VILLICA.
Villica, the inheritance of Waldemar Nordeck, was situated in one of
the eastern provinces of Germany, and consisted of several large
estates whose central point was the old castle of Villica. The manner
in which the late Nordeck had come into possession of this estate, and
had finally won the hand of the Princess Maryna, affords only a new
example of the spectacle so often repeated in our day,--the decline of
an old, noble, and once wealthy family, and the rise of a new, plebeian
element, with whose wealth comes also the power which once belonged
wholly to the aristocracy.
Count Morynski and his sister had been left orphans in childhood, and
had lived under the guardianship of their relatives. Maryna was
educated in a convent, and before she left its walls a marriage had
been arranged for her. Among noble families this is nothing unusual,
and the young countess would have made no protest if the husband chosen
for her had been her equal in birth, or a son of her own people. She
had, however, been selected as a passive instrument for the carrying
out of family plans.
In the neighborhood where the Morynski family had lived for
generations, a certain Nordeck suddenly appeared. He was a German of
plebeian birth, but he had amassed great wealth,--enough to acquire
large landed possessions in these troublous times, when the old
nobility were fugitives or impoverished in consequence of the
sacrifices they had made for their country. He had purchased several
incumbered estates at half their value, and had all at once become one
of the richest proprietors in the country.
Although the new-comer was a man of narrow culture, rough manners, and
questionable morality, his immense possessions gave him very great
influence, which he used unscrupulously against the Poles and their
cause. Through some secret means this wily stranger gained an insight
into certain party schemes, which made him a most dangerous enemy, and
his friendship must be won at any price. As the millionnaire could not
be approached with a bribe, it was thought best to flatter his vanity
by the proposal of a marriage alliance with some noble Polish family.
Villica manor had once been in the possession of the Morynski family,
and for this reason the now penniless daughter of a once wealthy house
was chosen as the sacrifice. The uncouth parvenu, who needed no dowry
with his bride, and who felt flattered at the proposal of an alliance
with a countess, eagerly consented to the plan. And so Maryna, when she
left the cloister, found a destiny arranged for her at which her whole
soul rebelled.
Her first step was a decided refusal. But what availed the No of a girl
of seventeen years, in a matter urged on by policy as well as
necessity? When commands and threats proved useless, persuasion and
flattery were tried. She was reminded of the brilliant role she could
play as mistress of Villica; of the absolute sway so young, beautiful,
and high-born a wife must gain over the mind of her plebeian husband.
Would it not be a satisfaction to her to become mistress of the
estates wrested from her ancestors; to change the dreaded enemy into a
friend,--into a pliant tool of the party which was seeking the
liberation of her native land? Persuasion triumphed where compulsion
failed. The life of a poor, dependent relation was not at all to the
taste of the young countess. She was exceedingly ambitious, and her
heart knew nothing as yet of love. Nordeck seemed very much in love
with her, and she had reason to believe that her power over him would
be boundless. So she finally yielded, and the marriage took place. All
parties were doomed to disappointment; Nordeck proved to be no such man
as they had thought. Instead of yielding to the will of his young wife,
he asserted his own authority, and could neither be cajoled nor
intimidated. When he discovered that Maryna had designed to use his
interest and his property for the benefit of her family and friends,
his love was turned to hatred. The birth of an heir made no change in
the situation; the breach between the husband and wife seemed rather to
widen. Nordeck's character was not one to win a wife's respect, and
this wife showed her contempt in ways that would have exasperated any
man. Terrible scenes followed, after one of which the young mistress of
Villica left the castle and fled to the protection of her brother.
The child, Waldemar, now scarcely a year old, was left with his father.
Nordeck, furious at his wife's departure, imperiously demanded her
return; Bronislaw did what he could to protect his sister, and the
consequences would have been serious if death had not unexpectedly
dissolved this unholy marriage. Nordeck was fatally injured by a fall
from his horse while hunting. But even when dying, he retained strength
and presence of mind enough to dictate a will, debarring his wife from
any share in his property, or any part in the education of the child.
Her flight from his house gave him the right to disinherit her, and he
used it pitilessly. Waldemar was placed under the guardianship of Herr
Witold, his father's chosen friend and distant relative, who was given
full control of the boy during his minority.
The new guardian proved his sincere friendship for his deceased
relative by rigidly executing the conditions of the will, and by
rejecting all the widow's claims. Witold was then proprietor of
Altenhof, and not disposed to reside at Villica; he therefore took his
ward to Altenhof, and from infancy to majority the young heir visited
his estates but seldom, and then in his guardian's company. The immense
income of Villica, of which no use could be made during the boy's
minority, was added to the original inheritance, and upon becoming of
age, Waldemar Nordeck found himself one of the wealthiest citizens of
the country.
For a time, Nordeck's widow lived with her brother, who had meantime
married; but a frequent visitor at the house, Prince Zulieski, fell
passionately in love with the young, handsome, and gifted woman, and at
the expiration of the conventional year of mourning they were married.
This second marriage proved very happy; and yet it was truly asserted
that the prince, who possessed a chivalrous but not energetic nature,
was entirely under his wife's control, his all-absorbing love for his
wife and son making even submission a delight.
The happiness of this union was not to remain long unclouded; but the
storm that now threatened came from without. Leo was an infant at the
outbreak of that great revolution which ere long overspread half of
Europe. In this Polish province, insurrection, so often quelled, broke
out with renewed fury. Zulieski and Morynski were true sons of Poland;
they flung themselves ardently into the strife for the independence of
their country. This revolt, like so many previous ones, was forcibly
suppressed, and the Polish provinces were treated with especial
severity. Prince Zulieski and his brother-in-law fled to France, where
they were soon joined by their wives and children. The Countess
Morynski, a delicate, sickly woman, did not long endure the sojourn in
a foreign land. She died at the expiration of a year, and Count
Morynski placed his young daughter in his sister's care.
He could not remain in Paris, where everything reminded him of the loss
of his idolized wife. He wandered to and fro, without any fixed abode,
coming only at long intervals to see his daughter. Finally a
declaration of amnesty permitted him to return home, where a large
estate had fallen to him by the death of a relative. Here he settled
down permanently. Prince Zulieski, having been one of the leaders of
the insurrection, and not being included in the amnesty, was obliged to
remain in exile. After his death, his wife and son, who had shared his
banishment to the last, returned to their native land.