O let me view, in annual succession, my children, friends, and
relatives. Those that in friendship's bonds are linked together
by ties of dear remembrance.
The scene was highly animated, and the days were delightfully pleasant,
when Alida returned with her parents to the country. The showers of
April had cleared the atmosphere and revived the earth with a lively
gaiety. The ice in the bay and river had melted away, and the steamboat
had again began its course. The rumbling water-fall was again heard at
the mill, the pensive stream stole its way through the forest,
reflecting from its lucid bosom the light cloud which dwelt in the
air--floating on the gentlest zephyrs. The hills and mountains teemed
with verdure, and the serpentine valleys were shaded by a friendly
foliage. All nature flourished, grew, and expanded, calling forth
ejaculations of gratitude and piety, and boldly declaring that a
celestial Being overshadows us with his providence.
[_Alida_ page 131 (chapter XVI):
while the gentle murmuring of the water-fall at the mill, with its
rumbling cadence over the dam, was heard at a little distance.]
As soon as the family were settled in the country, the parents of Alida
made preparation to call the children together in commemoration of their
father's birthday. When the time arrived for the celebration of this
festive scene, the morning arose with every beauty that could bid fair
for a cheerful day, and the company assembled at an early hour. Bonville
was among those who arrived from the village. He appeared in excellent
spirits, as if some new thought had entered his mind, which had given
him new hopes of success. He informed Alida, in the course of the
afternoon, that he had received intimation from a friend in England,
that Theodore was now living in London. After hazarding many conjectures
respecting him, he then ventured to add that he hoped he had not met
there any new object, to cause him to become forgetful of former
friends.
[The Story of an Unfortunate Young Lady (in _The Lady's
Miscellany_, 1811):
The morning of my unhappy existence arose with every beauty that
could bid fair for a cheerful day.]
Displeasure was manifest in the countenance of Alida, at this suspicion,
although she feared it might be true. Theodore had promised to be
faithful in a correspondence, and he certainly might have found
opportunities, since the happy change of affairs in the country, to make
some communications to his friends, if he had been so disposed. Again
she thought, as they had been separated by parental authority, that it
might have its influence to cause him to become altogether forgetful;
and her spirits now sunk under the idea of Theodore's inconstancy.
Bonville continued to speak of him with indifference, observing
attentively how Alida was affected. He inquired earnestly if she had
ever received any intelligence from him, during his absence, (as he
thought he might have written to her brother.) She answered him in the
negative. He expressed his surprise, and after giving many dark
intimations of his perfidy, he changed the subject.
[_Alida_ page 125 (chapter XV):
He then gave some dark intimations against his general
character....]
Alida was before this extremely pensive and thoughtful, and these
injurious insinuations of Theodore, increased her dejection. She once
firmly believed she had a friend she could lean upon under all
circumstances, and his falsity appeared to her now confirmed. A kind of
gloomy superstition pervaded her mind, an anxious foreboding of future
evil, which all her pious reflections and reasoning powers could not
wholly control. She endeavoured to repress these painful sensations,
when in the presence of her parents; but the eyes of her father
frequently rested on her in filial anxiety. Her brother likewise would
often observe her innate sadness, and whatever his thoughts might be as
to the cause, he was still reserved, and forebore to name any thing to
his sister.
Although Bonville was sometimes conscious of his injustice towards
Theodore, and felt ashamed of his conduct, he was still determined to
proceed with reiterated calumnies, to the ear of Alida, with the hope to
ensure to himself her hand before Theodore would probably return to
America.
L' innocenza a e costretta a sofferire, talvolta le piu crudeli
persecuzioni; ma, con vergogna e con danno della calumnia e della
malvagita, alla fine pur ne trionfa.
[Francesco Soave: "Federigo Lanucci" (here taken from _Novelle
morali_, 1837):
"L'innocenza e costretta a sofferire talvolta le piu terr ibili
persecuzioni; ma con vergogna e con danno della calunnia,
e della malvagita, alla fine pur ne trionfa."]
The appearance of Bonville was imposing to look upon, his countenance
illumined by seeming sincerity and candour, no one could retain an idea
for any length of time, that was altogether detrimental. To a
treacherous heart, he joined a frankness of manner which amused and
interested every one in his favour. Though no one was ever more careless
of his veracity, yet he carried the appearance of authenticity in all he
said. He had never been used to restraint or disappointment, by the
silly indulgence of his parents, and seemed confident that he should
succeed in all his particular wishes, and thought that all obstacles
could be surmounted by his own machinations and management.
The evening was drawing near its close by a round of innocent
amusements, when a letter was handed Alida from her father, that he had
received from a friend in the city. It contained the unwelcome and
unexpected news of the death of Mr. Bolton, who arrived at Savannah at
an unfavourable season of the year, at a period when an epidemic fever
prevailed. He caught the infection, and a few days terminated the
existence of this amiable and accomplished youth. He was pious,
benevolent and charitable. He possessed a wisdom firm and unchangeable,
strictly adhering to the principles of the church and the Christian
religion, and was steadfast in his opinions against all opposition. He
was deeply regretted by a numerous acquaintance. His aunt mourned the
loss of her favourite nephew, and Alida's father likewise deplored his
premature death, although he had thought proper to oppose his wishes.
[Transcriber's Note:
Chapters XXIV-XXVII are taken from _Travels in North America_
(see Sources section).
Ellipses (....) represent longer omissions, generally two or more
full sentences; shorter omissions are retained. In particular,
_Alida_ omits all passages having to do with either American Indians
or religious communities. Aside from omitted material, most
quotations are verbatim except for changes of person (from "I" or
"we" to "Alida" or "the group").
The dramatic date of these chapters is summer 1815, or ten years
before Karl Bernhard's visit. Note in particular the references to
the Erie Canal and to the Superintendent of West Point.]