of fraudulent intrusion; and as his antipathy to me had its origin in an
imperfection of mine too radical for removal, I never even hoped to
stand high in his good graces.
My mother was, I dare say, as fond of me as she was of anyone; but she
was a woman of a masculine and a worldly cast of mind. She had no
tenderness or sympathy for the weaknesses, or even for the affections,
of woman's nature, and her demeanour towards me was peremptory, and
often even harsh.
It is not to be supposed, then, that I found in the society of my
parents much to supply the loss of my sister. About a year after her
marriage, we received letters from Mr. Carew, containing accounts of my
sister's health, which, though not actually alarming, were calculated to
make us seriously uneasy. The symptoms most dwelt upon were loss of
appetite, and a cough.
The letters concluded by intimating that he would avail himself of my
father and mother's repeated invitation to spend some time at Ashtown,
particularly as the physician who had been consulted as to my sister's
health had strongly advised a removal to her native air.
There were added repeated assurances that nothing serious was
apprehended, as it was supposed that a deranged state of the liver was
the only source of the symptoms which at first had seemed to intimate
consumption.
In accordance with this announcement, my sister and Mr. Carew arrived in
Dublin, where one of my father's carriages awaited them, in readiness to
start upon whatever day or hour they might choose for their departure.
It was arranged that Mr. Carew was, as soon as the day upon which they
were to leave Dublin was definitely fixed, to write to my father, who
intended that the two last stages should be performed by his own
horses, upon whose speed and safety far more reliance might be placed
than upon those of the ordinary post-horses, which were at that time,
almost without exception, of the very worst order. The journey, one of
about ninety miles, was to be divided; the larger portion being reserved
for the second day.
On Sunday a letter reached us, stating that the party would leave Dublin
on Monday, and in due course reach Ashtown upon Tuesday evening.
Tuesday came: the evening closed in, and yet no carriage; darkness came
on, and still no sign of our expected visitors.
Hour after hour passed away, and it was now past twelve; the night was
remarkably calm, scarce a breath stirring, so that any sound, such as
that produced by the rapid movement of a vehicle, would have been
audible at a considerable distance. For some such sound I was feverishly
listening.
It was, however, my father's rule to close the house at nightfall, and
the window-shutters being fastened, I was unable to reconnoitre the
avenue as I would have wished. It was nearly one o'clock, and we began
almost to despair of seeing them upon that night, when I thought I
distinguished the sound of wheels, but so remote and faint as to make me
at first very uncertain. The noise approached; it became louder and
clearer; it stopped for a moment.
I now heard the shrill screaming of the rusty iron, as the avenue gate
revolved on its hinges; again came the sound of wheels in rapid motion.
"It is they," said I, starting up; "the carriage is in the avenue."
We all stood for a few moments breathlessly listening. On thundered
the vehicle with the speed of the whirlwind; crack went the whip, and
clatter went the wheels, as it rattled over the uneven pavement of the
court. A general and furious barking from all the dogs about the house
hailed its arrival.
We hurried to the hall in time to hear the steps let down with the sharp
clanging noise peculiar to the operation, and the hum of voices exerted
in the bustle of arrival. The hall door was now thrown open, and we all
stepped forth to greet our visitors.
The court was perfectly empty; the moon was shining broadly and brightly
upon all around; nothing was to be seen but the tall trees with their
long spectral shadows, now wet with the dews of midnight.
We stood gazing from right to left as if suddenly awakened from a dream;
the dogs walked suspiciously, growling and snuffling about the court,
and by totally and suddenly ceasing their former loud barking, expressed
the predominance of fear.
We stared one upon another in perplexity and dismay, and I think I never
beheld more pale faces assembled. By my father's directions, we looked
about to find anything which might indicate or account for the noise
which we had heard; but no such thing was to be seen--even the mire
which lay upon the avenue was undisturbed. We returned to the house,
more panic-struck than I can describe.
On the next day, we learned by a messenger, who had ridden hard the
greater part of the night, that my sister was dead. On Sunday evening
she had retired to bed rather unwell, and on Monday her indisposition
declared itself unequivocally to be malignant fever. She became hourly
worse, and, on Tuesday night, a little after midnight, she expired.
I mention this circumstance, because it was one upon which a thousand
wild and fantastical reports were founded, though one would have thought
that the truth scarcely required to be improved upon; and again, because
it produced a strong and lasting effect upon my spirits, and indeed, I
am inclined to think, upon my character.
I was, for several years after this occurrence, long after the violence
of my grief subsided, so wretchedly low-spirited and nervous, that I
could scarcely be said to live; and during this time, habits of
indecision, arising out of a listless acquiescence in the will of
others, a fear of encountering even the slightest opposition, and a
disposition to shrink from what are commonly called amusements, grew
upon me so strongly, that I have scarcely even yet altogether overcome
them.
We saw nothing more of Mr. Carew. He returned to England as soon as the
melancholy rites attendant upon the event which I have just mentioned
were performed; and not being altogether inconsolable, he married again
within two years; after which, owing to the remoteness of our relative
situations, and other circumstances, we gradually lost sight of him.
I was now an only child; and, as my elder sister had died without issue,
it was evident that, in the ordinary course of things, my father's
property, which was altogether in his power, would go to me; and the
consequence was, that before I was fourteen, Ashtown House was besieged
by a host of suitors. However, whether it was that I was too young, or
that none of the aspirants to my hand stood sufficiently high in rank or
wealth, I was suffered by both parents to do exactly as I pleased; and
well was it for me, as I afterwards found, that fortune, or rather
Providence, had so ordained it, that I had not suffered my affections to
become in any degree engaged, for my mother would never have suffered
any silly fancy of mine, as she was in the habit of styling an
attachment, to stand in the way of her ambitious views--views which she
was determined to carry into effect in defiance of every obstacle, and
in order to accomplish which she would not have hesitated to sacrifice
anything so unreasonable and contemptible as a girlish passion.
When I reached the age of sixteen, my mother's plans began to develop
themselves; and, at her suggestion, we moved to Dublin to sojourn for
the winter, in order that no time might be lost in disposing of me to
the best advantage.
I had been too long accustomed to consider myself as of no importance
whatever, to believe for a moment that I was in reality the cause of all
the bustle and preparation which surrounded me; and being thus relieved
from the pain which a consciousness of my real situation would have
inflicted, I journeyed towards the capital with a feeling of total
indifference.
My father's wealth and connection had established him in the best
society, and consequently, upon our arrival in the metropolis, we
commanded whatever enjoyment or advantages its gaieties afforded.
The tumult and novelty of the scenes in which I was involved did not
fail considerably to amuse me, and my mind gradually recovered its tone,
which was naturally cheerful.
It was almost immediately known and reported that I was an heiress, and
of course my attractions were pretty generally acknowledged.
Among the many gentlemen whom it was my fortune to please, one, ere
long, established himself in my mother's good graces, to the exclusion
of all less important aspirants. However, I had not understood or even
remarked his attentions, nor in the slightest degree suspected his or my
mother's plans respecting me, when I was made aware of them rather
abruptly by my mother herself.
We had attended a splendid ball, given by Lord M----, at his residence
in Stephen's Green, and I was, with the assistance of my waiting-maid,
employed in rapidly divesting myself of the rich ornaments which, in
profuseness and value, could scarcely have found their equals in any
private family in Ireland.
I had thrown myself into a lounging-chair beside the fire, listless and
exhausted after the fatigues of the evening, when I was aroused from the
reverie into which I had fallen by the sound of footsteps approaching my
chamber, and my mother entered.
"Fanny, my dear," said she, in her softest tone, "I wish to say a word
or two with you before I go to rest. You are not fatigued, love, I
hope?"
"No, no, madam, I thank you," said I, rising at the same time from my
seat, with the formal respect so little practised now.
"Sit down, my dear," said she, placing herself upon a chair beside me;
"I must chat with you for a quarter of an hour or so. Saunders" (to the
maid), "you may leave the room; do not close the room door, but shut
that of the lobby."
This precaution against curious ears having been taken as directed, my
mother proceeded:
"You have observed, I should suppose, my dearest Fanny--indeed, you
_must_ have observed Lord Glenfallen's marked attentions to you?"
"I assure you, madam--" I began.
"Well, well, that is all right," interrupted my mother. "Of course, you
must be modest upon the matter; but listen to me for a few moments, my
love, and I will prove to your satisfaction that your modesty is quite
unnecessary in this case. You have done better than we could have hoped,
at least, so very soon. Lord Glenfallen is in love with you. I give you
joy of your conquest;" and, saying this, my mother kissed my forehead.
"In love with me!" I exclaimed in unfeigned astonishment.
"Yes, in love with you," repeated my mother; "devotedly, distractedly in
love with you. Why, my dear, what is there wonderful in it? Look in the
glass, and look at these," she continued, pointing, with a smile, to the
jewels which I had just removed from my person, and which now lay in a
glittering heap upon the table.
"May there not--" said I, hesitating between confusion and real alarm,
"is it not possible that some mistake may be at the bottom of all
this?"
"Mistake, dearest! none," said my mother. "None; none in the world.
Judge for yourself; read this, my love." And she placed in my hand a
letter, addressed to herself, the seal of which was broken. I read it
through with no small surprise. After some very fine complimentary
flourishes upon my beauty and perfections, as also upon the antiquity
and high reputation of our family, it went on to make a formal proposal
of marriage, to be communicated or not to me at present, as my mother
should deem expedient; and the letter wound up by a request that the
writer might be permitted, upon our return to Ashtown House, which was
soon to take place, as the spring was now tolerably advanced, to visit
us for a few days, in case his suit was approved.
"Well, well, my dear," said my mother, impatiently; "do you know who
Lord Glenfallen is?"
"I do, madam," said I, rather timidly; for I dreaded an altercation with
my mother.
"Well, dear, and what frightens you?" continued she. "Are you afraid of
a title? What has he done to alarm you? He is neither old nor ugly."
I was silent, though I might have said, "He is neither young nor
handsome."
"My dear Fanny," continued my mother, "in sober seriousness, you have
been most fortunate in engaging the affections of a nobleman such as
Lord Glenfallen, young and wealthy, with first-rate--yes, acknowledged
_first-rate_ abilities, and of a family whose influence is not exceeded
by that of any in Ireland. Of course, you see the offer in the same
light that I do--indeed, I think you _must_."
This was uttered in no very dubious tone. I was so much astonished by
the suddenness of the whole communication, that I literally did not know
what to say.
"You are not in love?" said my mother, turning sharply, and fixing her
dark eyes upon me with severe scrutiny.
"No, madam," said I, promptly; horrified--what young lady would not have
been?--at such a query.
"I'm glad to hear it," said my mother, drily. "Once, nearly twenty years
ago, a friend of mine consulted me as to how he should deal with a
daughter who had made what they call a love-match--beggared herself, and
disgraced her family; and I said, without hesitation, take no care for
her, but cast her off. Such punishment I awarded for an offence
committed against the reputation of a family not my own; and what I
advised respecting the child of another, with full as small compunction
I would _do_ with mine. I cannot conceive anything more unreasonable or
intolerable than that the fortune and the character of a family should
be marred by the idle caprices of a girl."
She spoke this with great severity, and paused as if she expected some
observation from me.
I, however, said nothing.
"But I need not explain to you, my dear Fanny," she continued, "my views
upon this subject; you have always known them well, and I have never yet
had reason to believe you are likely to offend me voluntarily, or to
abuse or neglect any of those advantages which reason and duty tell you
should be improved. Come hither, my dear; kiss me, and do not look so
frightened. Well, now, about this letter--you need not answer it yet; of
course, you must be allowed time to make up your mind. In the meantime,
I will write to his lordship to give him my permission to visit us at
Ashtown. Good-night, my love."
And thus ended one of the most disagreeable, not to say astounding,
conversations I had ever had. It would not be easy to describe exactly
what were my feelings towards Lord Glenfallen;--whatever might have been
my mother's suspicions, my heart was perfectly disengaged--and hitherto,
although I had not been made in the slightest degree acquainted with his
real views, I had liked him very much as an agreeable, well-informed
man, whom I was always glad to meet in society. He had served in the
navy in early life, and the polish which his manners received in his
after intercourse with courts and cities had not served to obliterate
that frankness of manner which belongs proverbially to the sailor.
Whether this apparent candour went deeper than the outward bearing, I
was yet to learn. However, there was no doubt that, as far as I had seen
of Lord Glenfallen, he was, though perhaps not so young as might have
been desired in a lover, a singularly pleasing man; and whatever feeling
unfavourable to him had found its way into my mind, arose altogether
from the dread, not an unreasonable one, that constraint might be
practised upon my inclinations. I reflected, however, that Lord
Glenfallen was a wealthy man, and one highly thought of; and although I
could never expect to love him in the romantic sense of the term, yet I
had no doubt but that, all things considered, I might be more happy with
him than I could hope to be at home.
When next I met him it was with no small embarrassment; his tact and
good breeding, however, soon reassured me, and effectually prevented
my awkwardness being remarked upon. And I had the satisfaction of
leaving Dublin for the country with the full conviction that nobody,
not even those most intimate with me, even suspected the fact of Lord
Glenfallen's having made me a formal proposal.
This was to me a very serious subject of self-gratulation, for, besides
my instinctive dread of becoming the topic of the speculations of
gossip, I felt that if the situation which I occupied in relation to
him were made publicly known, I should stand committed in a manner which
would scarcely leave me the power of retraction.
The period at which Lord Glenfallen had arranged to visit Ashtown House
was now fast approaching, and it became my mother's wish to form me
thoroughly to her will, and to obtain my consent to the proposed
marriage before his arrival, so that all things might proceed smoothly,
without apparent opposition or objection upon my part. Whatever
objections, therefore, I had entertained were to be subdued; whatever
disposition to resistance I had exhibited or had been supposed to feel,
were to be completely eradicated before he made his appearance; and my
mother addressed herself to the task with a decision and energy against
which even the barriers her imagination had created could hardly have
stood.
If she had, however, expected any determined opposition from me, she was
agreeably disappointed. My heart was perfectly free, and all my feelings
of liking and preference were in favour of Lord Glenfallen; and I well
knew that in case I refused to dispose of myself as I was desired, my
mother had alike the power and the will to render my existence as
utterly miserable as even the most ill-assorted marriage could possibly
have made it.
You will remember, my good friend, that I was very young and very
completely under the control of my parents, both of whom, my mother
particularly, were unscrupulously determined in matters of this kind,
and willing, when voluntary obedience on the part of those within their
power was withheld, to compel a forced acquiescence by an unsparing use
of all the engines of the most stern and rigorous domestic discipline.
All these combined, not unnaturally induced me to resolve upon yielding
at once, and without useless opposition, to what appeared almost to be
my fate.
The appointed time was come, and my now accepted suitor arrived; he was
in high spirits, and, if possible, more entertaining than ever.
I was not, however, quite in the mood to enjoy his sprightliness; but
whatever I wanted in gaiety was amply made up in the triumphant and
gracious good-humour of my mother, whose smiles of benevolence and
exultation were showered around as bountifully as the summer sunshine.
I will not weary you with unnecessary details. Let it suffice to say,
that I was married to Lord Glenfallen with all the attendant pomp and
circumstance of wealth, rank, and grandeur. According to the usage of
the times, now humanely reformed, the ceremony was made, until long past
midnight, the season of wild, uproarious, and promiscuous feasting and
revelry.
Of all this I have a painfully vivid recollection, and particularly of
the little annoyances inflicted upon me by the dull and coarse jokes of
the wits and wags who abound in all such places, and upon all such
occasions.
I was not sorry when, after a few days, Lord Glenfallen's carriage
appeared at the door to convey us both from Ashtown; for any change
would have been a relief from the irksomeness of ceremonial and
formality which the visits received in honour of my newly-acquired
titles hourly entailed upon me.
[Illustration: THE SEASON OF WILD, UPROARIOUS, AND PROMISCUOUS FEASTING
AND REVELRY.]
It was arranged that we were to proceed to Cahergillagh, one of the
Glenfallen estates, lying, however, in a southern county; so that, owing
to the difficulty of the roads at the time, a tedious journey of three
days intervened.
I set forth with my noble companion, followed by the regrets of some,
and by the envy of many; though God knows I little deserved the latter.
The three days of travel were now almost spent, when passing the brow of
a wild heathy hill, the domain of Cahergillagh opened suddenly upon our
view.
It formed a striking and a beautiful scene. A lake of considerable
extent stretching away towards the west, and reflecting from its broad,
smooth waters the rich glow of the setting sun, was overhung by steep
hills, covered by a rich mantle of velvet sward, broken here and there
by the grey front of some old rock, and exhibiting on their shelving
sides and on their slopes and hollows every variety of light and shade.
A thick wood of dwarf oak, birch, and hazel skirted these hills, and
clothed the shores of the lake, running out in rich luxuriance upon
every promontory, and spreading upward considerably upon the side of the
hills.
"There lies the enchanted castle," said Lord Glenfallen, pointing
towards a considerable level space intervening between two of the
picturesque hills which rose dimly around the lake.
This little plain was chiefly occupied by the same low, wild wood which
covered the other parts of the domain; but towards the centre, a mass of
taller and statelier forest trees stood darkly grouped together, and
among them stood an ancient square tower, with many buildings of a
humbler character, forming together the manor-house, or, as it was more
usually called, the Court of Cahergillagh.
As we approached the level upon which the mansion stood, the winding
road gave us many glimpses of the time-worn castle and its surrounding
buildings; and seen as it was through the long vistas of the fine old
trees, and with the rich glow of evening upon it, I have seldom beheld
an object more picturesquely striking.
I was glad to perceive, too, that here and there the blue curling smoke
ascended from stacks of chimneys now hidden by the rich, dark ivy which,
in a great measure, covered the building. Other indications of comfort
made themselves manifest as we approached; and indeed, though the place
was evidently one of considerable antiquity, it had nothing whatever of
the gloom of decay about it.
"You must not, my love," said Lord Glenfallen, "imagine this place
worse than it is. I have no taste for antiquity--at least I should
not choose a house to reside in because it is old. Indeed, I do not
recollect that I was even so romantic as to overcome my aversion to
rats and rheumatism, those faithful attendants upon your noble relics
of feudalism; and I much prefer a snug, modern, unmysterious bedroom,
with well-aired sheets, to the waving tapestry, mildewed cushions, and
all the other interesting appliances of romance. However, though I
cannot promise you all the discomfort generally belonging to an old
castle, you will find legends and ghostly lore enough to claim your
respect; and if old Martha be still to the fore, as I trust she is,
you will soon have a supernatural and appropriate anecdote for every
closet and corner of the mansion. But here we are--so, without more
ado, welcome to Cahergillagh!"
We now entered the hall of the castle, and while the domestics were
employed in conveying our trunks and other luggage which we had
brought with us for immediate use, to the apartments which Lord
Glenfallen had selected for himself and me, I went with him into a
spacious sitting-room, wainscoted with finely-polished black oak, and
hung round with the portraits of various worthies of the Glenfallen
family.
This room looked out upon an extensive level covered with the softest
green sward, and irregularly bounded by the wild wood I have before
mentioned, through the leafy arcade formed by whose boughs and trunks
the level beams of the setting sun were pouring. In the distance a group
of dairy-maids were plying their task, which they accompanied throughout
with snatches of Irish songs which, mellowed by the distance, floated
not unpleasingly to the ear; and beside them sat or lay, with all the
grave importance of conscious protection, six or seven large dogs of
various kinds. Farther in the distance, and through the cloisters of the
arching wood, two or three ragged urchins were employed in driving such
stray kine as had wandered farther than the rest to join their fellows.
As I looked upon the scene which I have described, a feeling of
tranquillity and happiness came upon me, which I have never experienced
in so strong a degree; and so strange to me was the sensation that my
eyes filled with tears.