full forutterance.
"As soon as I was ready, we entered the carriage, which drove rapidlyaway. As we passed out of the gate, I looked back at the mansion, andsaw the light of the candle, which I had forgotten to remove, streamingfrom the window, and it was by an extraordinary effort that I preventedmyself from fainting.
"The carriage drove, as near as I could judge, about ten miles, when westopped at an inn for the night, except my father, who returned home onhorseback, leaving me at the inn in company with the servants, where thecarriage also remained. The maid was a person who had been attached tome from my infancy. I asked her whether she could explain thesemysterious proceedings.
"All I know, Miss, I will tell you, said she. Your father received aletter to-day from your aunt, which put him in a terrible flutter:--heimmediately ordered his carriage and directed us to attend him. He metyour aunt at a tavern somewhere away back, and she told him that thegentleman who used to come to our house so much once, had contrived tocarry you off from the place where you lived with her; so your fatherconcluded to send you to your uncle's in Carolina, and said that I mustgo with you. And to tell you the truth, Miss, I was not displeased withit; for your father has grown so sour of late, that we have little peacein the house.
"By this I found that my fate was fixed, and I gave myself up for sometime to unavailing sorrow. The maid informed me that my mother was well,which was one sweet consolation among my many troubles; but she knewnothing of my father's late conduct.
"The next morning we proceeded, and I was hurried on by rapid stages tothe Chesapeak, where, with the maid and one man servant, I was put onboard a packet for Charleston, at which place we arrived in due time.
"My uncle and his family received me with much tenderness: the servantdelivered a package of letters to my uncle from my father. The carriagewith one servant (the driver) had returned from the Chesapeak toConnecticut.
"My father had but one brother and two sisters, of which my uncle hereis the youngest. One of my aunts, the old maid, who was my _protectress_at the old mansion, you have seen at my father's. The other was themother of Alfred:--she married very young, to a gentleman in Hartford,of the name of Wilmot, who fell before the walls of Louisburg, in theold French war. My aunt did not long survive him;--her health, which hadbeen for some time declining, received so serious a shock by thiscatastrophe, that she died a few months after the melancholy tidingsarrived, leaving Alfred, their only child, then an infant, to theprotection of his relations, who as soon as he arrived at a suitableage, placed him at school.
"My grandfather, who had the principal management of Mr. Wilmot'sestate, sent my uncle, who was then young and unmarried, to Hartford,for the purpose of transacting the necessary business. Here he becameacquainted with a young lady, eminent for beauty and loveliness, butwithout fortune, the daughter of a poor mechanic. As soon as mygrandfather was informed of this attachment, he, in a very peremptorymanner, ordered my uncle to break off the connection on pain of hishighest displeasure. But such is the force of early impressions,(Melissa sighed) that my uncle found it impossible to submit to thesefirm injunctions; a clandestine marriage ensued, and my grandfather'smaledictions in consequence. The union was, however, soon dissolved; myuncle's wife died in about twelve months after their marriage, and soonafter the birth of the first child, which was a daughter. Inconsolableand comfortless, my uncle put the child out to nurse, and travelled tothe south. After wandering about for some time, he took up his residencein Charleston, where he amassed a splendid fortune. He finally marriedto an amiable and respectable woman, whose tenderness, though it did notentirely remove, yet greatly alleviated the pangs of early sorrow; andthis, added to the little blandishments of a young family, fixed him ina state of more contentedness than he once ever expected to see.
"His daughter by his first wife, when she became of proper age, was sentto a respectable boarding-school in Boston, where she remained untilwithin about two years before I came here.
"Alfred was educated at Harvard College: as soon as he had graduated, hecame here on my uncle's request, and has since remained in his family.
"Soon after I arrived here; my uncle came into my chamber one day."Melissa, said he, I find by your father's letters that he considers youto have formed an improper connection. I wish you to give me a truestatement of the matter, and if any thing can be done to reconcile youto your father, you may depend upon my assistance. I have seen sometroubles in this way myself, in my early days; perhaps my counsel may beof some service."
"I immediately gave a correct account of every particular circumstance,from the time of my first acquaintance with you until my arrival at thishouse. He sat some time silent, and then told me that my father, hebelieved, had drawn the worst side of the picture; and that he had urgedhim to exert every means in his power to reclaim me to obedience: ThatBeauman was to follow me in a few months, and that, if I still refusedto yield him my hand, my father positively and solemnly declared that hewould discard me forever, and strenuously enjoined it upon him to do thesame. "I well know my brother's temper, continued my uncle; the case isdifficult, but something must be done. I will immediately write to yourfather, desiring him not to proceed too rashly; in the mean time we mustconsider what measures to pursue. You must not, my niece, you must notbe sacrificed." So saying, he left me, highly consoled that, instead ofa tyrant, I had found a friend in my new protector.
"Alfred was made acquainted with the affair, and many were the plansprojected for my benefit, and abandoned as indefeasible, till an eventhappened which called forth all the fortitude of my uncle to support it,and operated in the end to free me from persecution.
"My uncle's daughter, by his first wife, was of a very delicate andsickly constitution, and her health evidently decreasing. After she cameto this place, she was sent to a village on one of the high hills ofPedee, where she remained a considerable time; she then went to one ofthe inland towns in North Carolina, from whence she had but justreturned with Alfred when I arrived. Afterwards I accompanied her toGeorgetown, and other places, attended by her father, so that she waslittle more known in Charleston than myself. But all answered no purposeto the restoration of her health; a confirmed hectic carried her off inthe bloom of youth.
"I was but a few months older than she; her name was Melissa, a namewhich a pious grandmother had borne, and was therefore retained in thefamily. Our similarity of age, and in some measure of appearance, ourbeing so little known in Charleston, and our names being the same,suggested to Alfred the idea of imposing on my father, by passing off mycousin's death as my own. This would, at least, deter Beauman fromprosecuting his intended journey to Charleston; it would also give timefor farther deliberation, and might so operate on my father's feelingsas to soften that obduracy of temper, which deeply disquieted himselfand others, and thus finally be productive of happily effecting thedesigned purpose.
"My uncle was too deeply overwhelmed in grief to be particularlyconsulted on this plan. He however entrusted Alfred to act with fullpowers, and to use his name for my interest, if necessary. Alfredtherefore procured a publication, as of my death, in the Connecticutpapers, particularly at New London, the native place of Beauman. InCharleston it was generally supposed that it was the niece, and not thedaughter of Col. D----, who had died.--This imposition was likewisepractised upon the sexton, who keeps the register of deaths.[A] Alfredthen wrote a letter to my father, in my uncle's name, stating theparticulars of my cousin's death, and applying them to me. The epitaphon her tombstone was likewise so devised that it would with equalpropriety apply either to her or to me.
[Footnote A: This was formerly the case.]
* * * * *
"To undeceive you, Alonzo, continued Melissa, was the next object. Iconsulted with Alfred how this should be done.----"My sister, he said,(in our private circles he always called me by the tender name ofsister,) I am determined to see you happy before I relinquish thebusiness I have undertaken: letters are a precarious mode ofcommun
ication; I will make a journey to Connecticut, find out Alonzo,visit your friends, and see how the plan operates. I am known to yourfather, who has ever treated me as a relative. I will return as speedilyas possible, and we shall then know what measures are best next topursue."
"I requested him to unfold the deception to my mother, and, if he foundit expedient, to Vincent and Mr. Simpson, in whose friendship andfidelity I was sure he might safely confide.
"He soon departed, and returned in about two months. He found my fatherand mother in extreme distress on account of my supposed death: mymother's grief had brought her on the bed of sickness; but when Alfredhad undeceived her she rapidly revived. My father told Alfred that heseriously regretted opposing my inclinations, and that, were it possiblehe could retrace the steps he had taken, he should conduct in a verydifferent
Alonzo and Melissa; Or, The Unfeeling Father: An American Tale Page 28
