn more for ornament than use, was always thrown
aside for the military buff coat on warlike occasions.
The party, preceded by the priest, entered the waiting vehicles. Just as
they were seated according to the order of previous arrangement, a
vivid flash of lightning shot athwart the horizon, succeeded by a crash
of thunder loud and fearful, as if the eternal hills themselves had
again been shattered into chaos. The females drew themselves into the
corners of the carriage, covering their eyes, and the gentlemen were
silent, while the God of the Universe, spoke through his thunders.
The drive to the church was as short as it was silent. The priest
entered his desk and laid open the sacred volume, while the various
parties arranged according to order in a semicircle round the altar,
waited upon his words.
The chapel was dimly lighted, except immediately around the parties, in
accordance with the strict privacy of the celebration. Mrs. Fairfax was
as calm and benignant as was consistent with her usual settled
melancholy. Virginia was pale as a marble statue, her head just
sufficiently inclined forward to suspend her bridal veil in graceful and
flowing folds before her exquisitely formed figure. Harriet's vivacity
was subdued to respectful and mute attention. The sound of the
clergyman's voice could just be heard at intervals between the awful
peals of thunder, while the lurid flashes contrasting with the feeble
rays of the lamps, rendered the surrounding gloom more impressive. The
words which fell from the lips of the sacred functionary were something
like the following:
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and
in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in
holy matrimony; which is an honourable estate instituted of God in the
time of man's innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is
betwixt Christ and his church; which holy estate Christ adorned and
beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana
of Galilee; and is commended of Saint Paul to be honourable among all
men; and therefore is not by any to be enterprised or taken in hand
unadvisedly--lightly, or wantonly--to satisfy men's carnal lusts and
appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently,
discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in fear of God, duly considering the
causes for which matrimony was ordained.
"First, it was ordained for the procreation of children to be brought up
in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy name.
"Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid
fornication, that such persons as have not the gift of continency might
marry and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ's body.
"Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort that
the one ought to have of the other--both in prosperity and adversity.
"Into which holy estate, these two persons present come now to be
joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not
lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for
ever hold his peace."
A solemn silence prevailed through the dimly lighted aisles, as the
usual pause was allowed for the answer. At this juncture, and while the
small party around the altar held their breath in mute astonishment and
wonder, the door was rudely thrust open, and a gigantic figure strode
down the hollow sounding aisle. His heavy footfalls rung upon Virginia's
sensitive organs like the funeral knell of departed peace. He walked
directly towards the altar, until he stood immediately behind the
youthful pair about to plight their faith, his tall figure towering far
above their heads.[5] Over his face he held a black mask, as he thus
spoke, in answer to the general challenge of the priest.
[Footnote 5: The reader will perceive when the proper time comes for
disclosing from what authentic annals this character is taken--that we
have but described his person, as the grave words of History portrayed
him.]
"Well mayest thou say that now or never is the time to speak the just
cause which interposes to prevent the consummation of this union. That
cause know I. But its revelation, now rendered imperative, will be like
unto tearing up with irreverent hands the mysterious secrets of the
charnel house beneath our feet. Oh God, why could not this duty have
been spared to me!"
His huge frame shuddered with convulsive emotion as he paused and seemed
to view from beneath his mask his astounded and breathless auditors. The
clergyman seized the opportunity to repeat with solemnity the challenge.
"If any man can show any just cause why this youthful pair may not
lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for
ever hold his peace!"
"They cannot lawfully be joined together because they are the children
of the same mother!"
The silence of death prevailed throughout the chapel. Respiration and
reflection itself seemed suspended upon the awful announcement of the
Recluse, while he fell back upon one of the seats of the aisle and
covered his face with his hands in unutterable anguish.
Mrs. Fairfax had been visibly agitated from the first moment of this
startling interruption, by some more dreadful emotion than the surprise
and vague alarm of those about her, but now desperation itself nerved
her sinking powers, as she stepped a pace forward and uttered in a
distinct voice. "It is false! proceed with the ceremony." Harrison and
Dudley instinctively felt for their arms, the former exclaiming, "He is
mad--staring mad! be it our business to prevent this irreverent
interruption!"
But the Recluse immediately sprung upon his feet, throwing his mask upon
the floor as he stood full in front of Mrs. Fairfax, and exclaimed,
pointing with his index finger to his time-worn countenance; "Look thou
upon these long forgotten lineaments, and then upon these (laying his
hand upon Bacon's head) and testify before Heaven and earth whether I
have not spoken truth! a fearful truth!"
The person appealed to stood for some moments like a statue, her eyes
protruding from their sockets, as if a tenant of the grave indeed stood
before her--her hand at length slowly rose from her side and wandered
through the vacant air as if she would have submitted the spectre to the
test of feeling--imperfectly measuring the distance however between her
own person and the object sought, it fell again powerless by her side.
Her lips moved as if she were in the act of holding a conversation with
the being who had addressed her, but no sound issued from them. The
pupils of her eyes were painfully distended, and their whole expression
wild and bewildered. At length her chest began to heave convulsively,
when she made a wild and desperate effort to rush upon the object of her
gaze, but fell prostrate on the floor before she had attained half the
distance between them. As she fell she cried in the most piteous
accents, "Charles! Charles!" and then swooned away.
Charles Dudley, who had till now assisted Bacon in supporting his
fainting bride, resigned his charge to Mr. Harrison and ran to Mrs.
Fairfax, supposing himself to be the person thus piteously
apostrophized. He took the fallen lady in his arms and raised her partly
from the floor, but no symptoms of returning animation were visible.
While he thus supported her head upon one knee, kneeling upon the other,
assisted by the clergyman and friends, and Bacon and Mr. Harrison
supporting Virginia, who was in little better condition, a tumultuous
crowd rushed in at the door, headed by Sir William Berkley himself,
exclaiming to his minions, "Tear him from the altar! tear the upstart
from the altar."
But as he ran with his drawn sword towards the pulpit, something in the
attitude and expression of the various parties at once arrested his hand
and voice.
There is a power of expression in deep and irremediable sorrow which
cannot be looked upon without emotion. Boisterous and outrageous as Sir
William Berkley had entered the chapel, his fierce nature was instantly
subdued by the appearance of his sister-in-law and her daughter. The
crowd which followed were instinctively awed into silence by the same
powerful and speaking appeals.
When the announcement of the lawful cause which prevented the
consummation of the union first fell upon Bacon's ear, his head sank
upon his breast, and although he mechanically clasped Virginia round the
waist, as he felt her clinging to him, and sinking at his side; he stood
stupefied with horror, holding up his lifeless burden, entirely enable
to think or act. His habitual and superstitious reverence for every
thing uttered by the Recluse, induced him to receive the first
impression of his words unchallenged even in his own mind.
By the time that Sir William Berkley and his party arrived, the Recluse
had disappeared; every one was so much absorbed by the instant and
pressing calls for assistance and sympathy from the suffering females,
that the time of his departure was entirely unnoticed.
The Governor had no sooner recovered from his first shock and surprise,
than he made his way to one of the young Harrisons to learn the cause of
the present appearance of the parties, so different from what he had
been taught to expect. Although he did not believe that there was one
word of truth in the cause assigned for the interruption of the
ceremony, he was well enough satisfied that the parties themselves, and
Mrs. Fairfax should believe it. No matter to him what horrors they
suffered, he considered it all but a just punishment for their attempted
mesalliance. As for Bacon, and his horror-stricken feelings, Sir William
did not deign to bestow a thought or word upon them, after the first
hasty exclamation with which he had entered the door. By his orders, the
female sufferers were placed in a carriage, and removed to his own
house. Bacon resigned his charge with a listless apathy, bordering on
stupefaction, and to a superficial observer, such would doubtless have
been the impression; but his was the deadly deceitful calm which
precedes the coming storm. The most horrible of all human sufferings is
that where no tear is or can be shed--where no enemy presents himself
for vengeance--no hope for the future, all having been perilled and
lost upon a single throw. Bacon felt himself thus situated--the
cherished hopes of a lifetime were blasted in an instant, not only for
the present, but under such circumstances as to cut off all hope for the
future. The object of his passion could not henceforth be enshrined in a
holy secret worship of the soul, such as is sometimes kept up through a
long life of celibacy for the lost one.
No mortified pride arose to his relief! he could not hate--he dared not
love the object around which his whole heart and soul were entwined. The
very light of his eyes--the sun of his existence--his delights of the
present--hopes of the future--all, all were blotted from existence in a
moment. The very retrospects of the past were poisoned. Could he bear to
dwell upon the enrapturing delights of their young loves, when the
object and participator was now discovered to be his own sister? To
whichever aspect of the case he turned, he as speedily revolted in
horror. It was while these things were tearing and racking his soul,
that he appeared to feel externally less than might have been expected.
His mind and feelings were precipitately rolled back upon their own
resources, and the suddenly dammed up waters of bitterness sought vent
at every avenue. Virginia was no sooner taken from him, however, than
his perceptions seemed roused at once to the full horror and
hopelessness of his fate. Without his castor, and still decked in his
gay bridal attire, he burst from the crowd, prostrating the Governor's
minions to the right and left, as he felled a passage to the door. His
eye had lost its abstracted expression; it was deadly fierce and
terrifically wild as he rushed forth into the kindred storm without--no
one knew whither.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.