[Illustration: "But, gracious Heavens! Who can describe the emotions of
her soul, when the original of the picture so fondly sketched, so
hastily obliterated, met her eye."
Page 532.]
THE
CHILDREN OF THE ABBEY.
A TALE.
BY
REGINA MARIA ROCHE.
A matchless pair;
With equal virtue formed, and equal grace,
The same, distinguished by their sex alone:
Hers the mild lustre of the blooming morn,
And his the radiance of the risen day.--THOMSON.
NEW YORK:
ALBERT COGSWELL, PUBLISHER,
NO. 24 BOND STREET.
1880
THE
CHILDREN OF THE ABBEY.
CHAPTER I.
"Yellow sheafs from rich Ceres the cottage had crowned,
Green rustles were strewed on the floor;
The casements sweet woodbine crept wantonly round,
And decked the sod seats at the door."--CUNNINGHAM.
Hail, sweet asylum of my infancy! Content and innocence reside beneath
your humble roof, and charity unboastful of the good it renders. Hail,
ye venerable trees! my happiest hours of childish gayety were passed
beneath your shelter--then, careless as the birds that sung upon your
boughs, I laughed the hours away, nor knew of evil.
Here surely I shall be guarded from duplicity; and if not happy, at
least in some degree tranquil. Here unmolested may I wait, till the rude
storm of sorrow is overblown, and my father's arms are again expanded to
receive me.
Such were the words of Amanda, as the chaise (which she had hired at a
neighboring village on quitting the mail) turned down a little verdant
lane, almost darkened by old trees, whose interwoven branches allowed
her scarcely a glimpse of her nurse's cottage, till she had reached the
door.
A number of tender recollections rushing upon her mind, rendered her
almost unable to alight; but the nurse and her husband, who had been
impatiently watching for the arrival of their fondling, assisted her,
and the former, obeying the dictates of nature and affection, half
stifled her with caresses; the latter respectfully kissed her hand, and
dropped a tear of unutterable joy upon it. Lort, he said, he was
surprised, to be sure, at the alteration a few years had made in her
person--why, it seemed to him as if it was only the other day since he
had carried her about in his arms, quite a little fairy. Then he begged
to know how his tear old captain was, and Mr. Oscar--and whether the
latter was not grown a very fine youth. Amanda, smiling through her
tears, endeavored to answer his inquiries; but she was so much affected
by her feelings, as to be scarcely able to speak; and when, by her
desire, he went out to discharge the chaise, and assist the young man
(who had travelled with her from London) to bring in her luggage, her
head sunk upon her nurse's bosom, whose arms encircled her waist. "My
dear faithful nurse," she sobbed, "your poor child is again returned to
seek an asylum from you." "And she is heartily welcome," replied the
good creature, crying herself, "and I have taken care to have everything
so nice, and so tidy, and so comfortable, that I warrant you the
greatest laty in the land need not disdain your apartments; and here are
two little girls, as well as myself, that will always be ready to
attend, serve and obey you. This is Ellen, your own foster-sister; and
this is Betsey, the little thing I had in the cradle when you went
away--and I have besides, though I say it myself that should not say it,
two as fine lads as you could wish to see; they are now at work at a
farmer's hard by; but they will be here presently. Thank Cot, we are all
happy, though obliged to earn our own bread; but 'tis sweeter for that
reason, since labor gives us health to enjoy it, and contentment blesses
us all." Amanda affectionately embraced the two girls, who were the
pictures of health and cheerfulness, and was then conducted into a
little parlor, which, with a small bedchamber adjoining it, was
appropriated to her use. The neatness of the room was truly pleasing;
the floor was nicely sanded; the hearth was dressed with "flowers and
fennel gay;" and the chimney-piece adorned with a range of broken
teacups, "wisely kept for show;" a clock ticked behind the door; and an
ebony cupboard displayed a profusion of the showiest ware the country
could produce. And now the nurse, on "hospitable thought intent,"
hurried from Amanda to prepare her dinner. The chicken, as she said
herself, was ready to pop down in a minute; Ellen tied the asparagus;
and Betsey laid the cloth; Edwin drew his best cider, and, having
brought it in himself, retired to entertain his guest in the kitchen
(Amanda's travelling companion), before whom he had already set some of
his most substantial fare.
Dinner, in the opinion of Amanda, was served in a moment; but her heart
was too full to eat, though pressed to do so with the utmost
tenderness, a tenderness which, in truth, was the means of overcoming
her.
When insulted by malice, or oppressed by cruelty, the heart can assume a
stern fortitude foreign to its nature; but this seeming apathy vanishes
at the voice of kindness, as the rigid frost of winter melts before the
gentle influence of the sun, and tears, gushing tears of gratitude and
sensibility, express its yielding feelings. Sacred are such tears; they
flow from the sweet source of social affection: the good alone can shed
them.
Her nurse's sons soon returned from their labor; two fine nut-brown
youths. They had been the companions of her infant sports, and she spoke
to them with the most engaging affability.
Domestic bliss and rural felicity Amanda had always been accustomed to,
till within a short period; her attachment to them was still as strong
as ever, and had her father been with her, she would have been happy.
It was now about the middle of June, and the whole country was glowing
with luxuriant beauty. The cottage was in reality a comfortable,
commodious farm-house; it was situated in North Wales, and the romantic
scenery surrounding it was highly pleasing to a disposition like
Amanda's, which delighted equally in the sublime and beautiful. The
front of the cottage was almost covered with woodbine, intermingled with
vines; and the lane already mentioned formed a shady avenue up to the
very door; one side overlooked a deep valley, winding amongst hills clad
in the liveliest verdure; a clear stream running through it turned a
mill in its course, and afforded a salutary coolness to the herds which
ruminated on its banks; the other side commanded a view of rich
pastures, terminated by a thick grove, whose natural vistas gave a view
of cultivated farms, a small irregular village, the spire of its church,
and a fine old castle, whose stately turrets rose above the trees
surrounding them.
The farm-yard, at the back of the cottage, was stocked with poultry and
all the implements of rural industry; the garden was divided from it by
a rude paling, interwoven with honeysuckles and wild roses; the part
appropriated for vegetables divided from the part sacred to Flora by
rows of fruit-trees; a craggy precipice hung over it, covered with
purple and yellow flowers, thyme, and other odoriferous herbs, which
afforded browsage to three or four goats that skipped about in playful
gambols; a silver stream trickled down the precipice, and winding round
a plantation of shrubs, fell with a gentle murmur into the valley.
Beneath a projecting fragment of the rock a natural recess was formed,
thickly lined with moss, and planted round with a succession of
beautiful flowers.
"Here, scattered wild, the lily of the vale
Its balmy essence breathes; here cowslips hang
The dewy head, and purple violets lurk--
With all the lowly children of the shade."--THOMSON.
Of those scenes Amanda had but an imperfect recollection; such a faint
idea as we retain of a confused but agreeable dream, which, though we
cannot explain, leaves a pleasing impression behind.
Peculiar circumstances had driven her from the shelter of a parent's
arms, to seek security in retirement at this abode of simplicity and
peace. Here the perturbation of fear subsided; but the soft melancholy
of her soul at times was heightened, when she reflected, that in this
very place an unfortunate mother had expired almost at the moment of
giving her birth.
Amanda was now about nineteen; a description of her face and person
would not do her justice, as it never could convey a full idea of the
ineffable sweetness and sensibility of the former, or the striking
elegance and beautiful proportion of the latter.
Sorrow had faded her vivid bloom; for the distresses of her father
weighed heavy on her heart, and the blossom drooped with the tree which
supported it. Her agonized parent witnessing this sudden change, sent
her into Wales, as much for health as for security; she was ordered
goat's whey and gentle exercise; but she firmly believed that
consolation on her father's account could alone effect a cure.
Though the rose upon her cheek was pale, and the lustre of her eyes was
fled, she was from those circumstances (if less dazzling to the eye)
more affecting to the heart. Cold and unfeeling indeed must that one
have been, which could see her unmoved; for hers was that interesting
face and figure which had power to fix the wandering eye and change the
gaze of admiration into the throb of sensibility: nor was her mind
inferior to the form that enshrined it.
She now exerted her spirits in gratitude to her humble but benevolent
friends. Her arrival had occasioned a little festival at the cottage:
the tea things, which were kept more for show than use in the ebony
cupboard, were now taken out and carried by her desire to the recess in
the garden; whither Mrs. Edwin followed the family with a hot cake,
Amanda thought large enough to serve half the principality.
The scene was delightful, and well calculated to banish all sadness but
despair; Amanda was therefore cheered; for she was too much the child of
piety ever to have felt its baneful influence. In the midst of her
troubles she still looked up with confidence to that Power who has
promised never to forsake the righteous.
The harmless jest, the jocund laugh went round, and Amanda enjoyed the
innocent gayety; for a benevolent mind will ever derive pleasure from
the happiness of others. The declining sun now gave softer beauties to
the extensive scenery; the lowing of the cattle was faintly echoed by
the neighboring hills; the cheerful carol of the peasant floated on the
evening gale, that stole perfumes from the beds of flowers and wafted
them around; the busy bees had now completed the delicious labor of the
day, and with incessant hummings sought their various hives, while--
"Every copse
Deep-tangled, tree irregular, and bush
Were prodigal of harmony."--THOMSON.
To complete the concert, a blind harper, who supported himself by summer
rambles through the country, strolled into the garden; and after a
plentiful repast of bread and cheese, and nut-brown ale, began playing.
The venerable appearance of the musician, the simple melody of his harp,
recalled to Amanda's recollection the tales of other times, in which she
had so often delighted: it sent her soul back to the ages of old, to the
days of other years, when bards rehearsed the exploits of heroes, and
sung the praises of the dead. "While the ghosts of those they sung, came
in their rustling winds, and were seen to bend with joy towards the
sound of their praise." To proceed, in the beautiful language of Ossian,
"The sound was mournful and low, like the song of the tomb;" such as
Fingal heard, when the crowded sighs of his bosom rose; and, "some of my
heroes are low," said the gray-haired King of Morven: "I hear the sound
of death on the harp. Ossian, touch the trembling string. Bid the sorrow
rise, that their spirits may fly with joy to Morven's woody hills. He
touched the harp before the king: the sound was mournful and low. Bend
forwards from your clouds," he said, "ghosts of my fathers, bend. Lay by
the red terror of your course. Receive the falling chief; whether he
comes from a distant land, or rises from the rolling sea, let his robe
of mist be near; his spear, that is formed of a cloud; place an
half-extinguished meteor by his side, in the form of the hero's sword.
And, oh! let his countenance be lovely, that his friends may delight in
his presence. Bend from your clouds," he said, "ghosts of my fathers,
bend."
The sweet enthusiasm which arose in Amanda's mind, from her present
situation, her careful nurse soon put an end to, by reminding her of the
heavy dew then falling. Amanda could have stayed for hours in the
garden; but resigning her inclination to her nurse's, she immediately
accompanied her into the house. She soon felt inclined to retire to
rest; and, after a slight supper of strawberries and cream (which was
all they could prevail on her to touch), she withdrew to her chamber,
attended by the nurse and her two daughters, who all thought their
services requisite; and it was not without much difficulty Amanda
persuaded them to the contrary.
Left to solitude, a tender awe stole upon the mind of Amanda, when she
reflected that in this very room her mother had expired. The
recollection of her sufferings--the sorrows her father and self had
experienced since the period of her death--the distresses they still
felt and might yet go through--all raised a sudden agony in her soul,
and tears burst forth. She went to the bed, and knelt beside it; "Oh! my
mother," she cried, "if thy departed spirit be permitted to look down
upon this world, hear and regard the supplications of thy child, for thy
protection amidst the snares which may be spread for her. Yet,"
continued she, after a pause, "that Being, who has taken thee to
himself, will, if I continue innocent, extend his guardian care: to Him,
therefore, to Him be raised the fervent prayer for rendering abortive
every scheme of treachery."
She prayed with all the fervency of devotion; her wandering thoughts
were all restrained, and her passions gradually subsided into a calm.
Warmed by a pure and ardent piety, that sacred power which comes with
healing on its wings to the afflicted children of humanity, she felt a
placid hope spring in her heart, that whispered to it, all would yet be
well.
She arose tranquil and animated. The inhabitants of the cottage had
retired to repose; and she heard no sound save the ticking of the clock
from the outside room. She went to the window, and raising the white
calico curtain, looked down the valley; it was illumined by the beams of
the moon, which tipped the trees with a shadowy silver, and threw a line
of radiance on the clear rivulet. All was still, as if creation slept
upon the bosom of serenity. Here, while contemplating the scene, a
sudden flutter at the window startled her; and she saw in a moment after
a bird flit across, and perch upon a tree whose boughs shaded the
casement; a soft serenade was immediately begun by the sweet and
plaintive bird of night.
Amanda at length dropped the curtain, and sought repose; it soon blessed
her eyelids, and shed a sweet oblivion over all her cares.
"Sleep on, sweet innocent!
And when a soul is found sincerely so,
A thousand liveried angels lacquey it,
Driving far off all thought of harm or sin."--MILTON.