a thousand times. I know I am a villain; but Mrs. Ashburn shall never
suspect me. I will be the obedient slave of her will. She shall mould me
to whatever shape her pleasure inclines. I will be more docile than
infancy. I will forego my very nature, at her command.'
'But you have not foreseen, Mr. Davenport, that the time must arrive
when her volatility and incessant eagerness after pleasure will cease
to relieve you. It is in the hours of age and infirmity that she will
call on you for aid, will seek in your soothing voice, in your cheering
smile a relief from pain: and how will you perform your task in those
multiplied moments? My mother does not want discernment: and what will
be your torture to see her dying perhaps under the agonizing reflection
that the man on whose honour she relied, on whose faith and sincerity
her hopes had towered to felicity, that, her husband had deceived her,
perhaps had loved another.'
He became pale as death. I continued. 'But you shall not hasten to this
destruction. I will prevent this marriage.'
'Miss Ashburn, for heaven's sake!' cried he: 'I have no other means--I
must--marry.'
I took hold of his hand, for he trembled. 'I wish to be your friend, Mr.
Davenport; indeed I am your friend, at this moment; it is far from my
intention to tear from you this fallacious hope, without placing some
certain and honourable advantage in its stead. Let me know your history.
Neither conceal from me your wants nor your feelings, nor the situations
they have throw you into; and I will undertake to do you every service
that reason and humanity suggest.'
He attempted in vain to answer. Throwing himself back in the chair, he
covered his face with an handkerchief, and shed tears.
I believe it was near a quarter of an hour ere he recovered from his
agitation, and was able to speak as follows.
'My father was himself so enamoured of pomp that, although he allowed
me, an only son, to share the magnificence of his town residence, yet he
confined my sisters with their governess and two servants to a small
house he possessed in a cheap country. I saw them only once a year; and
the solitude of their abode was so irksome to me, that I was always
eager to quit and unwilling to return at the usual period. However,
about the time I was to set out on my travels, it was judged decent and
necessary that I should pay them a visit of unusual length, as they were
now almost women; and to my great surprise I found their old governess
removed, and a young person with them as companion whom alas I did love
to distraction.
'Weeks only were allotted to my stay, but I staid months. My father's
mandates for my return were no sooner read than forgotten. All was
enchantment and happiness. My sisters loved Arabella affectionately; and
had so little knowledge of the world as to imagine our union altogether
proper and probable.
At length, either surprised or alarmed at my continuance in the country,
or having certain intelligence of my engagements, my father arrived one
evening secretly and altogether unexpectedly. And, while we imagined our
joys secure from interruption, he listened behind the little
summer-house in which Arabella and I were interchanging vows of eternal
constancy, till rage would not permit him to hear us longer. Then he
burst upon us; and, as I defended my love with vehemence, he deprived me
of present sensation by a blow.
'When I recovered I was confined to one room, and could obtain no
tidings of Arabella, no intercourse with my sisters nor any intermission
of the rigours of my imprisonment: although I obstinately refused all
sustenance beyond the small quantity which irresistible hunger compelled
me to eat against my will. In three weeks, one of my sisters found an
expedient to let me know Arabella had been turned out of the house, and
had taken shelter at the farm-house of a relation about five and twenty
miles distance; that my father gave her the character of an abandoned
strumpet, and vowed I should die in prison if I did not swear to
renounce her for ever.
'From this time, I laboured night and day in contriving my escape till I
effected it; and travelled the five and twenty miles with such speed in
my emaciated state that I had no sooner thrown myself into Arabella's
arms than I fell into fits. A fever succeeded; and, during this period,
the people of the house, though excessively poor, strove with all their
might to add comforts and conveniences to my situation. Arabella was my
nurse. To them I was bound by gratitude--to her my ties became
strengthened till they excluded reason, reflection, and prudence. The
moments of returning health were devoted to my affection. Our days were
passed alone. Our former distresses and future prospects were alike
forgotten; and we became as guilty as happy.
'Scarcely had we begun to repent our error, when my father discovered my
retreat; and once more tore me from my love. Guarded, fettered, and
enduring every species of brutal usage from those employed about me, I
was conveyed first to London, and then sent abroad, where I remained
above two years--refusing to give her up, and refused upon any other
terms to be allowed to return. My father's death gave me liberty. I flew
to England; and found my Arabella pining under the accumulated
distresses of extreme poverty, destroyed reputation, and a consumptive
habit: all which miseries were rendered doubly poignant by the
possession of an infant.
'I will not attempt, madam, to describe to you what I endured when I saw
her and my child wanting absolute necessaries. All I could call my own
was employed to procure medical advice for Arabella; and that all was a
trifle. My father, to the astonishment of every one, had died insolvent.
My sisters were taken into dependence by different relations; and I was
turned adrift on the world without knowledge or means to procure myself
one penny. To assist those who have no power to assist themselves, who
have no claims but on me, me the author of their calamity, I have
plunged myself into debt. The man of whom I have borrowed money pointed
out to me the plan of marrying your mother; and, when I revolted at the
dishonourable action, he showed me the opposite picture--a jail.--What
can I do, Miss Ashburn? Can I see them die--and consent to linger out my
wretched existence in a prison? No! I am driven by extremity of
distress; and must go on, or perish.'
'Does Arabella know you intend to marry?'
'O yes.'
'Where is she? May I see her?'
'She and her child reside at the distance of three miles from this
place.'
I prevailed on Mr. Davenport to ride with me to the village in which
Arabella resided; and, after introducing me to her, I also prevailed on
him to leave us alone.
Arabella had beside her a tambour frame, at which she worked, when her
cough and cold sweats would permit her. The little girl played on the
floor. She received us with that sort of composure which seemed to
denote the utter sacrifice of all her hopes and wishes, and that nothing
was now left to excite agitation. I said, 'I am no stranger to your
misfortunes, Arabella. In what manner did you support yourself, while
Mr. Davenport was abroad?'
'By fancy works,' replied she, pointing to the frame. 'I endeavoured
also to teach a school; but Mr. Davenport's father had spread such
reports of me, which the birth of my child but too well confirmed, that
scarce any one would give me the least encouragement.'
'What were your parents?'
'Poor shopkeepers, madam, who put themselves to numberless
inconveniences to qualify me for earning my subsistence in a comfortable
manner. Could I regain my health, and be removed to some place where no
one knew my faults, Mr. Davenport should not be burthened with either of
us; he should not----'
A tear rose, but quickly withdrew itself; and the serenity of a broken
heart again took possession of her features.
'Why have you not urged Mr. Davenport to engage in some trade or
profession?'
'Ah, madam, he has been brought up a gentleman. Trade would appear to
him an indelible disgrace. He thinks he ought to respect the honour of
his family, although they will not assist him. And as to a profession he
has not the means.'
'And can you consent to live in possession of his affection and
endearments, when he is married?'
'No, madam, no!' replied Arabella with firmness. 'The moment he becomes
a husband, he is as dead to me as if the cold grave concealed him. He
loves ease; he has been used to expence and pleasure--he will enjoy it
all. I cannot live long, nor do I desire to live. I know he never will
desert that poor babe--Don't you, madam, allow that innocent creature
fully entitled to a father's protection?'
I had just taken the child on my lap. 'Yes,' said I: 'and you Arabella
must live to see her possess it. My motives are not those of curiosity.
I come to do you service; and I insist that you hope for better days. It
shall be my part to devise better means than marriage for Mr. Davenport.
I intend shortly to visit you again.'
I could not converse with Mr. Davenport any more that day, for it was
necessary I should return and prepare myself to be partaker of a very
splendid entertainment given by Sir Thomas Barlowe to all the
fashionable people at Bath. I therefore engaged him to visit me again
the next morning, and we separated.
Making mention of the entertainment brings Mr. Murden to my remembrance;
and, as he played a part that very evening which attracted much notice
and gave rise to speculation, I shall here relate it before I return to
the subject of Mr. Davenport.
Ever since Mr. Murden joined us at Bath I have heard from his female
acquaintance perpetual complaints of him. He was, they say, seducing,
irresistible. No vivacity was ever so delicate as Murden's. No flattery
ever so dangerous as from him. His look, his air, his voice, his
gestures, all had their own peculiar character of persuasion. Thus
captivating they say he was; and they lament, with all the energy of
which they are capable, that he should now have become dull, lifeless
and unbearable. I too, Sibella, have found him transformed. I see him
negligent and inattentive to me and others; but he is neither dull nor
lifeless. Some vision of imagination seems to possess him, to infuse
into him as it were a new existence. I have seen his cheek glow, his eye
beam. I have heard his breathings but half uttered; and, although at
such moments I have suffered inconvenience from the want of his
attention and assistance, I would rather have placed my safety in hazard
than have disturbed his alluring dreams of fancy. So firmly has he
become inaccessible to the temptations of dissipation and sensuality,
that I revere his transformation and long for his confidence; but alas,
I have to regret that he is secret and mysterious, and that while at
Bath he has avoided me almost as constantly as he has neglected those
damsels of fashion who have been calling forth all their enchantments to
attract or subdue him.
To my great surprise, and some little satisfaction, no sooner was the
Nabob's ball in preparation than Mr. Murden requested to be my partner.
He had never danced here, though he had been frequently at the rooms;
and I did expect to be honoured on this occasion by my fair friends with
some very scornful looks and important whispers.--Hear the result.
The company assembled, a numerous and brilliant party. I had caught a
previous glimpse of Mr. Murden elegantly dressed, and I expected every
moment his appearance in the ball-room. That I was engaged I answered to
several invitations; but to whom was yet in embryo, for the first,
second, third and fourth minuet had been danced, and yet no partner for
me appeared.
At length he came, but not with the smile of pleasure, not with the soft
tread of politeness, the complacent mien of attention. No: he actually
rushed upon us, his features almost distorted with some species of
passion, his hair deranged, and the powder showered on his dress as if
he had been dashing his head against some hard substance in a paroxysm
of rage. And in this strange manner did he, with eager long strides,
cross the saloon, and throw himself into the vacant seat beside me,
uttering a deep groan.
The eyes of every one were upon him; and astonishment imposed silence on
every tongue. 'Miss Ashburn! Miss Ashburn!' repeated he twice very loud;
then closed his teeth and murmured through them some words I could not
understand, and several horrid imprecations. He sat thus a few minutes,
his countenance varying from the deepest red to a most livid paleness,
when Sir Thomas approached. 'Why, nephew! why Arthur! what, what, are
you ill?--are you----?' and, without finishing his speech, the baronet
retired abruptly; for Murden gnashing his teeth at that instant his
uncle conceived he was mad; and I believe the baronet was scarce
assured he had escaped the infection.
A bolder man now walked up. No less than the Earl of Ulson, of whom you
have heard me speak. ''Pon my soul, Murden, this is superlatively
unusual! The ladies are actually terrified. Zounds! Murden, you
must----'
We had not the good fortune to hear his lordship's advice to the end:
for Mr. Murden, utterly inattentive to any thing but his own agitations,
now snatched a crumpled letter from his pocket; and, tearing it into a
thousand pieces, dashed the fragments on the floor. He there
contemplated them a moment with a malignant smile; then carefully
gathered up every fragment, and darted out of the room.
The band continued playing quite composedly; but the company assembled
in separate groups, to communicate their various conjectures on the very
extraordinary gambol this extraordinary young man had been playing. Sir
Thomas's gentleman and a valet were sent in search of him and ordered to
enquire into his malady; but we were presently informed that he was
writing in his own chamber, and had bitterly sworn to blow out the
brains of whatever person should dare to interrupt him. Brains not being
a superfluity here, we e'en resolved to resume our dancing, and leave
him alone to be as mad as he thought proper.
On the succeeding morning, I met him early and alone in the breakfast
room. I was agitated with the expectation of hearing something painful
and astonishing. I even intreated to be admitted to his confidence. He
referred me to some future period. He spoke with calmness and
resolution, but he seldom looked up. When the rest of the family joined
us, my mother amused herself with affecting a ridiculous pity for him,
Lady Barlowe painted her astonishment, while his uncle with much more
sincerity laboured to impress us with an adequate idea of the terror he
had suffered the preceding evening. Every syllable sunk into the soul of
Murden. He preserved an inflexible and haughty silence: but I saw, in
his agitated countenance, that he was frequently on the point of
bursting into rage and madness. Sir Thomas Barlowe will on many
occasions wind a shapeless circumstance round and round, till he has
persuaded himself he has discovered something in it really insulting and
injurious to him. He now conjectured, surmised, and talked of Murden's
behaviour, till he had assured himself it could have no other design
than to afflict him, the most affectionate of uncles; and, having for a
short time indulged in the pathos of lamentation, he began to weep.
Although I could scarcely forbear smiling at Sir Thomas Barlowe's folly,
yet I was considerably affected by the sudden transition the baronet's
tears produced in Murden. He forgot his anger and his dejection; he
pressed his uncle's hand; soothed him with kind expressions: and,
suddenly assuming an air of cheerfulness, began to hand the cups and
arrange the tea-table.
'You are in love with some creature you are ashamed of, Murden,' said my
mother; 'I will swear it.'
'Do, madam,' replied he.
'Now do tell, me nephew Arthur,' said the baronet, 'why you tore it to
pieces so unmercifully--tell me, dear Arthur, all about that letter.'
Why should he, Sibella, have fixed his eyes on me, while the colour
rushed from his cheek, at the mention of that letter? Why did he groan?
Why did he appear no more during the whole of that day? Why has he since
been so uniformly pensive? Why seek me as a companion, yet reject me as
a friend? Such are the enquiries constantly obtruding themselves upon
me.
Adieu, dear Sibella. The remainder of Davenport's story must again be
deferred till another opportunity.
CAROLINE ASHBURN
LETTER III
FROM CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
TO
ARTHUR MURDEN
Sweet enthusiast! I loveliest romancer! sustained by thee, I could
boldly defy the maxims of the world, could bear unmoved its taunting
scorns, its loudest reproaches. Stimulated by thy visionary precepts, I
could rush alone on its host of temptations, and attempt with the
giant step of fortitude to tread their legions into nothingness!
Methinks, Arthur, I see her now: and an increase of warmth glides
through every vein till it reaches my heart, which glows and throbs more
proudly and more proudly, that the arbitress of its every motion is
Sibella Valmont. Let imagination dress up her most airy forms, let fancy
exhaust the riches of her invention, the vision thus created may dazzle,
may delude in the absence of perfection; but bring the all-radiant
charms of Sibella in contrast, and it sinks into vapour. Painting and
language are alike incompetent to represent her.--Ha! that thought again
shoots across my brain--I--I was inconstant!--Oh, I would give an eye,
an ear, nay a limb, that I had never known other embraces!--Then I might
have been all soul too:--what she now is, what I can imagine but never
shall experience.--Yes, you gave the advice, Murden; and I, deserving
almost damnation for the deed, stooped to gross allurements, and obeyed
the calls of appetite, and I ought to have braved death in support of my
constancy. Thank God! she cannot know it! And oh, may annihilation, or
the worst of curses, fall on this head, rather than I again pollute
myself, or entertain one thought within my breast that may not rank with
her angelic purity!
Yes, Murden, I say purity. Ay, and she is as pure as angels,
notwithstanding Clement has been admitted to her embraces. For I am her
husband. She never heard of ties more holy, more binding, than those of
the heart. Custom has not placed its sordid restraint on her feelings.
Nature forms her impulses. Oh, she is Nature's genuine child! more
lovely than painting can trace: yet robust as the peasant who climbs yon
hill to toil for his hourly subsistence--soft as her lover's bounding
wishes can desire: yet stedfast, aspiring, brave enough to lead an army
in the field. No cowardly apprehensions enter her mind. She shrinks not
from the wintry blast. Let the torrent descend, the wind howl, the
lowering thunder roar: it affects not her peace. No trembling nerves has
she!
Methinks I see her now: I hear again the harmony of that voice; now
softening into the scarcely audible adieu; now rising into firmness, to
instruct her Clement how to bear his destiny.
I had just quitted Mr. Valmont's study, where I underwent another
torturing repetition of all the inconsistency of his designs for us. So
freezing was his language, that it appeared to chill sensation; and when
he presented me the 500l, which is to open my prospects in life, I was
scarcely sensible either of its value or design.--I believe I never
thanked him; and though I did not take his offered hand, its touch I
dreaded more than the torpedo.
Languid, sunk, and overwhelmed, I crawled with feeble steps to my
Sibella.--What a change! her vigour awakened mine; and as though hope,
perseverance and courage had resigned themselves to her guidance, she
commanded them to possess me wholly--commanded me to receive the noble
inmates, and to vow I would be bravely independent, though a bed of
straw were my portion and crumbs my fare.
I write this letter at my first resting place since I quitted Valmont
castle; and the benignancy of my lovely Sibella has even chased my
resentment towards you, but should an hour of lassitude perchance creep
on me in my banishment, I may be tempted to enquire narrowly into the
nature of your very mysterious epistles.
CLEMENT MONTGOMERY
LETTER IV
FROM SIBELLA VALMONT
TO
CAROLINE ASHBURN
Clement--my Clement is gone! All is silence around me. The trees have
dropped their leafy ornaments; the wind sweeps through them in mournful
cadence. Their foliage no longer intercepts my eye when it would extend
itself around the vast horizon. I, now seated on the ivy-covered ruins
of the hermitage, view this space; and tell myself it contains not one
being to whom Sibella is the object of esteem, tenderness, or concern.
Oh Caroline, Caroline! I am weary of this solitude. My mind bursts the
bounds prescribed to my person, and impels itself forward to share the
advantages of society. Compelled to return to its prison, it is
disgusted with its own conceptions, and sinks into languor and
dissatisfaction. Could it be my parents who doomed me to this slavery?
Did they deem the benefits of intercourse a blessing too great for their
innocent offspring? No: it must be Mr. Valmont's own plan; 'tis he alone
who could wish to rob me of the faculties of my soul; and, finding I
dare think, dare aim to extend them, dare seek to be happy, he shuns me
with aversion or loads me with reproach.
Why, if he meant me to degenerate into the mere brute, did he not chain
me in a cave, shut out the light of the glorious sun, forbid me to
converse with intelligent nature? Then I might have expressed my wants
in a savage way; have ravenously satisfied the calls of hunger or
thirst; and, lying down to enjoy the sleep of apathy, have thought, if I
could have thought at all, that this was to be happy. A being superior
to this only in a little craft, did Mr. Valmont design to make me: a
timid, docile slave, whose thoughts, will, passions, wishes, should have
no standard of their own, but rise, change or die as the will of a
master should require! Such is the height of virtues I have heard Mr.
Valmont describe as my zenith of perfection.
He laments that he suffered me to share in Clement's education. Happy
mistake! Then I found I was to be the friend and companion of man--Man
the image of Divinity!--Where, then, are the boundaries placed that are
to restrain my thought?--To be the companion, I must be equal--To be the
friend, I must have comprehension and judgment: must be able to assist,
or willing to be taught.
In the little intercourse I have had with Mrs. Valmont, she also has
placed before me her picture of females: a picture as absurd and much
more unintelligible to me than the other. She represents beauty as the
supreme good; ascribes to it the most fabulous effects of power,
conquest, and dominion. She represented me to myself as entering your
world; and transformed me into a being so totally without description,
that I ran from her to seek again my own nature: to find the friend and
companion of man.
You, Caroline, are not such as either of these people describe. No: nor
am I. Then shall I--but let me be content--a very short time and I shall
join my Clement: shall aid his labour with my exertions. Oh, my Clement,
my love, my lover, speed forward to the accomplishment of thy talk! Oh,
be thy desires as bounded as my wishes! Thy Sibella covets no castles,
no palaces. Seek for her but a shelter from inclemency, and take her
therein to liberty, to thee!
Often, Caroline, have I imagined the useless parts of that vast building
converted into little cottages such as I have seen from the top of its
turrets. Fancy has instantly peopled the desert. I have believed myself
surrounded by an active hardy race. I have arisen to enjoy the delights
of communication: when, perchance, the rushing of a silent fawn through
the thicket has awakened me from my trance; has reminded me that I too
was one of the solitary herd; that the castle with its moats, walls, and
battlements yet stood where gloom and silence hold their court, where
Mr. Valmont presides and denies Sibella his presence, and where the
inexorable key is turned on that library lest she should think too often
or too well.