POLITICAL LIFE.
While Lady Rosamond received the homage of a thousand hearts and plunged
into the ceaseless round of busy life, her husband was engaged as a
fierce combatant in earnest conflicts in the political arena within the
limits of Parliament. Enclosed by vast and wondrous piles of stately
architecture, the champions fight for their respective boroughs with
untiring energy and vehement fiery ardour. The ministry, headed by the
Duke of Wellington, stood much in need of all the force which it could
bring to bear upon the rallying strength of the opposing element. Among
the latter was arrayed Mr. Bereford. His penetrating judgment and shrewd
activity were considered an important acquisition to the ranks of his
colleagues. His masterly and eloquent harangues never failed to force
deep conviction and prove the justice of his principles. Even Lady
Rosamond felt a secret pride in listening to those earnest appeals which
disclosed the honest motives by which they were actuated. Though not
gifted with the brilliant powers displayed in the conversational genius
of those women who had evidently devoted much attention to the study of
politics, her ladyship tried to feel an interest in the measures for
which her husband had devoted many of his waking hours, his superior
intellectual powers, his fond ambition. In this source she seemed to
find a sense of relief. She never flinched when any exaction was
required. If she could make some recompense for such pure and fervent
love, no matter at what cost or sacrifice, gladly would the
conscientious principles of Lady Rosamond accept the terms. Her marked
concern and unremitting attention failed not to elicit admiration from
the Premier, who, despite his stern, disciplined nature, had not
forgotten to pay tribute to the attractions of a beautiful woman. The
Iron Duke indeed showed a decided preference for her ladyship. He was
charmed with the sweet, unassuming, and childlike manner of the young
matron, and took delight in contrasting these with the glaring and
ostentatious demeanor of these high-minded and profound women with whom
he daily mingled.
Lady Rosamond repaid the gallant Duke for such attention. She loved to
engage him in earnest and animated conversation, and watch the fire that
kindled the soul within by the light emitted from the deep flashing eye.
She felt a deep interest in the stern old warrior from the endearing
associations which his memory had woven around her. While in Fredericton
her ladyship had heard many stories in which her friends had also
figured in close relation to the hero of a hundred fights. Sir Howard
Douglas had oftentimes entertained his family circle with a recital of
such scenes. The friend of Sir Howard, Colonel Trevelyan, was also an
actor in the great drama. But the last personage could not possibly
cause any tender interest to the mind of Lady Rosamond.
Gerald Bereford was opposed in principle to the present administration.
He formed one of the strongest leaders of the opposition. His heart was
in the work before him; he would not flinch from the responsibility. His
haggard countenance often gave evidence of the spirit which influenced
his actions; yet he wearied not. A mild reproof from his lovely wife
would for the while have some effect, when he would devote all his
leisure to her comfort and pastime, being fully repaid by the most
simple caress or quiet smile.
Early in the next year an event followed which had a great effect both
on political and social life. His Majesty, George the Fourth, had passed
away from earth. Among those within our acquaintance few there were who
deeply regretted the circumstance.
Lady Rosamond, in writing a friend, said: "We cannot indeed entertain
any lasting regrets for one who inflicted such misery upon one of our
sex. The unfortunate queen and her tragical end inspires me with a
feeling bordering upon hate towards the author. As women we must feel
it, but as women we must forgive."
Thus was the matter viewed by her ladyship, who now looked forward with
happy anticipation to the approaching and brilliant pageantry. The
"Sailor King" sat peacefully on the throne of England. In the days of
her childhood Lady Rosamond loved to climb upon the knee of a handsome
nobleman--in truth a gallant prince. Lovingly did she nestle against his
manly breast with eager, childish confidence, throwing her beautiful
silken ringlets over his shoulders in gleeful pride. Many times had she
kissed the lips of her royal patron, while he playfully designated her
his "White Rose of England." Among the many beautiful trinkets she had
received at his hands none were more valuable or precious than the
jewelled locket bearing the simple inscription "William," appended to a
miniature chain, which she had always worn around her neck in grateful
remembrance. The kind-hearted prince had won the lovely child. Kind
memories can never be obliterated from kind hearts.
Lady Rosamond in after years never forgot the sailor prince of her
childhood days. The old admiral was proud of the attachment thus formed
in his early career. He had entertained towards the generous prince a
warm regard. In naval cruises they were often thrown in company, while
on more than one occasion Sir Thomas had granted leave to obtain the
service of his young friend for a lengthened cruise.
It is not, therefore, a matter of surprise that Lady Rosamond hailed
with rapturous delight the accession of the sailor prince as William the
Fourth of England. Her hopes beat high as she thought of the approaching
ceremony when she would once more be recognized by her old friend. Has
she outgrown his memory? or has he kept her still in view through each
successive stage of life? Many were the speculations formed within the
mind of her ladyship as she made the elaborate preparation necessary for
the intended reception. The day at length arrived. The king and queen
were to receive the nobility of the realm. Dukes, earls, viscounts,
marquises, baronets, with all the titled members of their families, were
to pass in array before the conscious glance and smile of majesty.
The royal reception chamber blazed with dazzling splendour. Titled
courtiers in costly dresses of crimson, purple, and violet velvet,
embroidered in gold, glittering with the many orders upon their breasts,
while the jewelled hilt of the golden scabbards flashed in dazzling rays
of light. These lined the apartment or moved to and fro at the summon of
royalty. Ladies of honor were grouped at respective distances from their
sovereign mistress ready to obey her slightest behest. Their costly
robes, courtly grace, and distinguished appearance, befitted the noble
blood which ran through their veins as proof of their present proud
position. To a stranger the scene was impressive. On first entering the
train of attendants and military display is sufficient to quell the most
stout hearted. Passing along with as much dignity as the person can, he
is announced in loud stentorian tones by the lord chamberlain, who
glances at the card thus presented. Then advancing towards the throne,
kneeling down, kissing the back of His Majesty's hand, and passing along
in the train of his predecessor forms the remaining part of the
ceremony. During this time hundreds will have taken part in these
proceedings, happy in the thought of having received a respectful bow
from the grateful monarch in return for the deep and almost overpowering
embarrassment that possesses the one taking part in those imposing
ceremonies.
The rising blush on Lady Rosamond's cheek showed the excitement that
stirred the depths of her inward feelings. She was carried back to the
happy child days when no shade hovered near; when no bitter concealment
lurked in the recesses of her joyous heart; when her fond plans were
openly discussed before the sailor prince with intense merriment and
glee. Vainly she sighed as she thought of what might have been. Though in
the present the inference was distasteful, her ladyship could not dismiss
the subject. As she stands quietly awaiting her turn in the order of
presentation, let us once more picture the beautiful face and form which
have won our entire sympathy.
Lady Rosamond has lost none of the beauty hitherto depicted in her
charms. She is still lovely as when described while a guest at
Government House. Her cheek has lost none of its roundness; the outline
is full, striking, fresh and interesting; the expressive dark eyes have
lost not their usual brilliancy, save a mournful tenderness that is more
often betrayed than formerly; the lustrous black hair is wantonly
revelling in all the luxuriance of its former beauty. Time nor
experience has not the ruthless power to desecrate such sacred charms.
Lady Rosamond has yet to rejoice in these; she has yet to pluck the
blossoms of happiness springing up from the soil of buried hope where
seeds had been scattered by the unseen hand of Mercy. Well might Gerald
Bereford have been fond of his wife as she approached the "Sailor King,"
in her train of white satin and velvet sparkling with diamonds, with a
grace bespeaking ease, trust and dignified repose. The announcement of
Lady Rosamond Bereford afforded striking proof of the warm-heartedness
of his majesty, showing he did not forget his former white rose of
England. His eagle eye detected the small jewelled gift almost concealed
within the breast of her ladyship, as she lowly bent down to kiss the
hand of her sovereign. A beautiful blush overspread the features of Lady
Rosamond as she felt the directed gaze. "Your ladyship has not forgotten
the sharer of her childhood joys," exclaimed His Majesty with expressive
smile.
A deep blush succeeded when the kneeling suppliant recovered sufficient
self-possession to reply. "Your Majesty will pardon this occasion to
acknowledge the great honor conferred by this tender allusion to a loving
and loyal subject."
In her blushing loveliness, Lady Rosamond received a fragrant and
beautiful white rose from the hand of her liege sovereign as expressive
of the desired continuation of his former regard and endearment. This
was truly a remarkable moment in the life of her ladyship. She felt the
true force and depth of friendship. If the favor of her monarch could
give happiness, would she not exercise a large monopoly? Yet there was
happiness enjoined in the ceremony. His Majesty was happy to meet his
former friend and companion. Her Majesty the Queen was happy to find one
in whom her husband found so much to admire. Gerald Bereford was truly
happy in having such royal favour extended towards the lovely being upon
whom he lavished his fond love.
These circumstances gave some relief to lady Rosamond and taught her
many lessons through suffering to which she could return with thankful
gratitude for the bitter trials so heavily imposed. Sometimes a feeling
of remorse took possession of her ladyship as she looked upon the face
of her husband and fancied that there rested a yearning, wistful look, a
lingering for her truer sympathy. She sometimes felt that her husband
also cherished his vain regrets, his moments of bitter conflicts when he
tried to smother the unbidden thoughts that would thus arise. These
fancies often roused Lady Rosamond to a sense of her duty with wholesome
effect.
This mark of royal favor was not lost upon Lady Rosamond. Her Majesty
expressed a wish to receive the king's favorite among the ladies of her
household. But the tearful eyes of the beautiful matron forbade any
further mention. The German propensities of Queen Adelaide would not
force any measure thus proposed. Lady Rosamond had full access to the
royal household, receiving the confidence of her royal patroness with
true grace.
Now began the struggle for Reform in the Parliament. Throughout the
kingdom arose the cry of Reform which had been echoed from the second
French revolution. Among all classes arose the war note of Reform. It
sounded loud and high. It was borne over the continent. Nothing but
Reform. Reform of the House of Commons was the subject discussed at
every fireside.
Affairs had now reached a political crisis. The Duke of Wellington, with
his unrestrained and high-bred principles of conservatism, could not
brook such an innovation upon the time-honored laws and customs of the
British constitution. He could not favor a faction that would
countenance the spoliation of England's hitherto undimmed greatness and
national pride. Hence arose a new ministry under the united leadership
of Earl Grey and Lord John Russell. In Gerald Bereford the supporters of
the Reform measure found a zealous adherent. He seemed to lay aside
every other consideration in advancing the scheme which lay so near his
heart. Lengthy and private consultations were held between the latter
and his sincere friend and adviser, Earl Grey. Days and nights were
passed in fierce and endless controversy in the House of Commons.
This was the only point in which Lady Rosamond failed to convince her
husband of the injury sustained by such constant turmoil and anxiety
involved in these measures. When she quietly endeavored to reason upon
such a course of conduct he smilingly replied: "My darling, duty calls
me and you would not see me inactive when the demand is so imperative?
Surely my beautiful rose would not like to have the breath of slander
attached to her husband as guilty of cowardice or desertion from the
ranks of his party? Ah, no, my darling," cried the earnest politician,
preventing his wife's retort with the tender kisses of a true and ardent
love. It did indeed seem strange that the more earnestly Lady Rosamond
pleaded with her husband the more firmly did he resist, and, if
possible, the more ardent he became in his attention. Lady Rosamond felt
a strange and unaccountable desire to interfere with the plans laid down
by Gerald Bereford. Many times she urged upon Earl Grey the necessity of
moderation, and, with a vehemence foreign to her nature, strove to
impress him with prophetic visions of anxiety, doubt, and fear. Her
ladyship was somewhat reconciled by the resignation of the Premier, who,
in his joking manner, attributed his want of success to the hostile
attitude of the wife of his friend, Gerald Bereford.
But the conflict was kept up with renewed energy. The Reform party were
not to be thus easily outwitted. They were still sanguine. During the
period when the ministry vacillated between the Conservatives and Whigs,
the spirits of the latter never drooped. Victory was the watchword that
attached itself to the Reform party. Victory was the cry of Gerald
Bereford as he labored day and night with untiring zeal, utterly
regardless of the ravages thus made upon his hitherto robust
constitution. In this exciting struggle the young politician was
unconscious of the deadly and venomous growth taking root within
under the baneful effect of negligence and over-taxed powers.