Читать книгу Lady Rosamond's Secret - Rebecca Agatha Armour - Страница 7

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Breathes there a man with soul so dead,

Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land!—Scott.

A September sunset in Fredericton, AD 1824. Much has been said and sung about the beauteous scenes of nature in every clime. Scott has lovingly depicted his native heaths, mountains, lochs and glens. Moore draws deep inspiration amid scenes of the Emerald Isle, and strikes his lyre to chords of awakening love, light and song. Cowper, Southey and Wordsworth raised their voices in tuneful and harmonious lays, echoing love of native home. Our beloved American poet has wreathed in song the love of nature's wooing in his immortal Hiawatha. Forests in their primeval grandeur, lovely landscapes, sunrise, noonday and sunset—each has attracted the keen poetic gaze. Though not the theme of poet or pen—who that looks upon our autumn sunset can deny its charms? The western horizon, a mass of living gold, flitting in incessant array and mingling with the different layers of purple, violet, pink, crimson, and tempting hues of indescribable beauty; at intervals forming regular and successive strata of deep blue and red, deepening into bright red. Suddenly as with magic wand a golden cloud shoots through and transforms the whole with dazzling splendour. The bewildering reflection upon the trees as they raise their heads in lofty appreciation, forms a pleasing background, while Heaven's ethereal blue lies calmly floating above. The gently sloping hills lend variety to the scene, stretching in undulations of soft and rich verdure; luxuriant meadow and cultivated fields lie in alternate range. The sons of toil are returning from labour; the birds have sought shelter in their nests; the nimble squirrel hides beneath the leafy boughs, or finds refuge in the sheltering grass, until the next day's wants shall urge a repeated attack upon the goodly spoils of harvest. Soon the golden sheen is departing, casting backward glances upon the hill tops with studied coyness, as lingering to caress the deepening charms of nature's unlimited and priceless wardrobe.

Amid such glowing beauty could the mind hold revel on a glorious September sunset in Fredericton, 1824. To any one possessed with the least perception of the beautiful, is there not full scope in this direction? Is not one fully rewarded by a daily stroll in the suburban districts of Fredericton, more especially the one now faintly described? If any one asks why the present site was chosen for Government House in preference to the lower part of the city, there would be no presumption in the inference—selected no doubt with due appreciation of its view both from river and hills on western side. Truly its striking beauty might give rise to the well established title of "Celestial City." Though unadorned by lofty monuments of imposing stateliness, costly public buildings, or princely residences, Fredericton lays claim to a higher and more primitive order of architecture than that of Hellenic ages. The Universal Architect lingered lovingly in studying the effect of successive design. Trees of grace and beauty arose on every side in exquisite drapery, while softly curved outlines added harmony to the whole, teaching the wondrous and creative skill of the Divine. The picturesque river flows gently on, calm, placid, and unruffled save by an occasional splash of oars of the pleasure seekers, whose small white boats dotted the silvery surface and were reflected in the calm depths below.

On such an evening more than half a century ago when the present site of Government House was occupied by the plain wooden structure known as "Old Government House," a group of ladies was seated on the balcony apparently occupied in watching the lingering rays descending behind the hills. Suddenly the foremost one, a lovely and animated girl whose beauty baffled description, espied a gentleman busily engaged in admiring some choice specimens of flowers which were being carefully cultivated by a skilful gardener. Bounding away with the elasticity of a fawn, her graceful form was seen to advantage as she stood beside the high-bred and distinguished botanist. The simple acts of pleasantry that passed shewed their relationship as that of parent and child. Sir Howard Douglas was proud of his beautiful and favorite daughter. He saw in her the wondrous beauty of her mother blending with those graces and rare qualities of the heart which won for Lady Douglas the deep admiration of all classes. Beauty and amiability were not the entire gifts of Mary Douglas. She was endowed with attainments of no ordinary stamp. Though young, she displayed uncommon ability in many different branches of education; shewing some skill as a composer and musician, also a talent for composition and poetry. With simple earnestness she placed her hand lovingly upon her father's shoulder, exclaiming "Papa, dear, I have come to watch you arrange those lovely flowers." "Well, my dear, you are welcome to remain. I am certainly complimented by such preference. You must allow me to acknowledge it by this," saying which, the fond parent plucked a white rosebud and fastened it in the snowy lace upon the bosom of his child. "Papa, dearest, one act of love certainly deserves another," exclaimed Mary, as she fondly pressed the lips of Sir Howard, adding "remember that you are my chevalier for the remainder of the evening. When you have finished, we will rejoin the company." Mary Douglas seated herself in a rustic chair and chatted in gay and animated tones while her father listened with a deep interest. The well tried soldier, the gallant commander at Badajos, at Corunna, the hero of many fierce conflicts, and the firm friend and favourite of the Duke of Wellington, listened to the conversation of his daughter with as much keenness as a question involving the strongest points of diplomacy.

"Papa, this garden will fully repay you for your labour. I do wish that I could understand and enter into the study of plants and flowers as you do." "Ah, my Mary," exclaimed Sir Howard in a deep reverential tone, as his thoughts went back to the days of his boyhood, "I had a kind benefactress, and I may say mother in my aunt Helena. She created in me an early love for flowers, and I have always cherished it. Often during my campaign in the Peninsula, the sight of a lovely flower would call up emotions that would for the time unman me for the raging conflicts of battle. I always look upon flowers as the trophies of God's grace. Mary, I trust you yet will be able to attend to the cultivation of Heaven's choicest offerings, and remember, that by so doing, you only contribute a small share in the beautifying of nature." Having enjoyed this strain of converse for some length of time, Mary Douglas rose, exclaiming, "Now, Papa, you are at my service." Sir Howard bowed, and offered his arm to his fair daughter. Together they went out, being greeted by the merry party still lingering on the verandah. "Explain, Mary," said the foremost of the party, "this breach of confidence and utter contempt of the necessities of your friends. We have been vainly waiting your appearance to join us in a walk, and now it is nearly time to dress for dinner." "Very prettily said, Lady Rosamond," replied Sir Howard, "but as I wear my lady's favour, you will grant me a hearing on her behalf." Pointing to the spray of mignonnette and forget-me-not which Mary Douglas had placed on his coat, he continued, "I hope that your company has employed the moments as profitably. We commenced with vows of love and constancy, then followed topics of general conversation, and ended on the study of flowers. With this explanation perhaps some of this goodly company might favor us with a like result." "I venture to say, your Excellency, that in the present instance, we might too clearly prove the old saying as regards comparisons," returned Lieut. Trevelyan, "and would therefore enjoin silence." "Ah, no, Mr. Trevelyan," said Miss Douglas, "we will not allow our claim to be set aside in this manner. We must muster courage in our own self-defence as an offset to your acquiescence, or else papa will wear his laurels very lightly."

"In the first instance," said she, "we were admiring the beautiful sunset, the soft outline of the hills, and the beauty of the landscape. Is that not worthy of describing, papa?" The eldest daughter of this distinguished family made this appeal with a face beaming with the enthusiasm of her deep appreciative nature. Anne Douglas possessed not the great beauty of her sister Mary, yet was a lovely and loveable woman, capable of inspiring deep regard. Sir Howard acknowledged by saying, that if she continued, the comparison would turn the weight on the other side. "Not yet, papa dear," said Miss Douglas, "you must hear further. We were speaking freely of our warm reception from the citizens, of the social resources of Fredericton, its commercial interests; and before you joined us, were planning to ask your assistance, by giving your views and opinion of Fredericton in its general aspect, as presented on your arrival." "Mr. Trevelyan," ventured Sir Howard, "I am sorry to acknowledge that the ladies have sufficient cause to charge you with desertion of your colours; but the end may not justify the means." "Ah, papa, your inference is indirect—you will not surely justify Mr. Trevelyan." "In the present state of affairs," exclaimed Sir Howard, in playful military tone, "the enemy is preparing for action. The only chance of success is thus—retreat under cover of fire, or fall back on the strength of defence." "Your Excellency has a stronghold in the enemy's quarter," joined in Lady Rosamond, who had been seated at the side of Captain Charles Douglas, their eldest son. "Before testing the strength of our forces let there be a short truce, on condition that His Excellency will give us the desired information this evening," said Mr. Trevelyan, playfully endeavouring to conciliate Miss Douglas. At this moment Lady Douglas formed an attractive feature to the group. Her graceful form, dignity of gesture and gentle expression was a subject of admiration. Her winning smile was greeted by recognitions of deep and respectful courtesy on the part of the gentlemen.

"My Lady, fortune has at last condescended to favour me by your appearance among us," said Mr. Trevelyan, rising and advancing towards Her Ladyship, while a blush suffused his handsome face, hastily making its way with deepening colour, showing the clear and open hearted spirit of the young Lieutenant. "We now have hopes of a speedy restoration." Mr. Trevelyan then related the foregoing sallies to the fair arbitress, who listened with keen relish and enjoyment. "As I have arrived at this unfavourable moment," said Her Ladyship, "I will try to end the matter satisfactorily to all parties. His Excellency being one of the chief actors, shall forfeit his liberty by devoting an hour in satisfying the present demands of the company. Mr. Trevelyan also, will only extricate himself from his present position by giving one of his many excellent renditions from Shakespeare or any of the favorite authors. Do you not all agree to this decision?" As Lady Douglas glanced towards her daughter Mary, she read in those beautiful eyes a mischievous flash directed towards Miss Douglas. "If I judge aright there is yet another to be brought to hasty retribution," said the former. "Pardon me, but I think your Ladyship is rather severe," said the youthful lieutenant with a boyish flush of youth upon his brow. "I beg that the penalty imposed upon Miss Douglas may be something which rests upon her direct choice." "Treason within the camp," exclaimed Captain Douglas, in his military tone. "Trevelyan, beware, you are being caught in a pitfall." Lady Douglas smiled as she turned to Miss Douglas, saying "Mr. Trevelyan's request shall be granted, you can choose your own task of imposition, music, reading, or any other pastime." "The matter is settled, thanks to her Ladyship," exclaimed Sir Howard, "and I beg leave to withdraw to mature my views for the coming lengthy topic of this evening." The hour being announced warned the ladies to prepare for dinner, the group separated leaving the verandah to the romps of two favorite hounds, a spaniel, and a pair of tame rabbits.

While preparations are thus going on in the different apartments of Government House, a carriage arrives with its occupant, Mr. Howe, private secretary to Sir Howard. The carriage, a handsome one, is driven by a span of full-blooded Arabian horses; magnificent specimens of their species; proudly sits their owner in his costly equipage. As a man of wealth, high family, Mr. Howe occupied a prominent position in the household of the Douglas family. His coming is awaited with eagerness. Captain Douglas, his friend and companion, is at his side in a moment addressing him with hearty familiarity, "Howe, you are late. Has business been pressing? Takes some time to get reconciled to the hum drum of life in New Brunswick! Well, old fellow, send around the horses and we will yet have time for a cigar before dinner. Strange, I enjoy one better before than after. You know I am an odd bird in every sense. Was odd last evening at mess when we got the rubber." "Douglas, one thing is confoundedly odd." "How did the natives of New Brunswick ever impose upon the British Government to send a governor and a private secretary," interrupted Charles Douglas. "Ha, ha, ha," laughed the latter, with repeated and renewed attacks. "Howe, you have been baulked in some design to-day; perhaps the fair one smiled on another, or odder still, some rival is ready to exchange a few kindly shots." "Oh, Douglas, for Heaven's sake stop and save your breath for more interesting topics," exclaimed the latter. The secretary lit a cigar and sat down to glance over the contents of a letter. Muttering some irreverent expressions upon the writer. "Howe, you 'see through a glass darkly,'" yelled Captain Douglas, "to-morrow you will see face to face Major McNair and the sports of H.M. 52nd. It will be mightily odd if you do not give them a brush. Count upon me, too, as I intend to show in earnest what stuff Prince is made of." "One thing you show," said Mr. Howe, with a strange grin—"a desire to turn parson or priest. I might make a few suppositions without interruption. Perhaps you have been initiating yourself in the good graces of a Rev. Clergyman, by a few such quotations. Perhaps the church might take better in New Brunswick than the army. Douglas, with all your perhapses, you are a cunning diplomatist." "You certainly do me credit, Howe," said his friend; "I possess enough cunning to perceive that you are not in your native element this September 22nd, 1824."

The private secretary of His Excellency, Sir Howard Douglas, was a man of no ordinary stamp. He had ability and coolness; the last named quality had gained him much favour from the veteran commander, and a desire to retain his service. Tall, slight and athletic, Mr. Howe was foremost in all feats of physical sports. Horse racing was his greatest mania. Few could manage a horse as he, and fewer still could own one faster than his favourite mare, Bess. Quickly he rose to his feet with "Jove, Douglas, I feel angry with myself and everybody." "Then keep your distance, I beseech you," returned Captain Douglas, in his usual jolly manner. "Listen for a moment and hear my scrape," said Howe. "Down in the mess this afternoon we got talking,"—"horse, of course," said the Captain—"yes, horse," said the former, "and got mixed up into one of the greatest skirmishes ever heard of. Captain Markham swore and raged like a wild beast Captain Hawley bit his lips with anger, and when I tried to conciliate matters, they turned on me like a set of vipers. In fact, with two or three exceptions, they hung together and irated me in good round English, forward and backward with little regard to Johnson or any of the time-honoured lexicographers. It was a hot encounter. In spite of anger, I cannot help laughing, to think how they abused each other, and, in turn, united themselves into a general force, directing the fire of their battery upon me. By St. George of England, it was too much. Of Course this is only the beginning of a series of such demonstrations." "All's well that ends well," returned Captain Douglas, "a night's sleep will restore all to a former footing. Major McNair would frown upon any breach thus made."