Alida Part 5

The nodding plumes, like waving pines, Are shaken by the morning breeze; The gilded armour brightly s.h.i.+nes, And patriots sigh for victories.

The tumults of a second war with Great Britain still increased, and was not only exhausting the finances of the country, but called for a still greater sacrifice--all the bravest American youth. A large army of reinforcements was shortly expected from England to land on our sh.o.r.es, and the confused noise of the warriors, with more vigorous and intrepid combat, were already antic.i.p.ated.

Theodore had received a commission in a regiment of militia, and was pressed by several young gentlemen of his acquaintance, who had enlisted in the army, to join it also. He had an excuse: his father was a man in extensive business, was considerably past the prime of life, had a number of agents and clerks under him, but began to feel himself unable to attend to the various and burthensome duties and demands of a mercantile life. Theodore was his only son; his a.s.sistance, therefore, became necessary, until, at least, his father could bring his business to a close, which he was now about to effect.

Theodore stated these facts to his friends; told them that on every occasion he should be ready to fly to the post of danger when his country was invaded, and that as soon as his father's affairs became settled, he would, if necessary, join the army.

The president was now active in making every exertion in his power, to rouse the feelings of his countrymen to act their parts with honour in the scene that was now before them. He knew that much of the responsibility rested on himself. The capacity he was in with regard to the nation, caused the most material and important business--of directing and superintending the weighty affairs of government--to fall upon his hands; and such was the situation of the country, that it not only called for the exertion, the wisdom, sound judgment, and policy of the presidential chair, but likewise of every patriotic bosom to partic.i.p.ate in their endeavours to oppose the depredations against it.

The chief executive was entered on a theatre in which he was to act a conspicuous part in this war of America with Great Britain, and to occupy a station in the page of history, where the interesting detail will reach the ear of remotest ages in the dates of time.

In the mean time, the father of Theodore had been absent for three or four days to one of the commercial seaports, on business with some merchants with whom he was connected in trade. He returned the next day after Theodore had got home; his aspect and his conversation were marked with an a.s.sumed and unmeaning cheerfulness. At supper he ate nothing, discoursed much, but in an unconnected and hurried manner, interrupted by long pauses, in which he appeared to be buried in contemplation.

After supper he asked Theodore "if it were not possible that his union with Alida could be concluded within a few days?" Theodore, startled at so unexpected a question, replied, that such a proposal would be considered extraordinary, perhaps improper; besides, when Alida had named the day, she mentioned that she had an uncle who lived at a distance, whose daughter was to pa.s.s the summer with her, and was expected to arrive before the appointed time. It would, he said, be a delicate thing for him to antic.i.p.ate the nuptials, unless he could give some cogent reason for so doing, and at present he was not apprised that any such existed. His father, after a few moments' hesitation, answered, "I have reasons which, when told,"--here he stopped, suddenly arose, hastily walked the room in much visible agony of mind, and then retired to his chamber.

Theodore and his mother were much amazed at so strange a proceeding.

They could form no conjecture of its cause, or its consequence. Theodore pa.s.sed a sleepless night. His father's slumbers were interrupted; he was restless and uneasy: his sleep was broken and disturbed by incoherent mutterings and plaintive moans. In the morning when he appeared at breakfast, his countenance wore the marks of dejection and anguish. He scarcely spoke a word; and after the cloth was removed, he ordered all to withdraw except Theodore and his mother; when, with emotions that spoke the painful feelings of his bosom, he thus addressed them:

"For more than thirty years I have been engaged in commerce, in order to acquire independence for myself and my family. To accomplish this, I became connected with some English importing merchants, in a seaport town, and went largely into the English trade. Success crowned our endeavours. On balancing our accounts, two years ago, we found that our expectations were answered, and that we were sufficiently wealthy to close business, which some proposed to do; it was, however, agreed to make one effort more, as some favourable circ.u.mstances appeared to offer, in which we adventured very largely, on a fair calculation of liberal and extensive proceeds. Before returns could be made, the war came on, embarra.s.sments ensued, and by indubitable intelligence lately received, we find that our property in England has been sequestered; five of our s.h.i.+ps, laden with English goods, lying in English harbours, and just ready to sail for America, have been seized as lawful prizes; added to this, three vessels from the Indies, laden with island produce, have been taken on their homeward bound voyage, and one lost on her return from Holland.

"This wreck of fortune I might have survived, had I to sustain only my equal dividend of the loss; but of the merchants with whom I have been connected, not one remains to share the fate of the event--all have absconded or secreted themselves. To attempt to compound with my creditors would be of little avail, so that the consequence to me is inevitable ruin.

"To abscond would not secure me, as most of my remaining property is vested in real estate; and even if it would, I could not consent to it.

I could not consent to banish myself from my country, with the view to defraud my creditors. No: I have lived honestly, and honestly will I die. By fair application and industry my wealth has been obtained, and it shall never justly be said that the reputation of my latter days were sullied with acts of meanness. I have notified and procured a meeting of the creditors, and have laid the matter before them. Some appeared favourable to me, others insinuated that we were all connected in fraudulent designs to swindle our creditors. To this I replied with becoming spirit, and was in consequence threatened with immediate prosecution. Whatever may be the event, I had some hopes that your happiness, Theodore, might yet be secured. Hence I proposed your union with Alida before our misfortunes should be promulgated. Your parents are old, a little will serve the residue of their days. With your acquirements you may make your way in life. I shall now have no property to give you; but I would still wish you to ensure to yourself that which you prize far above, and without which, both honours and emoluments would be unimportant and worthless."

At this moment a loud rap at the door interrupted the discourse, and three men were ushered in, which proved to be the sheriff and his attendants, sent by the more inexorable creditors of Theodore's father and company, to levy on the property of the former, which orders they faithfully executed by seizing the lands, tenements, and furniture. We will not stop the reader to moralize on this disastrous event--the feelings of the family can better be conceived than described.

Hurled, in a moment, from the lofty summit of affluence to the low vale of indigence, Christian philosophy after a while came to the aid of the parents, but who can realize the feelings of the son? Thus suddenly cut short, not only of his prospects of future independence, but even present support, what would be the event of his suit to Alida, and stipulated marriage? Was it not probable that her father would now cancel the contract? Could she consent to become his in his present penurious situation? and could he himself be willing to make her miserable?

In this agitated frame of mind he received a letter from a friend in the neighbourhood of Alida, requesting him to come immediately to his house, whither he repaired the following day.

This person had ever been the unchanging friend of Theodore; he had heard of the misfortunes of his family, and he deeply sympathized in his distress. He had lately married and settled near the residence of Alida's father. His name was Raymond. When Theodore arrived at the house of his friend, he was received with the same disinterested ardour he had ever been before, in the day of his most unbounded prosperity. After being seated, Raymond told him the occasion of his sending for him was to propose the adoption of certain measures which he doubted not might be considered highly beneficial, as it respected his future peace and happiness. "Your family misfortunes," continued he, "have reached the ear of Alida's father. I know old people, generally speaking, too well to believe he will now consent to receive you as his son-in-law under your present embarra.s.sments. The case is difficult, but not insurmountable. You must first see Alida; she is now in the next room; I will introduce you in; converse with her, after which I will lay my plan before you."

Theodore entered the room. Alida was sitting by a window which looked into a pleasant garden, and over verdant meadows where tall gra.s.s waved to the evening breeze; further on, low valleys spread their umbrageous thickets where the dusky shadows of night had began to a.s.semble. On the high hills beyond, the tops of lofty forests, majestically moved by the billowy gales, caught the sun's last ray. Fleecy summer clouds hovered around the verge of the western horizon, spangled with silvery tints or fringed with the gold of evening. A mournfully murmuring rivulet purled at a little distance from the garden, on the borders of a small grove, from whence the American wild dove wafted her sympathetic moaning to the ear of Alida. She was leaning on a small table as she sat by the window, which was thrown up. Her attention was fixed. She did not perceive Raymond and Theodore as they entered. They advanced towards her; she turned, started, and arose. With a melancholy smile she said she supposed it was Mrs. Raymond who was approaching, as she had just left the room. Her countenance was dejected, which, on seeing Theodore, lighted up into a languid sprightliness. It was evident she had been weeping. Raymond retired, and Theodore and Alida seated themselves.

"I have broken in upon your solitude, perhaps too unseasonably," said Theodore. It is however the fault of Raymond; he invited me to walk into the room, but did not inform me that you were alone.

"Your presence was sudden and unexpected, but not unseasonable," replied Alida. I hope that you did not consider any formality necessary in your visits, Theodore?

"I once did not think so," answered Theodore; now I know not what to think--I know not how to act. You have heard of the misfortunes of my father's family, Alida?

"Yes, I have heard the circ.u.mstances attending that event," said she; an event in which no one could be more deeply interested, except the immediate sufferers, than myself.

"Your father is also acquainted with my present situation," said Theodore; and how did he receive the intelligence?

"With deep regret," replied Alida.

Has he forbidden you to admit my addresses any longer? if even in an unqualified or indirect manner, it is proper I should know it.

"It certainly is," said Alida. Soon after we received the intelligence of your family misfortunes, my father came into the room where I was sitting: 'Alida,' said he, 'your conduct has ever been that of a dutiful child,--mine, of an indulgent parent. My ultimate wish is to see my children, when settled in life, happy and honourably respected. For this purpose I have bestowed on them a proper education, and design suitably to apportion my property among them. On their part, it is expected they will act prudently and discreetly, especially in those things which concern materially their future peace and welfare: the princ.i.p.al requisite to insure this is a proper connexion in marriage.' Here my father paused a considerable time, and then continued: 'I know, my child, that your situation is a very delicate one. Your marriage-day is appointed; it was named under the fairest prospects. By the failure of Theodore's father, those prospects have become deeply darkened, if not totally obliterated. To commit your fortune through life to a person in his present circ.u.mstances, would be hazardous in the extreme. The day named can at least be suspended; perhaps something more favourable may appear. At any rate, I have too much confidence in your discretion to suppose that you will, by any rash act, bring reproach either upon yourself or your connexions.' Thus spake my father, and immediately withdrew.

"In our present dilemma," said Theodore, "what is proper to be done?"

"It is difficult to determine," answered Alida. "Should my father expressly forbid our union, or to see each other at present, it is probable he will carry his commands into effect. I would advise you to call on him to-morrow with your usual freedom. Whatever may be the event, I shall deal sincerely with you. Mrs. Raymond has been my friend and a.s.sociate from my earliest years--Raymond you know. In them we can place the utmost confidence. From them you will be enabled to obtain information should I be prevented from seeing you. My reliance on Providence, I trust, will never be shaken, but my future prospects, at present, are dark and gloomy."

"Let us not despair," said Theodore; "perhaps those gloomy clouds which now hover around us, may yet be dissipated by the bright beams of joy.

Worth and innocence are the care of Heaven,--there rests my hope.

To-morrow, as you propose, I will call at your father's. If I should be debarred in future from seeing you, I will write as formerly, and direct the letters to Raymond."

Alida now returned home, attended by Theodore. A whip-poor-will tuned its nightly song at a distance; but the sound which had so late appeared to them cheerful and sprightly, now pa.s.sed heavily over their hearts.

CHAPTER XII.

"O, happiness, deceitful in thy dream,"

Though wreaths all blooming hang upon thy brow, And quick dissolves the visionary gleam, Succeeded soon by various scenes of wo.

When Theodore returned to the house of his friend, he unfolded the plan he had projected.

"No sooner," said Raymond, "was I informed of your misfortunes, than I was convinced that Alida's father (whom I have known for many years) would endeavour to dissolve your intended union with his daughter. And however he may doat on his children, or value their happiness, he will not hesitate to sacrifice his better feelings to the accomplishment of his wishes to see them independent. It appears that you have but one resource left. You and Alida are now engaged by the most solemn ties, by every rite except those which are ceremonial; these I would advise you to enter into, and trust to the consequences. Mrs. Raymond has proposed the scheme to Alida, but implicitly accustomed to filial obedience, she shudders at the idea of a clandestine marriage; but when her father will proceed to rigorous measures, she will, I think, consent to the alternative. The world is before you, Theodore," continued he; "you have friends, you have acquirements which will not fail you. In a country like this you can scarcely help obtaining a competency, which, with the other requisites you have in your power, will not fail to insure your independence and felicity."

"But the times have changed," said Theodore, since the commencement of the war, and probably I may yet have to join the army. After I have made my visit on the morrow to Alida's father, we will discourse further on the subject.

In the meantime, Theodore proceeded on the morrow, to make his intended visit. As he approached the house, he saw Alida sitting in a shady recess at one end of the garden, near which the road pa.s.sed. She was leaning with her head upon her hand in a pensive posture; a deep dejection was depicted upon her features, which enlivened into a transient glow as soon as she saw Theodore. She arose, met him, and invited him into the house.

Theodore was received with a cool reserve by all except Alida. Her father saluted him with a distant retiring bow, as he pa.s.sed with her to the parlour. As soon as they were seated, a lady who had lately come to reside some time in the family, (who was a relative of her father's,) entered the room and seated herself by the window, alternately humming a tune and staring at Theodore, without speaking a word.

This interruption was not of long continuance. Alida's father entered, and requested the two ladies to withdraw, which was instantly done; he then addressed Theodore as follows:

"When I gave consent for your union with my daughter, it was on the conviction that your future resources would be adequate to support her honourably and independently. Circ.u.mstances have since taken place which render this point extremely doubtful." He paused for a reply, but Theodore was silent. He continued, "You, perhaps, may say that your acquirements, your prudence, and your industry, will procure you a handsome income; but to depend on these altogether for your future exigencies is hazarding peace, honour, and reputation, at a single game of chance. If, therefore, you have no resources or expectations but such as these, your own judgment will teach you the necessity of immediately relinquis.h.i.+ng all pretensions to the hand of Alida, and from this time to break off all communication with my daughter." He then immediately left the room.

Why was Theodore speechless through the whole of this discourse? What reply could he have made? What were the prospects before him but misery and wo? Where, indeed, were the means by which Alida was to be s.h.i.+elded from indigence, if connected with his fortunes?

The idea was not new, but it came upon him at this time with redoubled anguish. He arose and looked around for Alida, but she was not to be seen. He left the house and walked slowly towards Raymond's. At a little distance he met Alida who had been strolling in an adjoining avenue. He informed her of all that had pa.s.sed; it was no more than they both expected, yet it was a shock their fort.i.tude could scarcely sustain.

Disappointment seldom finds her votaries prepared to receive her.

Alida told Theodore that she knew her father's determinations were altogether unchangeable at present. Her brother, she said, would be at home in a few days; how he would act on this occasion, she was unable to say; but were he ever so far their friend, he would have but feeble influence with her father. "What is to be the end of these troubles,"

continued she, it is impossible to foresee. Let us trust in the mercy of Heaven, and submit to its dispensations.

Theodore and Alida, in their happier days, had, when absent from each other, corresponded. This method it was now thought best to resume. It was agreed, besides, that Theodore should frequently visit Raymond's, and Alida would resort there also, as she should find opportunity.

Having concluded on this, Alida returned home, and Theodore to the house of his friend.

The next morning Theodore repaired to the dwelling where his aged parents now resided. His bosom throbbed with keen anguish when he arrived there: his own fate unconnected with that of Alida. His father was absent when he first reached home, but returned soon after. A beam of joy gleamed upon his countenance as he entered the house. "Were it not, Theodore, for your unhappy situation," said he, "we should once more be restored to peace and happiness. A few persons who were indebted to me, finding that I was to be sacrificed by my unfeeling creditors, reserved those debts in their hands, and have now paid me, amounting to something more than five thousand pounds. With this I can live as well and conveniently as I could wish, and can spare some for your present exigencies, Theodore."

Theodore thanked his father for his kindness, but told him that from his former liberality, he had yet sufficient for all his wants. "But your affair with Alida," asked his father, "how is that likely to terminate?"

"Favourably, I hope, sir," answered Theodore.