Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works

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Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works Page 55

by Charlotte Smith


  ‘My brother, who had always loved me extremely, tho’ we had been very little together, took up his abode at my house while he staid in England. Trelawny seemed to feel a sort of awe before him, which made him endeavour to hide his vices if not his weakness, while he remained with us. He was more attentive to me than he had long been. My brother hoped I was happy; and tho’ Trelawny was a man whose conversation afforded him no pleasure, he behaved to him with every appearance of friendship and regard. He was soon however to return to his regiment; and my father, who had been in a declining state of health ever since his second marriage, appeared to grow worse as the period of separation approached. He seemed to have waited only for this beloved son to close his eyes; for a few days before he was again to take leave, my father found his end very rapidly approaching.

  ‘Perfectly conscious of it, he settled all his affairs; and made a provision for me and my brother William out of the money of the present Lady Westhaven, which the marriage articles gave him a right to dispose of after her Ladyship’s death if he left no children by her; and recommended us both to his eldest son.

  ‘“You will act nobly by our dear William,” said he; “I have no doubt of it; but above all, remember my poor Adelina. Camilla is happily married. Tell her I die blessing her, and her children! But Adelina — my unfortunate Adelina is herself but a child, and her husband is very young and thoughtless. Watch over her honour and her repose, for the sake of your father and that dear woman she so much resembles, your sainted mother.”

  ‘I was in the room, in an agony of sorrow. He called me to him. “My daughter,” said he, in a feeble voice, “remember that the honour of your family — of your brothers — is in your hands — and remember it is sacred. — Endeavour to deserve the happiness of being sister to such brothers, and daughter to such a mother as yours was!”

  ‘I was unable to answer. I could only kiss his convulsed hands; which I eagerly did, as if to tell him that I promised all he expected of me. My own heart, which then made the vow, now perpetually reproaches me with having kept it so ill!

  ‘A few hours afterwards, my father died. My brother, unable to announce to me the melancholy tidings, took my hand in silence, and led me out of the house, which was now Lady Westhaven’s. He had only a few days to stay in England, which he employed in paying the last mournful duties to his father; and then embarked again for America, leaving his affairs to be settled by my sister’s husband, Lord Clancarryl, to whom he wrote to come over from Ireland; for my brother William was now stationed in the West Indies, where he obtained the command of a man of war; and my brother Westhaven knew, that to leave any material business to Trelawny, was to leave it to ignorance and imbecility.

  ‘In my husband, I had neither a friend or a companion — I had not even a protector; for except when he was under the restraint of my brother’s presence, he was hardly ever at home. Sometimes he was gone on tours to distant counties to attend races or hunts, to which he belonged; and sometimes to France, where he was embarked in gaming associations with Englishmen who lived only to disgrace their name. Left to pass my life as the wife of such a man as Trelawny, I felt my brother’s departure as the deprivation of all I loved. But the arrival of my sister and her husband relieved me. I had not seen them for some years; and was delighted to meet my sister happy with a man so worthy and respectable as Lord Clancarryl.

  ‘He took possession on behalf of my brother of the estate my aunt was now obliged to resign; and as my sister was impatient to return to Ireland, where she had left her children, they pressed me extremely to go thither with them. Trelawny was gone out on one of his rambles; but I wrote to him and obtained his consent — indeed he long since ceased to trouble himself about me.

  ‘I attended my sister therefore to Lough Carryl; on the beautiful banks of which her Lord had built an house, which possessing as much magnificence as was proper to their rank, was yet contrived with an attention to all the comforts of domestic retirement. Here Lady Clancarryl chose to reside the whole year; and my Lord never left it but to attend the business of Parliament at Dublin.

  ‘His tender attention to his wife; his ardent, yet regulated fondness for his children; the peace and order which reigned in his house; the delightful and easy society he sometimes collected in it, and the chearful confidence we enjoyed in quiet family parties when without company; made me feel with bitterness and regret the difference between my sister’s lot and mine. Her husband made it the whole business of his life to fulfill every duty of his rank, mine seemed only solicitous to degrade himself below his. One was improving his fortune by well regulated œconomy; the other dissipating his among gamesters and pick-pockets. The conversation of Lord Clancarryl was sensible, refined, and improving; Trelawny’s consisted either in tiresome details of adventures among jockies, pedigrees of horses, or scandalous and silly anecdotes about persons of whom nobody wished to hear; or he sunk into sullen silence, yawned, and shewed how very little relish he had for any other discourse.

  ‘When I married him, I knew not to what I had condemned myself. As his character gradually discovered itself, my reason also encreased; and now, when I had an opportunity of comparing him to such a man as Lord Clancarryl, I felt all the horrors of my destiny! and beheld, with a dread from which my feeble heart recoiled, a long, long prospect of life before me — without attachment, without friendship, without love.

  ‘I remained two months in Ireland; and heard nothing of Trelawny, ‘till a match having been made on the Curragh of Kildare, on which he had a large bet depending, he came over to be present at it; and I heard with regret that I was to return with him. While he remained in Ireland, his disgusting manners, and continual intoxication, extremely displeased Lord Clancarryl; and I lived in perpetual uneasiness. A few days before we were to embark for England, George Fitz-Edward, his Lordship’s younger brother, came from the north of Ireland, where he had been with his regiment, to Lough Carryl; but it was only a passing visit to his family — he was going to England, and we were to sail in the same pacquet.’

  At the mention of George Fitz-Edward, Lady Adelina grew more distressed than she had yet been in the course of her narrative. Mrs. Stafford and Emmeline testified signs of surprize. She observed it; and asked if they knew him? Mrs. Stafford answered, they had some acquaintance with him; and Emmeline remarked that she either never heard or had forgotten that his father’s second title was Clancarryl.

  His very name seemed to affect Lady Adelina so much, and she appeared so exhausted by having spoken so long, that tho’ she told them she had but little to add to her mournful story, they insisted upon her permitting them to release her till the evening, when they would attend her again.

  CHAPTER XII

  They found Lady Adelina in better spirits in the evening than they had hoped for — She seemed to have been arguing herself into the composure necessary to go on with her story.

  ‘As you have some acquaintance with George Fitz-Edward, I need not describe his person or his manner; nor how decided a contrast they must form with those of such a man as him to whom I was unhappily united. This contrast, in spite of all my endeavours, was perpetually before my eyes — I thought Fitz-Edward, who was agreeable as his brother, had a heart as good; and my heart involuntarily made the comparison between what I was, and what I might have been, if my fate had reserved me for Fitz-Edward.

  ‘We embarked — It was about the autumnal equinox; and before we had sailed two leagues, the wind suddenly changing, blew from the opposite quarter, and then from every quarter by turns. As I was always subject to sickness in the cabin, I had lain down on the deck, on a piece of sail-cloth, and wrapped in my pelisse; and Fitz-Edward sat by me. But when the wind grew so violent that it was necessary every moment to shift the sails, I, who was totally insensible, was in the way of the sailors. Fitz-Edward carried me down in his arms; and having often heard me express an abhorrence to the close beds in the cabin, by the help of my own maid he accommodated me with one on the floor; whe
re he continued to watch over me, without attending to his own danger, tho’ he heard the master of the pacquet express his apprehensions that we should be driven back on the bar, and beat to pieces.

  ‘Trelawny, in whom self-preservation was generally alive, whatever became of his other feelings, had passed so jovial an evening before he departed, that he was perfectly unconscious of his own danger. After struggling some hours to return into the bay, it was with difficulty accomplished about five in the morning. Fitz-Edward, with the tenderest solicitude, saw me safe on shore, whither Trelawny was also brought. But far from being rejoiced at our narrow escape, he cursed his ill luck, which he said had raised this confounded storm only to prevent his returning in time to see Clytemnestra got into proper order for the October meeting.

  ‘I was so ill the next day, thro’ the fear and fatigue I had undergone, that I was absolutely unable to go on board. But nothing that related to me could detain Trelawny, who embarked again as soon as the pacquet was refitted, and after some grumbling at my being too ill to go, left me to follow him by the next conveyance, and recommended me with great coolness to the care of Fitz-Edward.

  ‘We staid only two days after him. Fitz-Edward, as well during the passage as on our journey to London, behaved to me with the tenderness of a brother; and I fancied my partiality concealed from him, because I tried to conceal it. If he saw it, he shewed no disposition to take advantage of it, and I therefore thought I might fearlessly indulge it.

  ‘When I arrived at my house in town, I found that Trelawny was absent, and had left a letter for me desiring me to go down to a house he had not long before purchased in Hampshire, as a hunting seat. Without enquiring his reasons, I obeyed him. I took a melancholy leave of Fitz-Edward, and went into Hampshire; where, as Trelawny was not there, I betook myself to my books, and I fear to thinking too much of Fitz-Edward.

  ‘After I had been there about a fortnight, I was surprized by a visit from the object of my indiscreet contemplations. He looked distressed and unhappy; and his first conversation seemed to be preparing me for some ill news. I was dreadfully alarmed, and enquired eagerly for my sister? — her husband? — her children? —

  ‘“I hope, and believe they are well,” answered he. “I have letters of a very late date from my brother.”

  ‘“Oh God!” cried I, in an agony (for his countenance still assured me something very bad had happened) “Lord Westhaven — my brother, my dear brother!” —

  ‘“Is well too, I hope — at least I assure you I know nothing to the contrary.”

  ‘“Is it news from Jamaica then? Has there been an engagement. There has, I know, and my brother William is killed.”

  ‘“No, upon my honour,” replied Fitz-Edward, “had Godolphin been killed, I, who love him better than any man breathing, could not have brought the intelligence — But my dear Lady Adelina, are there then no other misfortunes but those which arise from the death of friends?”

  ‘“None,” answered I, “but what I could very well bear. Tell me, therefore, I conjure you tell me, and keep me no longer in suspence — I can hear any thing since I have nothing to apprehend for the lives of those I love.”

  ‘“Well then,” answered he, “I will tell you. — I fear things are very bad with Mr. Trelawny. It is said that all the estate not entailed, is already gone; and that he has even sold his life interest in the rest. All his effects at the town house are seized; and I am afraid the same thing will in a few hours happen here. I came therefore, lovely Lady Adelina, to intreat you to put yourself under my protection, and to quit this house, where it will soon be so improper for you to remain.”

  ‘I enquired after the unhappy Trelawny? He told me he had left him intoxicated at a gaming house in St. James’s street; that he had told him he was coming down to me, to which he had consented, tho’ Fitz-Edward said he much doubted whether he knew what he was saying.

  ‘Fitz-Edward then advised me to pack up every thing I wished to preserve, and immediately to depart; for he feared that persons were already on the road to seize the furniture and effects in execution.

  ‘“Gracious heaven!” cried I, “what can I do? — Whither can I go!”

  ‘“Trust yourself with me,” cried Fitz-Edward— “dear, injured Lady Adelina.”

  ‘“Let me rather,” answered I, “go down to Trelawny Park.”

  ‘“Alas!” said he, “the same ruin will there overtake you. Be assured Mr. Trelawny’s creditors will equally attach his property there. You know too, that by the sale of his boroughs he has lost his seat in parliament, and that therefore his person will not be safe. He must himself go abroad.”

  ‘Doubting, and uncertain what I ought to do, I could determine on nothing. Fitz-Edward proposed my going to Mr. Percival’s, who had married one of his sisters. They are at Bath, said he; but the house and servants are at my disposal, and it is only five and twenty miles from hence. Hardly knowing what I did, I consented to this proposal; and taking my jewels and some valuable plate with me, I set out in a post chaise with Fitz-Edward, leaving my maid to follow me the next day, and give me an account whether our fears were verified.

  ‘They were but too well founded. Four hours after I had left the house, the sheriff’s officers entered it — Information which encreased my uneasiness for the fate of the unfortunate Trelawny; in hopes of alleviating whose miseries I would myself have gone to London, but Fitz-Edward would not suffer me. He said it was more than probable that my husband was already in France; that if he was yet in England, he had no house in which to receive me, and would feel more embarrassed than relieved by my presence. But as I continued to express great uneasiness to know what was become of him, he offered to go to London and bring me some certain intelligence.

  ‘At the end of a week, which appeared insupportably long, he returned, and told me that with some difficulty he had discovered my unhappy husband at the house of one of his friends, where he was concealed, and where he had lost at picquet more than half the ready money he could command. That with some difficulty he had convinced him of the danger as well as folly of remaining in such a place; and had accompanied him to Dover, whence he had seen him sail for France.

  ‘I told Fitz-Edward that I would instantly give up as much of my settlement as would enable Trelawny to live in affluence, till his affairs could be arranged; but he protested that he would not suffer me to take any measure of that sort, till I had the advice of his brother: or, till one of my own returned to England.

  ‘“Do you know,” said he, at the end of this conversation— “Do you know, Lady Adelina, that I envy Trelawny his misfortunes, since they excite such generous pity. — Good God! of what tenderness, of what affection would not such a heart be capable, if” ——

  ‘Fitz-Edward had seldom hazarded an observation of this sort, tho’ his eyes had told me a thousand times that he internally made them. He could convey into half a sentence more than others could express by the most elaborate speeches. Alas! I listened to him with too much pleasure; for my treacherous heart had already said more than his insidious eloquence.

  ‘I wrote to Lord Clancarryl, entreating him to come over. He assured me he would do so, the moment he could leave my sister, who was very near her time; but that in the interim his brother George would obey all my commands, and render me every service he could himself do if present.

  ‘Thrown, therefore, wholly into the power of Fitz-Edward; loving him but too well; and seeing him every hour busied in serving me — I will not accuse him of art; I had myself too little to hide from him the fatal secret of my heart; I could not summon resolution to fly from him, till my error was irretrievable — till I found myself made compleatly miserable by the consciousness of guilt.

  ‘After remaining there about a fortnight, I left the house of Mr. Percival, and took a small lodging in the neighbourhood of Cavendish-square. Fitz-Edward saw me every day. — I met him indeed with tears and confusion; but if any accident prevented his coming, or if he even absented himsel
f at my own request, the anguish I felt till I again saw him convinced me that it was no longer in my power to live without him.

  ‘Trelawny had given me no directions for my conduct; nor had he even written to me, ‘till he had occasion for money. He then desired me to send him five hundred guineas — a sum I had no immediate means of raising, but by selling some of my jewels. This I would immediately have done; but Fitz-Edward, who would not hear of it, brought me the money in a few hours, and undertook to remit it, together with a letter from me, to the unfortunate man for whom it was designed.

  ‘He tried too — ah, how vainly! — to persuade me, that in acting thus I had done more than my duty to such an husband. His sophistry, aided by my own wishes to believe him, could not quiet the incessant reproaches with which my conscience pursued me — I remembered my father’s dying injunctions, I remembered the inflexible notions of honour inherited by both my brothers, and I trembled at the severe account to which I might be called. I could now no longer flatter myself that my error would be concealed, since of its consequences I could not doubt; and while I suffered all the terrors of remorse and apprehension, Lord Clancarryl came over.

  ‘In order to take measures towards settling Trelawny’s affairs, it was necessary to send for his sister, who had a bond for five thousand pounds, which claim was prior to every other. This woman, whom it was extremely disagreeable to me to meet, lamented with vulgar clamour her brother’s misfortunes; which she said could never have happened if he had not been so unlucky as to get quality notions into his head. I know not what at first raised her suspicions; but I saw that she very narrowly observed Fitz-Edward; and sneeringly said that it was very lucky indeed for me to have such a friend, and quite kind in the colonel to take so much trouble. She made herself thoroughly acquainted with all that related to her brother, from the time of our parting in Ireland; and I found that she had attempted to bribe my servant to give her an account of my conduct; in which tho’ she had failed of success, she had found that Fitz-Edward had been constantly with me. His attendance was indeed less remarkable when Lord Clancarryl, his brother, was also present; but Mrs. Bancraft, determined to believe ill of me, suffered not this circumstance to have any weight, and hinted her suspicions of our attachment in terms so little guarded, that it was with the utmost difficulty I could prevail on Fitz-Edward not to resent her impertinence.

 

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