Charlotte Smith- Collected Poetical Works

by Charlotte Smith

  “Perhaps, if your residence in England was in the west, you may have heard of the family of Walsingham — I am of that family.......It is not necessary to relate to you, Madam, the particular circumstances of a life which has had nothing uncommon in it, unless it be that I lost, at an early period, the person with whom I hoped to have passed it in as much happiness as mutual affection and a coincidence of disposition could promise. — From that time, the death of my elder brother having made the pursuit of the profession to which I was brought up unnecessary, I have wandered over the world, with the hope of finding, in change of place, a temporary relief for the wounds which no time can cure; and I have succeeded so far, as to take some interest in the objects which nature, or art, present to the traveller, particularly in Italy: as I had before visited almost every part of it, except Malta and Calabria ultra, and found that my spirits once more required change of place, I left England about two months since for Leghorn, from thence I got a passage to Malta, and having a curiosity to visit that part of Calabria immediately opposite the coast of Sicily, which had been so lately the scene of one of the most tremendous convulsions of Nature on record, I embarked in a Maltese galley, commanded by the Chevalier de Montagny, a French Knight of Malta, with whom I had been fortunate enough to make an acquaintance; and we designed to have extended our cruize to the Gulph of Manfredonia, but having seen an Algerine or Turkish xebec, which the Chevalier had reason to believe was hovering about the coast with piratical intentions, he determined to attempt taking it. We were in chase for many hours; after which, the Chevalier casting anchor about a mile from hence, I inquired, as I usually do, what there was worth landing to see? — and with some difficulty discovered, that we were near the ancient port of Formiscusa, where there were a few fine remnants of Roman buildings, and where I might very probably find coins, or small pieces of sculpture. My friend de Montagny, whose intention it was to watch the xebec, which, he believed, intended to return, assured me, that I might come on shore and satisfy my curiosity without any danger of his leaving me behind. I availed myself, therefore, of occasion, and had been purchasing some antiquities, of little value to them, among the peasants of the village, when, surveying that spot where there are evidently the ruins of a temple, I was surprised to observe a lady, whom I immediately saw was very unlike the inhabitants of the surrounding country, and who, on my nearer approach, I heard speak in accents which confirmed by first idea of her being an Englishwoman.......Ah! Madam, how happy shall I esteem myself, if, in the accidental indulgence of that curiosity, where the highest gratification it can afford, is but a very transient relief to a mind incurably hurt, I should prove the means of being essentially useful to a young lady — who — I am ill at expressing what I feel, and know that you are, that you must be, superior to common-place compliments: yet I cannot refrain from saying, that, as being of the same country, you have on that score a right to my best services, though, that were you of any other, one need only behold you to be convinced that you must command the most respectful homage of every man.”

  Rosalie, who had rather the latter part of this speech had been spared, now hesitated, blushed, and attempted to speak, but she failed; and Walsingham, who saw her embarrassment, and appeared perfectly to understand it, resumed his discourse.

  “Unless I know more of your situation, than, on so short an acquaintance, you may think it proper to entrust me with, I cannot venture to advise; but I can, with great truth, assure you, that if you will venture to put yourself under my care, I shall think it the most fortunate circumstance of my life, to be allowed to conduct you from hence, in whatever manner you think consistent with safety or propriety, and to whatever place you shall point out. I will not leave you till you are secure in the protection of some of your friends, and I will attend you either to any part of the continent, or to England.”

  Rosalie, now confirmed in her resolution to depart, looked as it she would express her thanks, when Walsingham, who appeared already to have acquired the art of reading her thoughts, said, “And do not, I beseech you, Madam, imagine that, by my undertaking this, you will be under the least obligation to me: far otherwise, believe me — for you will confer the greatest to possible obligations on a man, to whom life has no longer any value, but what he can derive from being serviceable to others.”

  Rosalie now thought herself perfectly justified in accepting an offer which threatened no inconvenience to the stranger, while it promised to restore her to liberty, and, perhaps, to felicity. Dismissing then all the objections, which still attempted to obtrude themselves on her mind, she entered into a discussion of the best means of escaping from a place, where the few precautions, that were taken to secure her stay, arose merely from the supposed impracticability of her flight.

  After a long conversation it was agreed, that however desirable it might be for her to go by land, yet she would incur great risk of being pursued, and in such roads must inevitably be overtaken. — Nothing therefore remained but for her to accept what Mr. Walsingham very earnestly offered, in the name of his friend the Chevalier de Montagny, a conveyance in the Maltese galley to any port from whence it was possible a passage to England could be the most quickly obtained; Walsingham assuring her that the vessel and its commander would be entirely at her orders.

  This point being settled, it was next to be considered how and when she could leave her prison with the least probability of detection. This was not difficult; but aware, from past experience, of the many inconveniences which must be encountered at sea, it was necessary that what baggage she had should go with her, she reminded Walsingham that she could not convey this herself, nor could she even carry it from her room to the lower part of the house, without hazarding a discovery. After a moment’s consideration he obviated this objection, by telling her, that as, from her description, the castle was very large, and that there were only two servants and a peasant who slept there, nothing was more easy than to introduce a sailor, or more, if more were requisite, who would probably be able to pass through the house unnoticed, and convey away whatever she wished to have with her. He added, “and I will come with them myself to prevent all accidents from rashness or blunders. There is a moon, about two o’clock, which will afford us light enough; it is an hour when your keepers will be asleep, and there can be no difficulty in your then leaving a house so slightly guarded.”

  Rosalie now recollected that there was a very material one — that of the doors being always shut of a night with great circumspection, at least so she imagined, because she had frequently heard Cattina, after she had left her of a night, go round all that part of the building adjoining the great staircase, up which the distant noise of shutting and barring the massive doors sounded in sullen echoes. She had often listened, after all had been still, for some moments, and believed that she heard the same precautions taken in the more remote parts of the edifice; parts, indeed, where she had never been.

  When she communicated this to Mr. Walsingham, be became impatient.— “If the doors are not easily opened, (cried he), we will cut them down; any, rather batter them with three or four eight pounders, from our galley, than fail.” — Rosalie turned pale at the very mention of any expedient of this kind. — Ah, no! (said she); if my escape cannot be effected without the hazard of shedding blood, I must resign myself to my deplorable destiny — for I had rather perish here than be the cause of one man’s death.

  Ah! Sir, you do not consider, that, by the least alarm given from the castle, the village below, as well as another higher up the country, would, in an instant, send forth their inhabitants; beside there are arms kept in a lower room, which Cattina once showed me, and a subterraneous communication with the cannon you see without.” — Walsingham smiled at the formidable phalanx her fancy had thus embodied, well assured that a very few resolute men would put to flight not only the inhabitants of the castle, but all the peasantry around it who could be collected, and who could have little temptation to risk their lives in defending the mansion o
f a woman, whom they had, perhaps, never seen, and to whom they seemed to be very little obliged. Rosalie, however, after pausing a moment; said she recollected, that, on the day when Cattina undertook to show her where she might, perhaps, find some books, she had led her along a passage adjoining to her bedchamber, and from thence down several flights of narrow stairs to the bottom of the building, whence some places, that appeared like arched vaults, led into the room where the papers were deposited, and from thence there was a door opening into the fossé next the garden. She had particularly remarked this door, because Cattina had opened it to give more light to the apartment, which was extremely obscure, from part of it being under ground.— “Cattina (continued she) left me there alone for a considerable time, and when I came out of the room, the door still remained open; it is therefore probable, that there are no fastening to it, and that I might go from thence, as well as have my clothes conveyed thither, without alarming Cattina and the other servants, who inhabit quite another part of the house.” — Walsingham eagerly seized on this idea, but started a difficulty that had not occurred to Rosalie.— “How (said he) shall we, who are strangers to the castle, find this door, unless we are first shown it?”-Rosalie had nothing to propose.— “Unless, (added her new friend, after a little recollection), unless I could, before it is dark, go round the castle, when I think I could easily discover the place; there we would wait for you, or, if we found the door open, make our way up, at the hour appointed, to your apartment.”

  To this scheme, though she had nothing better to offer, Rosalie objected, because she dreaded, lest the sight of a stranger should raise suspicions in the servants; and she knew that Cattina, whose head was filled with ideas of pirates, since the appearance of one of their xebecs on the coast, was become more then usually vigilant in watching, at the windows, if these objects of her terror again appeared.

  “What is to be done then, dearest Madam? (cried Walsingham); we have no time to lose, and it is absolutely necessary that we determine on something. — Can you not, from some place where there is no danger of our being remarked, point out the side of the building where this door opens into the fossé?” —— This appeared the least perilous plan, but it was also the most uncertain. Rosalie then led the way, along the skirts of the wood, to a rising ground, affording a view of the whole building, and bade Mr. Walsingham remark three tall cypresses near its western extremity. — — “If you pass them, (said she), and walk straight on, you will come to what was once a deep fossé immediately surrounding the castle; but now it is in many places nearly filled up, and the earth and wall are fallen in, insomuch that, when I looked out for a moment at the door in question, rather for air than from any curiosity, I perceived I could have got up into the garden by this way.” —— Walsingham fixed his eye steadily on the place, assured Rosalie he should not fail to find it; then again repeated, that he would be punctually at the place, with his own servant and a sailor, at two o’clock in the morning, an hour when he knew the moon would afford light to facilitate their getting on board the vessel, which would immediately sail. He inquired, if Rosalie had a watch; she had lost hers in leaving Sicily; and, therefore, that no mistake might happen as to the hour, he desired she would make use of one of his, which he set by the other.

  It now became time to part, for the evening was closing in. Walsingham, after a renewal of every protestation which was likely to encourage the timid adventurer, whose fears and agitation he saw painted in her countenance, took a hasty leave, was presently lost among the trees, while Rosalie slowly returned to her gloomy prison, dreading lest any accident should prevent her leaving it; yet trembling at the hazard she must incur, and the difficulties she must encounter, to regain her liberty.

  CHAPTER 27

  AFTER having given the usual attention to her little boy, Rosalie was at liberty to make the few arrangements that were necessary, and to recollect on the step she was about to take. However earnestly she had wished for such an opportunity as was offered her, she trembled now that the moment approached; yet all she had heard from Mr. Walsingham, and his zeal, which did not seem lessened by the knowledge of her being married, ought to give her strength of mind and courage. But the uncertainty of the time of when she should reach England; the comfortless circumstance of her being so long on board a vessel, which might be encountered by pirates, where she would be the only woman; the sickness and difficulties of such a voyage with a little infant; and the doubts how far her husband might approve of her thus putting herself wholly in the power of a stranger, were considerations, which, though they did not shake her resolution, gave dreadful agitation to her spirits as she was about to execute it.

  Other fears too assailed her. — The door in the fossé might not be open; she was far from being sure she could find her way to it; and she shuddered at the thought of descending these long and intricate staircases, and traversing the vault-like passages leading to the room which she was not certain she should find. Cattina had told her a story of the former lord of this castle, she knew not his name, who, being jealous of his wife, had invited the Signeur, whom he suspected of being in her favour, to an entertainment, when he had killed him, and buried him in some of these rooms, and that lights had often been seen from the loops and windows, and strange noises heard in this end of the castle, and that nobody had lived in the lower apartments since that time. This was a story which had the less affected Rosalie when she heard it, because it was so common in all old houses in England to have such a legend. Holmwood had the ghost of a lady, in a ruff and farthingale, which always walked on Friday nights; and she was not at all surprised, that the old castle of Formiscusa was furnished with the spirit of a murdered knight: but now, that it was necessary for her to wander alone over the deserted caverns, which were the supposed scenes of such a tragic adventure, the same fears and feelings returned as had oppressed her mind on the first two or three days after her arrival in this desolate mansion.

  While these thoughts passed in succession through her mind, the hour arrived for Cattina to bring her evening meal. Cattina came as usual, but was not in one of her best humours; she was sullen and gloomy, and, instead of such conversation as she sometimes held, she seemed disposed to mutter complaints, though in indirect and general terms. Rosalie, afraid of her staying, and too conscious of what was passing in her own mind, was not able to command resolution enough to sooth and flatter her into better temper, which she had not unfrequently done. Cattina, however, having fidgetted about the room in her odd way when her temper was discomposed, sat down, and a silence ensued, when Rosalie heard the watch in her pocket, and was struck with the fear that Cattina would hear it too, and knowing she had not one before, would inquire how she came by it; at this idea she felt the blood forsake her cheeks, and was so much discomposed, that, to a more accurate observer than Cattina, she would undoubtedly have betrayed herself.

  Cattina, however, who had some grievances of her own, was fortunately less quick-sighted and intelligent than many who might have been chosen for the office of keeper, and after perplexing Rosalie by a longer stay than usual, while she talked and made as much noise as she could; the female warder of the castle departed, and, as she marched slowly through the adjoining rooms, Rosalie fervently prayed that she might never hear those sounds again.

  She now debated with herself, whether it would be better to go down first and examine the door, or wait till the hour when she expected Mr. Walsingham to arrive at it, and, after some deliberation, she determined on the former plan, reflecting, that if they came, and found it fastened, the rashness of Mr. Walsingham, who seemed to despise every danger that could arise from within the castle, might either impede her flight, or stain it with some deed of violence.

  It was necessary, however, to stay till she was sure that Cattina, and the two servants who belonged to the castle, were retired for the night; and indeed she dreaded the expedition too much to anticipate its execution. She endeavoured, by every argument she could draw from reason and re
ligion, to fortify herself against the fears that assailed her, and, for a moment, thought she had conquered them. The appearance of such a man as Mr. Walsingham, at such a place as Formiscusa, seemed little less than a miracle, and she endeavoured to persuade her mind it was the particular interposition of Heaven in her favour; and that to neglect such an occasion of delivering herself from perpetual confinement, would be ingratitude to the Almighty, as well as contrary to the duty she owed her husband, her child, and herself. Innocent as she was of all offence towards God or Man, what had she to fear?

  Fortifying her mind with these reflections, and endeavouring to look beyond present inconveniences, she thought upon the time when she should be restored to Montalbert, and should remember all that now perplexed and oppressed her only as a fearful dream.

  Listening attentively to the well-known sounds of shutting the doors, in the in habited part of the building, she heard them closed for the night in the usual manner; she then went to the window to see what was the weather — there was more wind than common, and she saw the old cypresses wave in the blast. From the sea, on the other side, the moon that was to light her on her perilous way was just emerging. She addressed herself to Heaven, and implored its protection; and, conscious of the rectitude of her intentions, believed that she should go through the evening’s task with resolution.

  Her own and her child’s clothes were collected in the trunks. She had dressed him ready for the journey before she put him to bed, and he slept undisturbed by the anxieties that agitated his mother’s breast, who, having determined not to attempt to sleep, looked continually at the watch, and thought that time moved more than usually slow. It was, however, near midnight, and, once more collecting all her resolution, she determined on examining the door by which she hoped to escape. She opened, not without difficulty, that of her chamber, which led to the avenues of this lower room, and such was the violence of the wind that rushed along the passages, that had she had a candle in her hand it must have been extinguished; she trembled, and, retreating, shut the door hastily. Warned by this circumstance, she now considered what would be her situation should the light be extinguished while she was descending, and should she lose her way among the many winding passages which she remembered having seen when she followed Cattina. The apprehension was fearful, and again her resolution to go down the stairs failed her.