Baron Etienne Leon Lamothe Langon - "Memoirs of the Comtesse du Barry"

Cleveland Moffett - "The Conquest of America"

Gilbert K. Chesterton - "The Napoleon of Notting Hill"

by Alfred Russell Wallace - "The Malay Archipelago Volume 1"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Confession

W >> W. Gilmore Simms >> Confession




"Which is as much as to say that she don't enjoy comfort and
independence where she is; and if she does not, sir, to whom is it
all owing, sir, but to you and your father? By your means it is
that we are reduced to poverty; but you shall see, sir, that we
are not entirely wanting in independence. My answer, sir, is just
the same as Mr. Clifford's was. I am very much obliged to you for
THE HONOR you intend my family, but we must decline it. As for the
comfort and independence which you proffer to my daughter, I am
happy to inform you that she can receive it at any moment from a
source perhaps far more able than yourself to afford both, if her
perversity does not stand in the way, as it did when young Roberts
made his offers. Mr. Perkins, sir, the excellent young man that
you tried to murder, is to be here, sir, this very morning, to see
my daughter. Here's his letter, sir, which you may read, that you
may be under no apprehensions that my daughter will ever suffer
from a want of comfort and independence."

She flung a letter down on the sofa beside her, but I simply bowed,
and declined looking at it. I did not, however, yield the contest
in this manner. I urged all that might properly be urged on the
subject, and with as much earnestness as could be permitted in an
interview with a lady--and such a lady!--but, as the reader may
suppose, my toils were taken in vain: all that I could suggest,
either in the shape of reason or expostulation, only served to make
her more and more dogged, and to increase her tone of insolence;
and sore, stung with vexation, disappointed, and something more
than bewildered, I dashed almost headlong out of the house, without
seeing either Julia or her father, precisely at the moment when
Mr. Perkins was about to enter.






CHAPTER XI.

CRISIS.





The result of this interview of my rival with the mother of Julia,
was afforded me by the latter. The mother had already given her
consent to his suit--that of Julia alone was to be obtained; and
to this end the arts of the suitor and the mother were equally
devoted. Her refusal only brought with it new forms of persecution.
Her steps were haunted by the swain, to whom Mrs. Clifford gave
secret notice of all her daughter's intentions. He was her invariable
attendant at church, wheve I had the pain constantly to behold them,
in such close proximity, that I at length abandoned the customary
house of worship, and found my pew in another, where I could be
enabled to endure the forms of service without being oppresssd by
foreign and distracting thoughts and fancies.

Of the progress of the suit I had occasional intelligence from
Julia herself, whom I had, very reluctantly on her part, persuaded
to meet me at the house of a female relative and friend, who favored
our desires and managed our interviews. Brief were these stolen
moments, but oh, how blissful! The pleasures they afforded, however,
were almost wholly mine. The clandestine character of our meetings
served to deprive her of the joy which they otherwise might have
yielded; and the fear that she was not doing right, humbled her
spirit and made her tremble with frequent apprehensions.

At length Mrs. Clifford suspected our interviews, and detected
them. We had a most stormy scene on one occasion, when the sudden
entrance of this lady surprised us together, at the house of our
friend. The consequence of this was, a rupture between the ladies,
which resulted in Julia's being forbidden to visit the house of
her relative again. This measure was followed by others of such
precaution, that at length I could no longer communicate with her,
or even seek her, unless when she was on her way to church. Her
appearance then was such as to awaken all my apprehensions. Her
form, always slender, was become more so. The change was striking
in a single week. Her face, usually pale and delicate, was now
haggard. Her walk was feeble, and without elasticity. Her whole
appearance was wo-begone and utterly spiritless. Days and weeks
passed, and my heart was filled with hourly-increasing apprehensions.
I returned to the familiar church, but here I suffered a new alarm.
That sabbath the family pew was unoccupied. While I trembled lest
something serious had befallen her, I was called on by the family
physician. This gentleman had been always friendly. He had been
my father's physician, and had been his friend and frequent guest;
he knew my history, and sympathized with my fortunes. He now know
the history of Julia's affections. She had made him her confidante
so far, and he brought me a letter from her. She was sick, as I
expected. This letter was of startling tenor:--

"Save me, Edward, if you can. I am now willing to do as you proposed.
I can no longer endure these annoyances--these cruel persecutions!
My mother tells me that I must submit and marry this man, if we
would save ourselves from ruin. It seems he has a claim against
the estate for professional services; and as we have no other means
of payment, without the sale of all that is left, he is base enough
to insist upon my hand as the condition of his forbearance. He
uses threats now, since entreaties have failed him. Oh, Edward,
if you can save me, come!--for of a certainty, I can not bear this
persecution much long and live. I am now willing to consent to do
what Aunt Sophy recommended. Do not think me bold to say so, dear
Edward--if I am bold, it is despair which makes me so."

I read this letter with mingled feelings of indignation and
delight--indignation, because of the cruelties to which the worthless
mother and the base suitor subjected one so dear and innocent
delight, since the consent which she now yielded placed the means
of saving her at my control. The consent was to flight and clandestine
marriage, to which I had, with the assistance of our mutual friend,
endeavored to persuade her, in several instances, before.

The question now was, how to effect this object, since we had
no opportunities for communication; but, before I took any steps
in the matter, I made it a point of duty to deprive the infamous
attorney, Perkins, of his means of power over the unhappy family.
I determined to pay his legal charges; and William Edgerton, at
my request, readily undertook this part of the business. They were
found to be extortionate, and far beyond anything either warranted
by the practice or the fee bill. Edgerton counselled me to resist
the claim; but the subject was too delicate in all its relations,
and my own affair with Perkins would have made my active opposition
seem somewhat the consequence of malice and inveterate hostility.
I preferred to pay the excess, wnich was done by Edgerton, rather
than have any further dispute or difficulty with one whom I so
much despised. Complete satisfaction was entered upon the records
of the court, and a certified discharge, under the hand of Perkins
himself--which he gave with a reluctance full of mortification--was
sent in a blank envelope to Mrs. Clifford. She was thus deprived
of the only excuse--if, indeed, such a woman ever needs an excuse
for wilfulness--for persecuting her unhappy daughter on the score
of the attorney.

But the possession of this document effected no sort of change in
her conduct. She pursued her victim with the same old tenacity. It
was not to favor Perkins that she strove for this object: it was
to baffle ME. That blind heart, which misguides all of us in turn,
was predominant in her, and rendered her totally incapable of
seeing the cruel consequences to her daughter which her perseverance
threatened. Julia was now so feeble as scarcely to leave her
chamber; the physician was daily in attendance; and, though I could
not propose to make use of his services in promoting a design which
would subject him to the reproach of the grossest treachery, yet,
without counsel, he took it upon him plainly to assure the mother
that the disorder of her daughter arose solely from her mental
afflictions. He went farther. Mrs. Clifford, whose garrulity was
as notorious as her vanity and folly, herself took occasion, when
this was told her, to ascribe the effect to me; and, with her
own coloring, she continued, by going into a long history of our
"course of wooing." The doctor availed himself of these statements
to suggest the necessity of a compromise, assuring Mrs. Clifford
that I was really a more deserving person than she thought me, and,
in short, that some concessions must be made, if it was her hope
to save her daughter's life.

"She is naturally feeble of frame, nervous and sensitive, and these
excitements, pressing upon her, will break down her constitution
and her spirits together. Let me warn you, Mrs. Clifford, while yet
in season. Dismiss your prejudices against this young man, whether
well or ill founded, and permit your daughter to marry him. Suffer
me to assure you, Mrs. Clifford, that such an event will do more
toward her recovery than all my medicine."

"What, and see him the master of my house--he, the poor beggar-boy
that my husband fed in charity, and who turned from him with ingratitude
in his moment of difficulty, and left him to be despoiled by his
enemies? Never! never! Daughter of mine shall never be wife of his!
The serpent! to sting the hand of his benefactor!"

"My dear Mrs. Clifford, this prejudice of yours, besides being
totally unfounded, amounts to monomania. Now, I know something of
all these matters, as you should be aware; and I should be sorry to
counsel anything to you or to your family which would be either
disgraceful or injurious. So far from this young man being ungrateful,
neglectful, or suffering your husband to be preyed on by enemies,
I am of opinion that, if his counsel had been taken in this late
unhappy business, you would probably have been spared all of the
misery and nearly one half of the loss which has been incurred by
the refusal to do so."

"And so you, too, are against us, doctor? You, too, believe everything
that this young man tells you?"

"No, madam; I assure you, honestly, that I never heard a single
word from his lips in regard to this subject. It is spoken of by
everybody but himself."

"Ay! ay! the whole town knows it, and from who else but him, I
wonder? But you needn't to talk, doctor, on the subject. My mind's
made up. Edward Clifford, while I have breath to say 'No,' and a
hand to turn the lock of the door against him, shall never again
darken these doors!"

The physician was a man of too much experience to waste labor
upon a case so decidedly hopeless. He knew that no art within his
compass could cure so thorough a case of heart-blindness, and he
gave her up; but he did not give up Julia. He whispered words of
consolation into her ears, which, though vague, were yet far more
useful than physic.

"Cheer up, my daughter; be of good heart and faith. I AM SURE that
there will be some remedy provided for you, before long, which will
do you good. I have given the letter to your aunt, and she promises
to do as you wish."

It may be said, en passant, that the billet sent to me had been covered
in another to my female friend and Julia's relative; and that the
doctor, though not unconscious of the agency of this lady between
us, was yet guilty of no violation of the faith which is always
implied between the family and the physician. He might SUSPECT,
but he did not KNOW; and whatever might have been his suspicions,
he certainly did not have the most distant idea of that concession
which Julia had made, and of the course of conduct for which her
mother's persecutions had now prepared her mind.

Mr. Perkins, though deprived of his lien upon Mrs. Clifford, by
reason of his claim, did not in the least forego his intentions.
His complaints and threatenings necessarily ceased--his tone was
something lowered; but he possessed a hold upon this silly woman's
prejudices which was far superior to any which he might before have
had upon her fears. His hostility to me was grateful to the hate
which she also entertained, and which seemed to be more thoroughly
infixed in her after her downfall--which, as it has been seen, she
ascribed to me; chiefly because of my predictions that such would
be the case. In due proportion to her hate for me, was her desire
to baffle my wishes, even though it might be at the expense of her
own daughter's life. But a vain mother has no affections--none, at
least, worthy of the name, and none which she is not prepared to
discard at the first requisition of her dearer self. Her hate of
me was so extreme as to render her blind to everything besides--her
daughter's sickness, the counsel of the physician, the otherwise
obvious vulgarity and meanness of Perkins, and that gross injustice
which I had suffered at her hands from the beginning, and which, to
many minds, might have amply justified in me the hostile feelings
which she laid to my charge. In this blindness she precipitated
events, and by her cruelty justified extremities in self-defence.
The moment that Julia exhibited some slight improvement, she was
summoned to an interview with Perkins, and in this interview her
mother solemnly swore that she should marry him. The base-minded
suitor stood by in silence, beheld the loathing of the maiden,
heard her distinct refusal, yet clung to his victim, and permitted
the violence of the mother, without rebuke--that rebuke which the
true gentleman might have administered in such a case, and which,
to forbear, was the foulest shame--the rebuke of his own decided
refusal to participate in such a sacrifice. But he was not capable
of this; and Julia, stunned and terrified, was shocked to hear
Mrs. Clifford appoint the night of the following Thursday for the
forced nuptials.

"She will consent--she shall consent, Mr. Perkins," were the vehement
assurances of the mother, as the craven-spirited suitor prepared
to take his leave. "I know her better than you do, and she knows
me. Do you fear nothing, but bring Mr--" (the divine) "along with
you. We shall put an end to this folly."

"Oh, do not, do not, mother, if you would not drive me mad!" was
the exclamation of the destined victim, as she threw herself at the
feet of her unnatural parent. "You will kill me to wed this man!
I can not marry him--I can not love him. Why would you force this
matter upon me--why! why!"

"Why will you resist me, Julia? why will you provoke your mother
to this degree? You have only to consent willingly, and you know
how kind I am."

"I can not consent!" was the gasping decision of the maiden.

"You shall! you must! you will!"

"Never! never! On my knees I say it, mother. God will witness what
you refuse to believe. I will die before I consent to marry where
I do not give my heart."

"Oh, you talk of dying, as if it was a very easy matter. But you
won't die. It's more easy to say than do. Do you come, Mr. Perkins.
Don't you mind--don't you believe in these denials, and oaths,
and promises. It's the way with all young ladies. They all make a
mighty fuss when they're going to be married; hut they're all mighty
willing, if the truth was known. I ought to know something about
it. I did just the same as she when I was going to marry Mr.
Clifford; yet nobody was more willing than I was to get a husband.
Do you come and bring the parson; she'll sing a different tune when
she stands up before him, I warrant you."

"That shall never be, Mr. Perkins!" said the maiden solemnly,
and somewhat approaching the person whom she addressed. "I have
already more than once declined the honor you propose to do me.
I now repeat to you that I will sooner marry the grave and the
winding-sheet than be your wife! My mother mistakes me and all my
feelings. For your own sake, if not for mine, I beg that YOU will
not mistake them; for, if the strength is left me for speech, I
will declare aloud to the reverend man whom you are told to bring,
the nature of those persecutions to which you have been privy. I
will tell him of the cruelty which I have been compelled to endure,
and which you have beheld and encouraged with your silence."

Perkins looked aghast, muttered his unwillingness to prosecute
his suit under such circumstances, and prepared to take his leave.
His mutterings and apologies were all swallowed up in that furious
storm of abuse and denunciation which now poured from the lips
of the exemplary mother. These we need not repeat. Suffice it
that the deep feelings of Julia--her sense of propriety and good
taste--prevailed to keep her silent, while her mother, still raving,
renewed her assurances to the pettifogger that he should certainly
receive his wife at her hands on the evening of the ensuing Thursday.
The unmanly suitor accepted her assurances--and took leave of mother
and daughter, with the expression of a simpering hope, intended
chiefly for the latter, that her objections would resolve themselves
into the usual maidenly scruples when the appointed time should
arrive. Julia mustered strength enough to reply in language which
brought down another storm from her mother upon her devoted head.

"Do not deceive Perkins--do not let the assurances of my mother
deceive you. She does not know me. I can not and will not marry
you. I will sooner marry the grave--the winding-sheet--the worm!"

Her strength failed her the moment he left the apartment. She
sank in a fainting-fit upon the floor, and was thus saved from
hearing the bitter abuse which her miserable and misguided parent
continued to lavish upon her, even while undertaking the task of
her restoration. The evident exhaustion of her frame, her increasing
feebleness, the agony of her mind, and the possibly fatal termination
of her indisposition, did not in the least serve to modify the
violent and vexing mood of this most unnatural woman!






CHAPTER XII.

"GONE TO BE MARRIED."





These proceedings, the tenor of which was briefly communicated
to me in a hurried note from Julia, despatched by the hands of
the physician, under a cover, to the friendly aunt, rendered it
imperatively necessary that, whatever we proposed to do should be
done quickly, if we entertained any hope to save.

The tone of her epistle alarmed me exceedingly in one respect, as
it evidently showed that she could not much longer save herself. Her
courage was sinking with her spirits, which were yielding rapidly
beneath the continued presence of that persecution which had
so long been acting upon her. She began now to distrust her own
strength--her very powers of utterance to declare her aversion to
the proposed marriage, if ever the trial was brought to the threatened
issue before the holy man.

"What am I to do--what say--" demanded her trembling epistle,
"should they go so far? Am I to declare the truth?--can I tell to
strange ears that it is my mother who forces this cruel sacrifice
upon me? I dread I can not. I fear that my soul and voice will
equally fail me. I tremble, dear Edward, when I think that the awful
moment may find me speechless, and my consent may be assumed from
my silence. Save me from this trial, dearest Edward; for I fear
everything now--and fear myself--my unhappy weakness of nerve and
spirit more than all. Do not leave me to this trial of my strength--for
I have none. Save me if you can!"

It may be readily believed that I needed little soliciting to
exertion after this. The words of this letter occasioned an alarm
in my mind, little less--though of a different kind--than that which
prevailed in hers. I knew the weakness of hers--I knew hers--and
felt the apprehension that she might fail at the proper moment,
even more vividly than she expressed it.

This letter did not take me by surprise. Before it was received,
and soon after the first with which she had favored me, by the
hands of the friendly physician, I had begun my preparations with
the view to our clandestine marriage. I was only now required to
quicken them. The obstacle, on the face of it, was, comparatively, a
small one. To get her from a dwelling, in which, though her steps
were watched, she was not exactly a prisoner, was scarcely a
difficulty, where the lover and the lady are equally willing.

Our mode of operations was simple. There was a favorite servant--a
negro--who had been raised in the family, had been a playmate
with my poor deceased cousin and myself, and had always been held
in particular regard by both of us. He was not what is called
a house-servant, but was employed in the yard in doing various
offices, such as cutting wood, tending the garden, going of messages,
and so forth. This was in the better days of the Clifford family.
Since its downfall he had been instructed to look an owner, and,
opportunely, at this moment, when I was deliberating upon the
process I should adopt for the extrication of his young mistress,
he came to me to request that I would buy him. The presence of this
servant suggested to me that he could assist me materially in my
plans. Without suffering him to know the intention which I had
formed I listened to his garrulous harangue. A negro is usually very
copious, where he has an auditor; and though, from his situation,
he could directly see nothing of the proceedings in the house of
his owner, yet, from his fellow-servants he had contrived to gather,
perhaps, a very correct account of the general condition of things.
It appeared from his story that the attachment of Miss Julia to
myself was very commonly understood. The effort of the mother to
persuade her to marry Perkins was also known to him; but of the
arrangement that the marriage should take place at the early day
mentioned in her note, he told me nothing, and, in all probability,
this part of her proceedings was kept a close secret by the wily
dame Peter--the name of the negro--went on to add, that, loving
me, and loving his young mistress, and knowing that we loved one
another, and believing that we should one day be married, he was
anxious to have me for his future owner.

"I will buy you, Peter, on one condition."

"Wha's dat, Mas' Ned?"

"That you serve me faithfully on trial, for five days, without
letting anybody know who you serve--that you carry my messages
without letting anybody hear them except that person to whom you
are sent--and, if I give you a note to carry, that you carry it
safely, not only without suffering anybody to see the note but the
one to whom I send it, but without suffering anybody to know or
suspect that you've got such a thing as a note about you."

The fellow was all promises; and I penned a billet to Julia which,
in few words, briefly prepared her to expect my attendance at her
house at three in the afternoon of the very day when her nuptials
were contemplated. I then proceeded to a friend--Kingsley--the friend
who had served me in the meeting with Perkins; a bold, dashing,
frank fellow, who loved nothing better than a frolic which worried
one of the parties; and who, I well knew, would relish nothing more
than to baffle Perkins in a love affair, as we had already done in
one of strife. To him I unfolded my plan and craved his assistance,
which was promised instantly. My female friend, the relative of
Julia, whose assistance had been already given us, and whose quarrel
with Mrs. Clifford in consequence, had spiced her determination to
annoy her still further whenever occasion offered, was advised of
our plans; and William Edgerton readily undertook what seemed to
be the most innocent part of all, to procure a priest to officiate
for us, at the house of the lady in question, and at the appointed
time.

My new retainer, Peter, brought me due intelligence of the delivery
of the note, in secret, to Julia, and a verbal answer from her
made me sanguine of success. The day came, and the hour; and in
obedience to our plan, my friend, Kingsley, proceeded boldly to the
dwelling of Mrs. Clifford, just as that lady had taken her seat at
the dinner-table, requesting to see and speak with her on business
of importance. The interview was vouchsafed him, though not until
the worthy lady had instructed the servant to say that she was
just then at the dinner-table, and would be glad if the gentleman
would call again.

But the gentleman regretted that he could not call again. He was
from Kentucky, desirous of buying slaves, and must leave town the
next morning for the west. The mention of his, occupation, as Mrs.
Clifford had slaves to sell, was sufficient to persuade her to lay
down the knife and fork with promptness; and the servant was bade
to show the Kentucky gentleman, into the parlor. Our arrangement
was, that, with the departure of the lady from the table Julia should
leave it also--descend the stairs, and meet me at the entrance.

Trembling almost to fainting, the poor girl came to me, and I
received her into my arms, with something of a tremor also. I felt
the prize would be one that I should be very loath to lose; and
joy led to anxiety, and my anxiety rendered me nervous to a womanly
degree. But I did not lose my composure and when I had taken her
into my arms, I thought it would be only a prudent precaution to
turn the key in the outer dour, and leave it somewhere along the
highway. This I did, absolutely forgetting, that, in thus securing
myself against any sudden pursuit, I had also locked up my friend,
the Kentucky trader.

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.