The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I

S >> Susanna Moodie >> The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I

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"Several years passed away. The only intercourse between the families
was through Sir Alexander and his cousin Robert, who, in spite of the
young Baronet's aversion, contrived to stick to him like a bur, until
he fairly wriggled himself into his favour. At thirty, Sir Alexander
still remained a bachelor, and seemed too general an admirer of the sex
to resign his liberty to any particular _belle_.

"About this period of my story one of Sir Alexander's game-keepers was
shot by a band of poachers, who infested the neighbourhood. Richard
North, the husband of Dinah, had made himself most obnoxious to these
lawless depredators, and thus fell a victim to his over-zeal.

"Sir Alexander considered himself bound in honour to provide for the
widow and her daughter of his faithful servant, particularly as the
former had been left without any means of support. Both mother and
daughter were received into his service--Dinah as housekeeper at the
Hall, and her daughter Rachel as upper chamber-maid.

"Dinah, at that period, was not more than thirty-four years of age, and
for a person of her class was well educated, and uncommonly handsome. I
see you smile, Geoffrey, but such was the fact.

"Rachel, who was just sixteen, was considered a perfect model of female
beauty, by all the young fellows who kept Bachelors' Hall with Sir
Alexander. The young Baronet fell desperately in love with his fair
dependent, and the girl and her mother entertained hopes that he would
make her his wife. Pride, however, hindered him from making her Lady
Moncton. In order to break the spell that bound him he gave the mother
a pretty cottage on the estate, and a few acres of land rent-free, and
went up to London to forget, amid its gay scenes, the bright eyes that
had sorely wounded his peace.

"Dinah North was not a woman likely to bear with indifference the pangs
of disappointed ambition. She bitterly reproached her daughter for
having played her cards so ill, and vowed vengeance on the proud lord
of the manor, in curses loud and deep.

"Rachel's character, though not quite so harshly defined, possessed too
much of the vindictive nature of the mother. She had loved Sir
Alexander with all the ardour of a first youthful attachment. His
wealth and station were nothing to her--it was the man alone she
prized. Had he been a peasant, she would have loved as warmly and as
well. Lost to her for ever, she overlooked the great pecuniary favours
just conferred upon her mother and herself, and only lived to be
revenged.

"It was while smarting under their recent disappointment that these
women were sought out and bribed by Robert Moncton to become his agents
in a deep-laid conspiracy, which he hoped to carry out against Sir
Alexander and his family.

"Robert Moncton was still unmarried, and Dinah took the charge of his
establishment, being greatly enraged with her beautiful daughter for
making a run-away match with Roger Mornington, Sir Alexander's
huntsman, who was a handsome man, and the finest rider in the county of
York.

"After an absence of five years, Sir Alexander suddenly returned to
Moncton Park, accompanied by a young and lovely bride. During that five
years, a great change had taken place in the young Baronet, who
returned a sincere Christian and an altered man.

"Devotedly attached to the virtuous and beautiful lady whom he had
wisely chosen for his mate, the whole study of his life was to please
her, and keep alive the tender affections of the noble heart he had
secured.

"They loved, as few modern couples love; and Sir Alexander's friends,
and he had many, deeply sympathized in his happiness.

"Two beings alone upon his estate viewed his felicity with jealous and
malignant eyes--two beings, who, from their lowly and dependent
situations, would have been thought incapable of marring the happiness
which excited their envy. Dinah North had been reconciled to her
daughter, and they occupied the huntsman's lodge, a beautiful cottage
within the precincts of the park. Dinah had secretly vowed vengeance on
the man who, from principle, had saved her child from the splendid
shame the avaricious mother coveted. She was among the first to offer
her services, and those of her daughter, to Lady Moncton. The pretty
young wife of the huntsman attracted the attention of the lady of the
Hall, and she employed her constantly about her person, while in cases
of sickness, for she was very fragile, Dinah officiated as nurse.

"A year passed away, and the lady of the manor and the wife of the
lowly huntsman were both looking forward with anxious expectation to
the birth of their first-born.

"At midnight, on the 10th of October, 1804, an heir was given to the
proud house of Moncton; a weak, delicate, puny babe, who nearly cost
his mother her life. At the same hour, in the humble cottage at the
entrance of that rich domain, your poor friend, George Harrison (or
Philip Mornington, which is my real name) was launched upon the stormy
ocean of life."

At this part of Harrison's narrative I fell back upon my pillow and
groaned heavily.

George flew to my assistance, raising me in his arms and sprinkling
my face with water.

"Are you ill, dear Geoffrey?"

"Not ill, George, but grieved: sick at heart, that you should be
grandson to that dreadful old hag."

"We cannot choose our parentage," said George, sorrowfully. "The
station in which we are born, constitutes fate in this world; it is the
only thing pertaining to man over which his will has no control. We can
destroy our own lives, but our birth is entirely in the hands of
Providence. Could I have ordered it otherwise, I certainly should have
chosen a different mother."

He smiled mournfully, and bidding me to lie down and keep quiet,
resumed his tale.

"The delicate state of Lady Moncton's health precluding her from
nursing her child, my mother was chosen as substitute, and the weakly
infant was entrusted to her care. The noble mother was delighted with
the attention which Rachel bestowed upon the child, and loaded her with
presents. As to me, I was given into Dinah's charge, who felt small
remorse in depriving me of my natural food, if anything in the shape of
money was to be gained by the sacrifice. The physicians recommended
change of air for Lady Moncton's health; and Sir Alexander fixed on
Italy as the climate most likely to benefit his ailing and beloved
wife.

"My mother was offered large sums to accompany them, which she
steadfastly declined. Lady Moncton wept and entreated, but Rachel
Mornington was resolute in her refusal. 'No money,' she said, 'should
tempt her to desert her husband and child, much as she wished to oblige
Lady Moncton.'

"The infant heir of Moncton was thriving under her care, and she seemed
to love the baby, if possible, better than she did her own. Sir
Alexander and the physician persuaded Lady Moncton, though she yielded
most reluctantly to their wishes, to overcome her maternal solicitude,
and leave her child with his healthy and affectionate nurse.

"She parted from the infant with many tears, bestowing upon him the
most passionate caresses, and pathetically urging Rachel Mornington not
to neglect the important duties she had solemnly promised to perform.

"Three months had scarcely elapsed before the young heir of Moncton was
consigned to the family vault; and Sir Alexander and his wife were duly
apprised by Robert Moncton, who was solicitor for the family, of the
melancholy event. That this child did not come fairly by his death I
have strong reasons for suspecting, from various conversations which I
overheard when a child, pass between Robert Moncton, Dinah North, and
my mother.

"The news of their son's death, as may well be imagined, was received by
Sir Alexander and Lady Moncton with the most poignant grief; and six
years elapsed before she and her husband revisited Moncton Park.

"My mother was just recovering from her confinement with a lovely
little girl--the Alice, to whom you have often heard me allude--when
Sir Alexander and Lady Moncton arrived at the Hall. They brought with
them a delicate and beautiful infant of three months old.

"I can well remember Lady Moncton's first visit to the Lodge, to learn
from my mother's own lips the nature of the disease which had consigned
her son to his early grave. I recollect my mother telling her that the
little George went to bed in perfect health, and died in a fit during
the night, before medical aid could be procured. She shed some tears
while she said this, and assured Lady Moncton that the baby's death had
occasioned her as much grief as if he had been her own--that she would
much rather that I had died than her dear nurse-child.

"I remember, as I leant against Dinah North's knees, thinking this very
hard of my mother, and wondering why she should prefer Lady Moncton's
son to me. But, from whatever cause her aversion sprang, she certainly
never had any maternal regard for me.

"Lady Moncton drew me to her, and with her sweet, fair face bathed in
tears, told my mother that I was a beautiful boy--that her darling
would have been just my age and size, and that she could not help
envying her her child. She patted my curly head, and kissed me
repeatedly, and said that I must come often to the Hall and see her,
and she would give me pretty toys, and teach me to read.

"Ah, how I loved her! Her kind, gentle voice was the first music I ever
heard. How I loved to sit at her feet when she came to the cottage, and
look up into her pale, calm face; and when she stooped down to kiss me,
and her glossy ringlets mingled with mine, I would fling my arms about
her slender neck, and whisper in a voice too low for my stern mother
and Dinah to hear:

"'I love you a thousand, thousand times better than anything else in
the world. Oh I how I wish I were your own little boy.'

"Then the bright tears would flow fast down her marble cheeks, and she
would sigh so deeply, as she returned with interest my childish
passionate caresses.

"Ah, Geoffrey, my childish heart spoke the truth. I loved that
high-born, noble woman, better than I have since loved aught in this
cold, bad world: at least, my affection for her was of a purer, holier
character.

"My mother was taken home to the Hall, to act as wet nurse to little
Margaret; and I remained at the cottage with my harsh, cross
grandmother, who beat me without the slightest remorse for the most
trifling faults, often cursing and wishing me dead, in the most
malignant manner.

"My father, whom I seldom saw (for his occupation took him often from
home, which was rendered too hot for comfort, by the temper of his
mother-in-law), was invariably kind to me. When he came in from the
stables he would tell me funny stories, and sing me jolly hunting
songs; and what I liked still better, would give me a ride before him
on the fine hunters he had under his care: promising that when I was
old enough, I should take them airing round the park, instead of him.

"My poor father! I can see him before me now, with his frank,
good-natured face, and laughing blue eyes: his stalwart figure, arrayed
in his green velvet hunting-coat, buckskin breeches and top-boots; and
the leather cap, round which his nut-brown hair clustered in thick
curls; and which he wore so jauntily on one side of his head. Roger
Mornington was quite a dandy in his way, and had belonged to a good old
stock; but his father ran away when a boy, and went to sea, and
disgraced his aristocratic friends; and Roger used to say, that he had
all the gentlemanly propensities, minus the cash.

"He doted upon me. 'His dear little jockey!' as he used to call me; and
I always ran out to meet him when he came home, with loud shouts of
joy. But there came a night, when Roger Mornington did not return; and
several days passed away, and he was at length found dead in a lonely
part of the park. The high-spirited horse he rode had thrown him, and
his neck was broken by the fall--and the horse not returning to the
stables, but making off to the high road, no alarm had been excited at
the absence of his rider.

"My mother was sincerely grieved for his death; he was a kind,
indulgent husband to her; and it was the first severe pang of sorrow
that my young heart had ever known.

"The day after his funeral, I was sitting crying beside the fire,
holding my untasted breakfast on my knee.

"'Don't take on so, child,' said my mother, wiping the tears from her
own eyes. 'All the tears in the world won't bring back the dead.'

"'And will dear daddy never come home again?' I sobbed. 'Ah, I have no
one to love me now, but the dear good lady up at the Hall!'

"'Don't I love you, Philip?'

"'No,' I replied scornfully, 'you don't love me, and you never did.'

"'How do you know that?'

"'Because you never kiss me, and take me up in your lap, as Lady
Moncton does, and look at me with kind eyes, and call me your dear boy.
No, no, when I come for you to love me, you push me away, and cry
angrily, 'Get away, you little pest! don't trouble me!' and grandmother
is always cursing me, and wishing me dead. Do you call _that_
love?'

"I never shall forget the ghastly smile that played about her beautiful
stern mouth, as she said unconsciously, aloud to herself: 'It is not
the child, but the voice of God that speaks through him. How can I
expect him to love me?'

"How I wondered what she meant. For years that mysterious sentence
haunted my dreams.

"I was soon called to endure a heavier grief. Lady Moncton's health
daily declined. She grew worse--was no longer able to go out in the
carriage, and the family physician went past our house many times
during the day on his way to the Hall.

"Old Dinah and my mother were constantly absent attending upon the sick
lady, and I was left in charge of a poor woman who came over to the
cottage to clean the house, and take care of little Alice, while my
mother was away.

"One day my mother came hastily in. She was flushed with walking fast,
and seemed much agitated. She seized upon me, washed my face and hands,
and began dressing me in my Sunday suit.

"'A strange whim this, in a dying woman,' said she, to the neighbour,
'to have such a craze for seeing other people's children. Giving all
this trouble for nothing.'

"After a good deal of pushing and shaking she dragged me off with her
to the Hall, and I was introduced into the solemn state chamber, where
my kind and noble friend was calmly breathing her last.

"Ah, Geoffrey, how well I can recall that parting hour, and the deep
impression it made on my mind. There, beneath that sumptuous canopy,
lay the young, the beautiful--still beautiful in death, with Heaven's
own smile lighted upon her pale serene face. God had set his holy seal
upon her brow. The Merciful, who delighteth in mercy, had marked her
for his own.

"Ah, what a fearful contrast to that angelic face was the dark fierce
countenance of Dinah North, scowling down upon the expiring saint, and
holding in her arms the sinless babe of that sweet mother.

"Rachel Mornington's proud handsome features wore their usual stern
expression, but her face was very pale, and her lips firmly compressed.
She held, or rather grasped me by the hand, as she led me up to the
bed.

"'Is that my little Philip?' said the dying woman in her usual sweet
tones. But the voice was so enfeebled by disease as to be scarcely
audible.

"'It is my son, my lady,' replied Rachel, and her voice slightly
faltered.

"'What says my love?' asked Sir Alexander, raising his head from the
bed-clothes in which his face had been buried to conceal his tears.

"'Lift the boy up to me, dearest Alick, that I may kiss him once more
before I die.'

"Sir Alexander lifted me into the bed beside her, and raised her up
gently with his other arm, so that both she and I were encircled in his
embrace. My young heart beat audibly. I heard Lady Moncton whisper to
her husband.

"'Alexander, he is your child. Ah, do not deny it now. You know, I love
you _too_ well to be jealous of you. Just tell me the honest truth?'

"A crimson glow spread over her husband's face, as, in the same hurried
whisper, he replied, 'Dearest Emilia, the likeness is purely
accidental. I pledge to you my solemn word, that he is not my son.'

"The poor lady looked doubtingly in his face. I saw a bitter scornful
smile pass over the rigid features of my mother; whilst I, foolish
child, was flattered with the presumption that I might possibly be Sir
Alexander's son.

"'Do not cry Philip, my darling boy!' said Lady Moncton, holding me
close to her breast. 'Sir Alexander will be a father to you for my
sake. I am very happy, my dear child; I am going to Heaven, where my
own sweet baby went before me; I shall meet him there. Be a good boy,
and love your mother, and your pretty little sister; and above all, my
dear child, love your Saviour, who can lead you through the dark valley
of the shadow of death, as gently as he is now leading me. Should you
live to be a man,' added she faintly, 'remember this hour, and the lady
who loved and adopted you as her son.'

"Then turning slowly towards her husband, she wound her thin transparent
hands about his neck; breathed a few words of love in his ear, unheard
by aught save him and me; and reclining her meek pale face upon his
manly breast, expired without a struggle.

"A deep solemn pause succeeded. I was too awe-struck to weep. The deep
convulsive sobs which burst from the heart of the bereaved husband
warned intruders to retire. My mother led me from the chamber of death,
and as we took our way in silence across the park, the solemn toll of
the death-bell floated through its beautiful glades.

"'Mother,' said I; clinging to her dress. 'What is that?'

"'The voice of death, Philip. Did you not hear that bell toll for your
father? It will one day toll for me--for you--for all.'

"'How I wish, mother, that that day would soon come.'

"'Silly boy! Do you wish us all dead?'

"'Not you mother, nor granny. You may both live as long as you like.
But when it tolls for me, I shall be in Heaven with dear Lady Moncton.'

"Rachel started, stopped suddenly, and fixed upon me a mournful gaze,
the only glance of tenderness which ever beamed upon me from those
brilliant, stern eyes.

"'Poor child! you may have your wish gratified only too soon. Did
Robert Moncton or Dinah North know of your existence, the green sod
would not lie long unpiled upon your head. You think I do not love you,
Philip!' she cried, passionately--'I do, I do, my poor child. I have
saved your life, though you think me so cross and stern.'

"She knelt down beside me on the grass, flung her arms round me, and
pressed me convulsively to her bosom, whilst big bright tears fell fast
over my wondering countenance.

"'Mother,' I sobbed, 'I do love you sometimes--always, when you speak
kindly, to me, as you do now; and I love dear little Alice--ah, so
much! my heart is full of love--I cannot tell you how much.'

"Rachel redoubled her weeping--a step sounded behind us--she sprang to
her feet, as Dinah North, with the little Margaret Moncton in her arms,
joined us.

"'What are you doing there, Rachel?' growled forth the hard-hearted
woman. 'Are you saying your prayers, or admiring the beauty of your
son. Hang the boy! though he is your child, I never can feel the least
interest in him.'

"'Is that his fault or yours?' said my mother, coldly.

"'Ah, mine, of course,' said Dinah, bitterly. 'We are not accountable
for our likes or dislikes. I hate the boy!'

"I looked at her with defiance in my eyes, and she answered my look
with a sharp blow on the cheek. 'Don't look at me, young dog, in that
insolent way. I have tamed prouder spirits than yours, and I'll tame
yours yet.'

"My mother gave her an angry glance, but said nothing, and we walked
slowly on. At last Dinah turned to her and said:

"'Rachel, this should be a proud and joyful day to you.'

"'In what respect, mother?'

"'Your rival's dead; you have gained your liberty, and Sir Alexander is
free to choose another wife. Do you understand me now?'

"'Perfectly; but that dream is past,' said my mother, mournfully. 'Sir
Alexander loved that dead angel too well, to place a woman of low
degree in her place. If he did not unite his destiny to mine when I was
young and beautiful, and he in the romance of life, don't flatter
yourself into the belief that he will do it now. I know human nature
better.'

"'You don't know your own power,' said Dinah; 'beauty is stronger than
rank and fortune, and you are still handsome enough to do a deal of
mischief among the men, if you only set about it in the right way.'

"'Peace! mother. I need none of your teaching. I learned to love
Mornington, and ceased to love Sir Alexander. Nay, I am really sorry
for the death of poor Lady Moncton, and should despise her husband if
he could forget her for one like me.'

"'Fool! idiot!' exclaimed Dinah, in a tone of exasperation. 'You have
ever stood in the way of your own fortune. Had you not been so over
squeamish you might have changed the children, and made your own son
the heir of the Moncton. Had I been at home, this surely would have
been done. This was all the good I got by leaving you to the guidance
of a handsome, good-natured fool like Mornington.'

"'Mother, speak more respectfully of the dead,' said Rachel. 'He was
_good_, at any rate, which we _are not_. It was my intention to have
changed the children, but God ordered it otherwise,' she continued,
with a convulsive laugh. 'However, I have had my revenge, but it has
cost me many a blighting thought.'

"'I don't understand you,' said Dinah, drawing close up before us, and
fixing a keen look of inquiry on her daughter.

"'Nor do I mean that you should,' coldly retorted Rachel. 'My secret is
worth keeping. You will know it one day too soon.'

"We had now reached home, and the presence of the strange woman put an
end to this mysterious conversation. Though only a boy of eight years
old, it struck me as so remarkable, that I could never forget it; and
now, when years have gone over me, I can distinctly recall every word
and look which passed between those sinful women. Alas, that one should
be so near to me.

"But you are sleepy, Geoffrey. The rest of my mournful history will
help to wile away the tedium of the long to-morrow."

CHAPTER XVI.

GEORGE HARRISON CONTINUES HIS HISTORY.

"The sorrows of my childhood were great," continued George, "but still
they were counterbalanced by many joys. In spite of the disadvantages
under which I laboured, my gay, elastic spirit surmounted them all.

"Naturally fearless and fond of adventure, I never shrunk from
difficulties, but felt a chivalrous pride in endeavouring to overcome
them. If I could not readily do this at the moment, I lived on in the
hope that the day would arrive when by perseverance and energy, I
should ultimately conquer.

"I have lived to prove that of which I early felt a proud conviction;
that it is no easy matter for a wicked person, let him be ever so
clever and cunning, to subdue a strong mind, which dares to be true to
itself.

"Dinah North felt my superiority even as a child, and the mortifying
consciousness increased her hatred. She feared the lofty spirit of the
boy whom her tyrannical temper could not tame; who laughed at her
threats, and defied her malice, and who, when freed from her control,
enjoyed the sweets of liberty in a tenfold degree.

"Sir Alexander put me to a school in the neighbourhood, where I learned
the first rudiments of my mother tongue, writing, reading, and simple
arithmetic. The school closed at half-past four o'clock in the
afternoon; when I returned to the Lodge, for so the cottage was called
in which we resided, and which stood just within the park at the head
of the noble avenue of old oaks and elms that led to the Hall. Two of
the loveliest, sweetest children nature ever formed were always at the
Park gates watching for my coming, when they ran to meet me with
exclamations of delight, and we wandered forth hand in hand to look for
wild fruit and flowers among the bosky dells and romantic uplands of
that enchanting spot.

"Alice Mornington and Margaretta Moncton were nearly the same age, born
at least within three months of each other, and were six years younger
than I. Strikingly different in their complexion, appearance and
disposition, the two little girls formed a beautiful contrast to each
other. Alice was exquisitely fair, with large, brilliant, blue eyes,
like my poor mother's, and long silken ringlets of sunny hair which
curled naturally upon her snow-white shoulders. She was tall and
stately for her age, and might have been a princess, for the noble
dignity of her carriage would not have disgraced a court.

"She was all life and spirit. The first in every sport, the last to
yield to fatigue or satiety. Her passions were warm and headstrong; her
temper irritable; her affections intense and constant, and her manners
so frank and winning that while conscious that she had a thousand
faults, you could but admire and love her.

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