_The Marriage--The Intoxicated Rector--Miseries of an aged Bridegroom on
his Wedding Night._
Mrs. Belmont was seated in the elegant parlor of her residence in Reade
street. It was the evening appointed for her marriage with Mr. Hedge,
and she was dressed in bridal attire--a spotless robe of virgin white
well set off her fine form and rich complexion, while a chaplet of white
roses made a beautiful contrast with the dark, luxuriant hair on which
it rested.
A superb French clock on the marble mantel piece proclaimed in silvery
tones, the hour of seven.
'He will soon be here,' she murmured--'to carry me to the house of the
clergyman, there to be made his wife. How little the fond, foolish old
man suspects the snare in which he is about to fall! How admirably have
my artifices deceived him! And the other evening when in the heat of
passion, he pressed me to grant him a certain favor in advance of our
marriage, how well I affected indignation, and made him beg for
forgiveness! Oh, he thinks me the most virtuous of my sex--but there is
his carriage; now for the consummation of my hopes!'
Mr. Hedge entered the room, and raising her jewelled hand to his lips,
kissed it with rapture. The old gentleman was dressed in a style quite
juvenile;--his coat was of the most modern cut, his vest and gloves
white, and his cambric handkerchief fragrant with _eau de cologne_. To
make himself look as young as possible, he had dyed his gray hair to a
jet black, and his withered cheeks had been slightly tinged with
_rouge_, to conceal the wrinkles, and give him a youthful, fresh
appearance. He certainly looked twenty years younger than ever, but he
could not disguise his infirm gait and the paralytic motions of his
body.
But let not the reader suppose that he was either a superannuated
coxcomb or a driveling dotard. He was a man of sense and feeling, but
his passion for Julia had, for the time, changed all his manner and
habits.--He saw that she was a young and lovely woman, about to give
herself to the arms of a man thrice her age; and he wished to render the
union less repugnant to her, by appearing to be as youthful as possible
himself. Therefore, he had made up his toilet as we have described, not
from personal vanity, but from a desire to please his intended bride.
We wish not to disguise the fact that Mr. Hedge was an exceedingly
amorous old gentleman; and that in taking Julia to his matrimonial
embrace, he was partially actuated by the promptings of the flesh. But
in justice to him we will state that these were not the only
considerations which had induced him to marry her; he wanted a companion
and friend--one whose accomplishments and buoyancy of spirits would
serve to dispel the loneliness and _ennui_ of his solitary old age. Such
a person he fancied he had found in the young, beautiful 'widow,' Mrs.
Belmont.
'Sweetest Julia,' said the aged bridegroom, enclosing her taper waist
with her arm--'the carriage is at the door, and all is in readiness to
complete our felicity. To-night we will revel in the first joys of our
union in my own house--to-morrow, as you have requested, we depart for
Boston.'
'Ah, dearest,' murmured Julia, as her ripe lips were pressed to
his--'you make me so happy! How young you look tonight! What raptures I
anticipate in your arms! Feel how my heart beats with the wildness of
passion!'
She placed his hand into her fair, soft bosom, and he felt that her
heart was indeed throbbing violently; yet 'twas not with amorous
passion, as she had said; no, 'twas with fierce triumph at the success
of her schemes.
The contact of his hand with her voluptuous charms, inflamed him with
impatient desire.
'Come,' cried he,--'let us no longer defer the blissful hour that gives
you to my arms.'
In a few minutes Julia was ready; and the happy pair, seating themselves
in the carriage, were driven to the abode of Dr. Sinclair, who was to
perform the marriage ceremony.
We said _happy_ pair--yes, they were indeed so; the old gentleman was
happy in the prospect of having such a beautiful creature to share his
fortune and bed; and the young lady was happy in the certainty of having
secured a husband whose wealth would enable her to live in luxury and
splendor.
They arrive at the rector's residence, and are ushered into a spacious
apartment. Everything is handsome and costly, yet everything is in
disorder; judging from appearances one would suppose that the place was
occupied by a gentleman of intemperate habits--not by a minister of the
gospel. The rich carpet is disfigured with many stains, which look
marvelously like the stains produced by the spilling of port wine. The
mirror is cracked; the sofa is daubed with mud; a new hat lies crushed
beneath an overturned chair. An open Bible is upon the table, but on it
stand a decanter and a wine-glass; and the sacred page is stained with
the blood-red juice of the grape. On the mantle-piece are books, thrown
in a confused pile; the collection embraces all sorts--Watts' hymn book
reposes at the side of the 'Frisky Songsters,' the Pilgrim's Progress
plays hide-and-seek with the last novel of Paul de Kock; while 'Women of
Noted Piety' are in close companionship with the 'Voluptuous Turk.'
Soon the rector enters, and there is something in his appearance
peculiar, if not suspicious. His disordered dress corresponds with his
disordered room. His coat is soiled and torn, his cravat is put on awry,
and his linen is none of the cleanest. He salutes Brother Hedge and his
fair intended, in an unsteady voice, while his eyes wander vacantly
around the apartment, and he leans against a chair for support.
'How very strangely he looks and acts,' whispered Julia to her frosty
bridegroom--'surely he can't be _tipsy_?'
'Of course not,' replied Mr. Hedge--'such a supposition with reference
to our beloved pastor would be sacrilege. He is only somewhat agitated;
he is extremely sensitive, and deep study has doubtless operated to the
injury of his nervous system. My dear Brother Sinclair, we are waiting
for you to perform the ceremony,' he added, in a louder tone.
'Waiting--ceremony--' said the rector, abstractedly, gazing upward at
the ceiling--'Oh, marriage ceremony, you mean? Ah, yes, I had forgotten.
Certainly. Quite right, Brother Hedge, or Ditch--ha, ha! Excuse me. All
ready.'
We shall not attempt to imitate the rector, in his manner of performing
the ceremony, as we deem the matter to be too serious for jest; but we
will say, never before was ceremony performed in so strange a manner.
However, to all intents and purposes, they were married; and at the
conclusion of the service, the bridegroom slipped a fifty-dollar note
into the rector's hand, and then conducted his lovely bride to the
carriage, in which they were soon driven to Mr. Hedge's residence in
Hudson street.
In explanation of the singular conduct of Dr. Sinclair, we will state
that he became a wine-bibber and a drunkard. Remorse for his amorous
follies with Josephine, and horror at her crimes, had driven him to
drown such painful remembrances in the bottle. The very next day after
he had accused the mother and daughter of the murder, he drank himself
into a state of intoxication, and each subsequent day witnessed a
renewal of the folly. On the Sabbath, he managed to preserve a
tolerably decent degree of sobriety, but his appearance plainly
indicated a recent debauch, and his style of preaching was tame and
irregular. His congregation viewed him with suspicion and distrust
privately; but as yet, no public charge had been made against him. He
knew very well that he could not long continue in his own unworthy
course, and be a minister of the gospel; he plainly saw the precipice
over which he hung--but with mad infatuation he heeded not the danger,
and rushed onwards to his ruin. His house became the scene of disorder
and revelry. His servants neglected their duties when he so far forgot
himself as to make them familiar associates of his orgies. The voice of
prayer was no longer heard in his dwelling: the Bible was cast aside.
Blasphemy had supplanted the one and obscene books had taken the place
of the other. We shall see how rapid was his downfall, and to what a
state of degradation he sunk at last.
But we return for the present to Mr. Hedge and his newly-made wife. They
alighted at the old gentleman's princely mansion in Hudson street and
entered a magnificent apartment in which a bridal supper had been
prepared for them. Julia, as the mistress of the house, was received
with the most profound respect by half a score of domestics, clad in
plain but costly livery. Everything betokened unbounded wealth, and the
repast was served on a scale of splendid luxury--every article of plate
being of massive silver. Viands the most _recherche_ graced the board,
and wines the most rare added zest to the feast. There, sparkling like
the bright waters of the Castalian fountain, flowed the rich Greek
wine--a classic beverage, fit for the gods; there, too, was the delicate
wine of Persia, fragrant with the spices of the East; and the
diamond-crested champagne, inspiring divinities of poesy and Love.
'Drink, my Julia,' cried the happy bridegroom--'one cup to Hymen, and
then let us seek his joys in each other's arms. I have a chamber
prepared for us, which I have dedicated to Venus and to Cupid; there
hath Love spread his wing, and beneath it shall we enjoy extatic repose.
Come, dearest.'
He took her hand, and preceded by a female domestic bearing candles,
conducted her up a broad marble staircase; they entered an apartment
sumptuously furnished--it was the bridal chamber. The footstep fell
noiseless upon the thick and yielding carpet; each chair was a gilded
throne, and each sofa a luxurious divan, cushioned with purple velvet.
Vast paintings, on subjects chiefly mythological, were reflected in
immense mirrors, reaching from floor to ceiling. The bed was curtained
with white satin, spangled with silver stars; and a wilderness of
flowers, in exquisite vases, enriched the atmosphere with their perfume.
The old gentleman kissed his bride, whispered a few words in her ear,
and left the chamber, followed by the domestic. Then Julia was waited
upon by two young ladies, dressed in white, who saluted her
respectfully, and signified their desire to assist her in disrobing.
'We are only servants, madam,' said they, modestly,--'we perform the
duties of housekeepers for Mr. Hedge, and are highly honored if we can
be of service to his lady.'
But the truth is, these young ladies were the illegitimate daughters of
the old gentleman. Tho' Julia was his first wife, in his young days he
had formed an attachment for a poor but lovely young woman;
circumstances would not admit of his marrying her, and as she loved him
in return, they tasted the joys of Venus without lighting the torch of
Hymen. The young woman became _enciente_, and died in giving birth to
twins--both daughters. Mr. Hedge brought these children up under his own
roof, and educated them liberally; yet while he treated them with the
most indulgent kindness, he never acknowledged himself to be their
father, fearing that if the fact became known, it would injure his
reputation as a man and a Christian, he being a zealous church member.
The girls themselves were ignorant of their parentage, and only regarded
Mr. Hedge as their generous benefactor. They had been taught to believe
that they had been abandoned by their parents in their infancy, and that
the old gentleman had taken them under his protection from motives of
charity. They were of a gentle disposition, beloved by all who knew
them, and by none more so than by Mr. Hedge, who maintained them as
ladies although he suffered them to superintend the affairs of his
extensive bachelor establishment. Their names were Emma and Lucy.
While these young ladies are engaged in disrobing the fair (but _not_
blushing) bride, let us seek the newly-elected husband, in the privacy
of his library.
A library--How we love to linger in such a place, amid the thousands of
volumes grown dingy with the accumulated dust of years!--We care not for
one of your modern libraries, with its spruce shelves, filled with the
sickly effusions of romantic triflers--the solemn, philosophical
nonsense of Arthur, the dandified affectation of Willis, and the clever
but wearisome twittle-twattle of Dickens--once great in himself, now
living on the fading reputation of past greatness; we care not to enter
a library made up of such works, all faultlessly done up in the best
style of binder. No--we love to pass long solitary hours in one of those
old depositories of choice literature made venerable by the rich
mellowing of time, and the sombre tapestry of cobwebs which are
undisturbed by the intrusive visitation of prim housemaids. There, amid
antique volumes, caskets of thought more precious than gems, how
delightful to commune with the bright spirit of dead authors, whose
inspired pens have left behind them the glorious scintillations of
immortal genius, which sparkle on every page! When the soft light of
declining day steals gently into the dusky room, and dim shadows hover
in every nook, the truly contemplative mind pores with a quiet rapture
over the sublime creations of Shakespeare, the massive grandeur of
Scott, and the glowing beauties of Byron. Then are the dull realities of
life forgotten, and the soul revels in a new and almost celestial
existence.
In such a place do we now find Mr. Hedge, but he is not feasting on the
delicacies of an elevated literature. Far differently is he engaged: he
is entirely undressed, and reclining at full length in a portable bath,
which is one-third full of _wine_. Such luxurious bathing is often
resorted to by wealthy and superannuated gentlemen, who desire to infuse
into their feeble limbs a degree of youthful activity and strength,
which temporarily enables them to accomplish gallantries under the
banner of Venus, of which they are ordinarily incapable.
'Oh that I were young!' ejaculated the bridegroom, as with a melancholy
air he contemplated his own wasted frame. 'Would that thro' my veins,
as in days of yore, there leaped the fiery current of vigorous youth!
Alas seventy winters have chilled my blood and while my wishes are as
ardent as ever, my physical organization is old, and weak, and
shattered--and I fear me, cannot carry out the warm promptings of my
enamored soul. How gladly would I give all my wealth, for a new lease of
life, that I might revel in the joys of youth again!'
He rang a small bell, and a valet entered, bearing a dish containing a
highly nutritious broth, which he had caused to be prepared on account
of its invigorating properties. After partaking of this rich and savory
mess, and having drank a glass of a certain cordial celebrated for its
renovating influence, he arose, and his valet rubbed him vigorously with
a coarse towel, then slipping on a few garments and a dressing-gown, he
repaired to the bridal chamber with a beating heart.
The two young ladies, having performed their task, had retired, and
Julia was on the couch awaiting her husband's coming. As he entered, she
partly rose from her recumbent posture, with a smile of tender
invitation lighting up her charming face; and rushing forward, he
strained her passionately to his breast.
Then came a torrent of eager kisses, and a thousand whispered words of
tenderness and love--sincere on the part of the old gentleman, but
altogether affected on the part of Julia, who felt not the slightest
degree of amorous inclination towards him. Yet he imagined her to be,
like himself, fired with passion, and full of desire. His eyes feasted
upon the beauties of her glorious form, which, so seductively
voluptuous, was liberally exposed to his gaze; and his trembling hand
wandered amid the treasures of her swelling bosom, so luxuriant in its
ripened fullness.
Soon the withered form of the aged bridegroom is encircled by the plump,
soft arms of his beautiful young bride. There are kisses, and
murmurings, and sighs--but there is a heavy load of disappointment on
the heart of the husband, who curses the three score and ten years that
bind his warm wishes with a chain of ice; and he prays in vain for the
return--even the temporary return--of glad youth, with its vigor, and
its joys.
Julia comprehends all, and secretly congratulates herself on his
imbecility which releases her from embraces that are repugnant to her,
though she assumes an air of tender concern at his distress. Maddened at
a failure so mortifying, Mr. Hedge half regrets his marriage.
Oh, why does weak tottering age seek to unite itself with warm,
impetuous youth! The ice of winter is no congenial mate for the fresh,
early flower of spring. How often do we see old, decrepit men wooing and
wedding young girls, purchased by wealth from mercenary parents! Well
have such sacrifices to Lust and Mammon, been termed _legalized
prostitution_. And does not such a system excuse, if not justify,
infidelity on the part of the wife? An old, drivelling dotard takes to
his home and bed a virgin in her teens, whom he has purchased, but as he
has gone through a formal ceremony, law and the world pronounce her
wife. His miserable physical incapacity provokes without satisfying the
passions of his victim; and in the arms of a lover she secretly enjoys
the solace which she cannot derive from her legal owner. Then, if she is
detected, how the world holds up its ten thousand hands in pious
horror!--Wives who have _young_ husbands are eloquent in their censure;
old women who have long passed the rubicon of love and feeling, denounce
her a _shameless hussey_; while the old reprobate who calls himself her
husband, says to his indignant and sympathizing friends--'I took her
from a low station in life; I raised her to a position of wealth and
rank, and see how ungrateful she is.'
Irritated by the disappointment, he arose, threw on his garments, and
muttering a confused apology, left the chamber, taking with him a light.
As he closed the door behind him, Julia burst into a gay silvery laugh.
'Poor old man!' she said to herself,--'how disconcerted he is!' I could
scarce keep myself from laughing. Well, he is not likely to prove very
troublesome to me as a husband, and I'm glad of it, for really, the
pawings, and kisses, and soft nonsense of such an old man are disgusting
to me. Heigho! when we get to Boston, I must look out for a lover or
two, to atone for the lamentable deficiencies of that withered cypher.'
When Mr. Hedge quitted the chamber, he went directly to his library, and
rang the bell violently. In a few minutes the summons was answered by
his valet. This man was of middle age, and rather good-looking, but
possessed what is generally called a wicked eye.
'Brown,' said his master--'make a fire in this room, and bring up some
wine and refreshments. I shall pass the night here.'
'The devil!' thought Brown, as he sat about obeying these
orders--'master going to pass the night in his library, and just married
to a woman so handsome that one's mouth waters to look at her! They've
either had a quarrel, or else the old man has found himself mistaken in
some of his calculations. I'm a fool if I don't turn things to my
advantage. I see it all; she has cheated old Hedge into marrying her,
although she has a husband already. She did not know me, in this livery;
but she soon shall know me. Why, she's in my power completely, and if
she don't do just as I want her to, d----n me if I don't _blow_ on her,
and spoil all her fun!'
We may as well enter into an explanation at once. This valet, called
Brown, was no other than Davis--Frank Sydney's former butler--who had
been sent to the State Prison for the term of five years, for his
participation in the attempt to rob his master's house. In less than a
month after his removal to Sing Sing, he was pardoned out by the
Governor, who, being a good-natured man, could not refuse to grant the
request of the prisoner's friends. On being set at liberty, Davis
assumed the name of Brown, and entered the service of Mr. Hedge as
valet. He had instantly recognized in the newly-made wife of his master,
his former mistress, Mrs. Sydney;--but she knew him not, as his
appearance was greatly changed. Being a shrewd fellow, he saw through
the whole affair, and understanding her exact position, was resolved to
take advantage of it, as soon as a proper opportunity should present
itself.
The fire was made, the refreshments were brought, and the valet stood as
if awaiting further orders.
'Sit down, Brown,' said his master, 'and take a glass of wine. You know
that I was married to-night to a young lady--you saw her. Ah, she's a
beautiful creature; and yet she might as well be a stick or a stone, for
I am too old and worn-out to enjoy her charms. I did wrong to marry
her; she's an estimable lady, and deserves a husband capable of
affording her the satisfaction which I cannot--Yet I'll do my utmost to
make her happy; I know that she will be faithful to me. Hereafter we
will occupy separate chambers; and as I cannot discharge the duties of a
husband, I will become a father to her. To-morrow we depart for Boston;
and as I still need the services of a valet, you can go with me if you
choose.'
'Thank'ee, sir; I shall be glad to go with you,' said Brown.
'Then that matter is settled,' rejoined Mr. Hedge--'you can leave me
now; I shall not want you again to-night. I will stretch myself upon
this sofa, and try to sleep.'
The valet bade his master good night, and left the library; but instead
of going to his own room, he crept stealthily towards the chamber of
Julia, now Mrs. Hedge. At the door he paused and listened; but hearing
nothing, he softly opened the door, and glided in with noiseless steps,
but with a palpitating heart, for it was a bold step he was taking--he,
a low menial, to venture at midnight into the bed-chamber of his
master's wife! Yet he was a daring fellow, lustful and reckless; and he
fancied that his knowledge of the lady's true history, and her fear of
exposure, would render her willing to yield her person to his wishes.
He approached the bed, and found that she was sleeping. The atmosphere
of the room was warm and heavy with voluptuous perfumes; and the dying
light of the wax candles shed but a dim and uncertain ray upon the
gorgeous furniture, the showy drapery of the bed, and the denuded form
of the fair sleeper; denuded of everything but one slight garment, whose
transparent texture imperfectly concealed charms we dare not describe.
How gently rose and fell that distracting bosom, with its prominent pair
of luscious _twin sisters_, like two polished globes of finest
alabaster! A soft smile parted her rosy lips, disclosing the pearly
teeth; and her clustering hair lay in rich masses upon the pillow. So
angelic was her appearance, and so soft her slumbers that a painter
would have taken her as a model for a picture of Sleeping Innocence.
Yet, within that beautiful exterior, dwelt a soul tarnished with guilty
passion, and void of the exalted purity which so ennobles the exquisite
nature of woman.
Long gazed the bold intruder upon that magnificent woman; and the sight
of her ravishing charms made his breath come fast and thick, and his
blood rushed madly through his veins. Trembling with eager wishes and a
thousand fears, he bent over her and, almost touching his lips to hers,
inhaled the fragrance of her breath, which came soft as a zephyr
stirring the leaves of a rose. Then he laid his hand upon her bosom, and
passed it daringly over the swelling and luxuriant outlines. Julia
partially awoke, and mistaking the disturber of her slumbers for Mr.
Hedge, languidly opened her eyes, and murmured--'Ah, dearest, have you
returned?'
The valet replied by imprinting a hot kiss upon her moist, red lips; but
at that moment the lady saw that it was not her husband who had ravished
the kiss. Starting up in bed she exclaimed, in mingled surprise and
alarm--
'Good heavens, who is this?--Fellow, what do you want, how dare you
enter this chamber?'
'Why, ma'am,' said Brown, doggedly--'I knew that master is old, and no
fit companion for such a lively young woman as you be, and I thought--'
'No more words, sir!' cried Julia, indignantly--'leave this room
instantly--go at once, and I am willing to attribute your insolence to
intoxication--but linger a moment, and I will alarm the house, and give
you up to the anger of your master!'
'Oh, no missus,' said the fellow, coolly--'If _that_ be your game, I can
play one worth two of it. Give the alarm--rouse up the servants--bring
your husband here--and I'll expose you before them all as the wife of
Mr. Sydney, turned out by him, for a nasty scrape with a negro footman!
Missus you don't remember me, but I've lived in your house once, and
know _you_ well enough. I am Davis, the butler, very much at your
service.'
'I recollect you now,' rejoined Julia, scornfully--'You are the
scoundrel who treacherously admitted burglars into the house, and who
was captured and sent to the State Prison, from which you were pardoned,
as I saw stated in the newspapers. You are mistaken if you think that a
dread of exposure will induce me to submit to be outraged by you.
Heavens, I will not yield my person to every ruffian who comes to me
with threats of exposure! Vile menial, I will dare ruin and death sooner
than become the slave of your lust!'
As she uttered these words with a tone and air of indignant scorn, she
looked more superbly beautiful than ever--her dark eyes sparkled, her
cheeks glowed, and her uncovered bosom heaved with excitement and anger.
But Brown was a determined ruffian, and resolved to accomplish his
purpose even if obliged to resort to force. Grasping the lady by both
arms, he said, in a stern whisper--
'Missus, I am stronger than you be--keep quiet, and let me have my way
and you shan't be hurt; but if you go to kicking up a rumpus, why d----n
me if I won't use you rather roughly.'
He forced her back upon the bed, and placed his heavy hand over her
mouth, to prevent her from screaming. Holding her in such a position
that she could not move, he covered her face, neck and breasts with
lecherous kisses; and was preparing to complete the outrage, when the
report of a pistol thundered through the chamber, and the ruffian fell
upon the carpet, weltering in his blood. His body had been perforated by
a ball from a revolver, in the hands of Mr. Hedge.
'Die, you d----d treacherous villain,' cried the old gentleman, swearing
for the first time in his life.
The dying wretch turned his malignant eyes upon Julia, and gasped,
faintly--
'Mr. Hedge--your wife--false--negro--Sydney--'
He could say no more, for the hand of death was upon him; and gnashing
his teeth with rage and despair, he expired.
Mr. Hedge had paid no attention to the ruffian's dying words; for he had
caught Julia in his arms, and was inquiring anxiously if she were hurt.
'No, dearest,' she replied--'only frightened. But how came you to arrive
so opportunely to my rescue?'
'I was endeavoring to get some sleep on the sofa in my library,'
answered the old gentleman--'when suddenly I fancied I heard a noise in
your chamber. Thinking that robbers might have got into the house, I
grasped a pistol, and cautiously approached the door of this room.
Pausing a moment to listen, I heard the villain threaten you with
violence in case you resisted; the door being open a little, I stepped
into the room without making any noise, and saw him preparing to
accomplish the outrage. Then I raised my pistol with unerring aim, and
put a ball through his infernal carcass. Thank heaven, I have reserved
my Julia from a fate worse than death.'
Fortunately for Julia, he had not heard what had passed between her and
the valet, in reference to her exposure. He believed her to be the most
virtuous of her sex; while she was beyond measure rejoiced that Davis,
who might have ruined her, was now dead.
The next day the newly-married pair left New York for the city of
Boston, according to previous arrangement. Arrived in that great
metropolis, they took up their quarters at the most fashionable hotel,
there to remain until Mr. Hedge should purchase a suitable house in
which to take up their permanent residence.
Julia had not neglected to bring her maid Susan with her, as that
discreet abigail might be of service to her in any little matter of
intrigue she might engage in. Nero, the black, she had discharged from
her service.
Her greatest happiness now arose from the belief that she had now
escaped from the persecutions of the Dead Man.