Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy Fulfilled

by Major Richardson

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  At the termination of the memorable war of the Revolution--that war,which, on the one hand, severed the ties that bound the Colonies ininterest and affection with the parent land, and on the other, seemed,as by way of indemnification, to have riveted the Canadas in closer loveto their adopted mother--hundreds of families who had remained staunchin their allegiance quitted the American soil, to which they had beenunwillingly transferred, and hastened to close, on one side of the vastchain of waters that separated the descendants of France from thedescendants of England, the evening of an existence, whose morning andnoon had been passed on the other. Among the number of these was MajorGrantham, who, at the close of the Revolution, had espoused a daughter(the only remaining child) of Frederick and Madeline De Haldimar, whosemany vicissitudes of suffering prior to their marriage, have been fullydetailed in Wacousta. When, at that period, the different garrisons onthe frontier were given up to the American troops, the several Britishregiments crossed over into Canada, and, after a short term of servicein that country, were successively relieved by fresh corps from England.One of the earliest recalled of these was the regiment of ColonelFrederick De Haldimar. Local interests, however, attaching hisson-in-law to Upper Canada, the latter had, on the reduction of hiscorps, a provincial regiment, well known throughout the war of theRevolution, for its strength, activity, and good service finally fixedhimself at Amherstburg.

  In the domestic relations of life Major Grantham was exemplary, althoughperhaps his rigid notions of right had obtained for him more of therespect than of the love of those who came within their influence, andyet no mean portion of both. Tenderly attached to his wife, whom he hadlost when Gerald was yet in his twelfth year, he had not ceased todeplore her loss; and this perhaps had contributed to nourish areservedness of disposition, which, without at all aiming at, orpurposing, such effect, insensibly tended to the production of acorresponding reserve on the part of his children, that increased withtheir years. Indeed, on their mother all the tenderness of their younghearts had been lavished, and, when they suddenly saw themselvesdeprived of her who loved and had been loved by them, with dotingfondness, they felt as if a void had been left in their affections whichthe less tender evidences of paternal love were but insufficient whollyto supply. Still--although not to the same extent--did they love theirfather also; and what was wanted in intensity of feeling was more thanmade up by the deep, the exalted respect, they entertained for hisprinciples and conduct. It was with pride they beheld him, not merelythe deservedly idolized of the low, but the respected of the high--theexample of one class, and the revered of another; one whose highposition in the social circle had been attained, less by his strikingexterior advantages than the inward worth that governed every action ofhis life, and whose moral character, as completely _sans tache_ as hisfulfilment of the social duties was proverbially _sans reproche_, couldnot fail, in a certain degree, to reflect the respect it commanded uponthemselves.

  As we have before observed, however, all the fervor of their affectionhad been centered in their mother, and that was indeed a melancholynight in which the youths had been summoned to watch the passing away ofher gentle spirit for ever from their love. Isabella De Haldimar had,from her earliest infancy, been remarkable for her quiet andcontemplative character; and bred amid scenes that brought at everyretrospect recollections of some acted horror, it is not surprising thatthe bias given by nature should have been developed and strengthened bythe events that had surrounded her. Not dissimilar in disposition, asshe was not unlike in form, to her mother, she was by that mothercarefully endowed with those gentler attributes of goodness, which,taking root within a soil so eminently disposed to their reception,could not fail to render her in after life a model of excellence, bothas a mother and a wife. Notwithstanding, however, this moulding of herpliant and well-directed mind, there was about her a melancholy, which,while it gave promise of the devoted affection of the mother, offeredbut little prospect of cheerfulness, in an union with one, who, reservedhimself, could not be expected to temper that melancholy by theintroduction of a gaiety that was not natural to him. And yet it was forthis very melancholy, tender and fascinating in her, that Major Granthamhad sought the hand of Isabella De Haldimar; and it was for the veryausterity and reserve of his general manner, more than from the manlybeauty of his tall dark person, that he too had become the object of hersecret choice long before he had proposed for her.

  The austerity which Major Grantham carried with him into public lifewas, if not wholly laid aside, at least considerably softened, in thepresence of his wife, and when, later, the birth of two sons crownedtheir union, there was nothing left her to desire which it was in thepower of circumstances to bestow. Mrs. De Haldimar had not taken intoaccount the effect likely to be produced by a separation fromherself--the final severing, as it were, of every tie of blood. Of thefour children who had composed the family of Colonel Frederick DeHaldimar, the two oldest (officers in his own corps) had perished in thewar: the fourth, a daughter, had died young, of a decline: and the lossof the former especially, who had grown up with her from childhood toyouth, was deeply felt by the sensitive Isabella. With the dreadfulscenes perpetrated at Detroit--scenes in which their family had been theprincipal sufferers--the boys had been familiarized by the soldiers oftheir father's regiment, who often took them to the several points mostworthy of remark from the incidents connected with them; and, pointingout the spots on which their uncle Charles and their aunt Clara hadfallen victims to the terrible hatred of Wacousta for their grandfather,detailed the horrors of those days with a rude fidelity of coloring thatbrought dismay and indignation to the hearts of their wondering andyouthful auditors. On these occasions Isabella became the depository ofall they had gleaned. To her they confided, under the same pledge ofsecrecy that had been exacted from themselves, every circumstance ofhorror connected with those days; nor were they satisfied, until theyhad shown her those scenes with which so many dreadful recollectionswere associated.

  Thus was the melancholy of Isabella fed by the very silence in which shewas compelled to indulge. Often was her pillow wetted with tears, as shepassed in review the several fearful incidents connected with the talein which her brothers had so deeply interested her, and she would havegiven worlds at those moments, had they been hers to bestow, to recal tolife and animation the beloved but unfortunate uncle and aunt, to whosefate, her brothers assured her, even their veteran friends never alludedwithout sorrow. Often, too, did she dwell on the share her own fondmother had borne in those transactions, and the anguish which must havepierced her heart when first apprized of the loss of her, whom she hadeven _then_ loved with all a mother's love. Nay, more than once, whilegazing on the face of the former, her inmost soul given up to therecollection of all she had endured, first at Michillimackinac, andafterwards at Detroit, had she unconsciously suffered the tears tocourse down her cheeks without an effort to restrain them. Ignorant ofthe cause, Mrs. De Haldimar only ascribed this emotion to the naturalmelancholy of her daughter's character, and then she would gently chideher, and seek, by a variety of means, to divert her thoughts into somelively channel; but she had little success in the attempt to eradicatereflections already rooted in so congenial a soil.

  Her sister died very young, and she scarcely felt her loss; but when,subsequently, the vicissitudes of a military life had deprived her forever of her beloved brothers, her melancholy increased. It was howeverthe silent, tearless melancholy, that knows not the paroxysm ofoutrageous grief. The quiet resignation of her character formed anobstacle to the inroads of all vivacious sorrow; yet was her health notthe less effectually undermined by the slow action of her innatefeeling, unfortunately too much fostered by outward influences. By hermarriage and the birth of her sons, whom she loved with all a mother'sfondness, her mental malady had been materially diminished, and indeedin a great degree superseded, but unhappily, previous to these events,it had seriously effected her constitution, and produced a morbidsusceptibility of mi
nd and person, that exposed her to be overwhelmed bythe occurrence of any of those afflictions which otherwise she might,with ordinary fortitude, have endured. When therefore intelligence fromEngland announced that her parents had both perished in a hurricane ontheir route to the West Indies, whither the regiment of Colonel DeHaldimar had been ordered, the shock was too great for her, mentally andphysically enfeebled as she had been, to sustain, and she sank graduallyunder this final infliction of Providence.

  Major Grantham beheld with dismay the effect of this blow upon hisbeloved wife. Fell consumption had now marked her for her own, and sorapid was the progress of the disease acting on a temperament alreadytoo much predisposed to its influence, that, in despite of all humanpreventives, the sensitive Isabella, before six months had elapsed, wassummoned to a better world.

  We will pass over the deep grief which preyed upon the hearts of theunfortunate brothers for weeks after they had been compelled toacknowledge the stern truth that they were indeed motherless.

  It was soon after this event, that the first seeds of disunion began tospring up between England and the United States, the inevitable resultsof which it was anticipated, would be the involving of Canada in thestruggle; and, notwithstanding the explosion did not take place forseveral years afterwards, preparations were made on either shore, to anextent that kept the spirit of enterprise on the alert.

  Inheriting the martial spirit of their family, the inclinations of theyoung Granthams led them to the service; and, as their father could haveno reasonable objection to oppose to a choice which promised not merelyto secure his sons in an eligible profession, but to render them in somedegree of benefit to their country, he consented to their views.Gerald's preference leading him to the navy, he was placed on thatestablishment as a midshipman; while Henry, several years later,obtained, through the influence of their father's old friend GeneralBrock, an ensigncy in the King's Regiment.

  Meanwhile, Major Grantham, whose reserve appeared to have increasedsince the death of his wife, seemed to seek, in the active discharge ofhis magisterial duties, a relief from the recollection of the loss hehad sustained; and it was about this period that, in consequence of manyof the American settlers in Canada, having, in anticipation of a rupturebetween the two countries, secretly withdrawn themselves to the oppositeshore, his exaction of the duties of British subjects from those whoremained, became more vigorous than ever.

  We have already shown Desborough to have been the most unruly anddisorderly of the worthless set; and as no opportunity was omitted ofcompelling him to renew his oath of allegiance, (while his generalconduct was strictly watched), the hatred of the man for the sternmagistrate was daily matured, until at length it grew into aninextinguishable desire for revenge.

  The chief, and almost only recreation, in which Major Grantham indulged,was that of fowling. An excellent shot himself, he had been in somedegree the instructor of his sons; and, although, owing to the woodednature of the country, the facilities afforded to the enjoyment of hisfavorite pursuit in the orthodox manner of a true English sportsman,were few, still, as game was everywhere abundant, he had continued toturn to account the advantages that were actually offered. Both Geraldand Henry had been his earlier companions in the sport, but, of lateyears and especially since the death of their mother, he had been in thehabit of going out alone.

  It was one morning in that season of the year when the migratory pigeonspursue their course towards what are termed the "burnt woods," on whichthey feed, and in such numbers as to cover the surface of the heavens,as with a dense and darkening cloud, that Major Grantham sallied forthat early dawn, with his favorite dog and gun, and, as was his custom,towards Hartley's point. Disdaining, as unworthy of his skill, themyriads of pigeons that everywhere presented themselves, he passed fromthe skirt of the forest towards an extensive swamp, in the rear ofHartley's, which, abounding in golden plover and snipe, usually affordedhim a plentiful supply. On this occasion he was singularly successful,and, having bagged as many birds as he could conveniently carry, was inthe act of ramming down his last charge, when the report of a shot cameunexpectedly from the forest. In the next instant he was sensible he waswounded, and, placing his hand to his back, felt it wet with blood. Asthere was at the moment several large wild ducks within a few yards ofthe spot where he stood, and between himself and the person who hadfired, he at once concluded that he had been the victim of an accident,and, feeling the necessity of assistance, he called loudly on the unseensportsman to come forward to his aid; but, although his demand wasseveral times repeated, no answer was returned, and no one appeared.With some difficulty he contrived, after disembarrassing himself of hisgame-bag, to reach the farm at Hartley's, where every assistance wasafforded him, and, a waggon having been procured, he was conducted tohis home, when, on examination the wound was pronounced to be mortal.

  On the third day from this event Major Grantham breathed his last,bequeathing the guardianship of his sons to Colonel D'Egville, who hadmarried his sister. At this epoch, Gerald was absent with his vessel ona cruise, but Henry received his parting blessing upon both, accompaniedby a solemn injunction, that they should never be guilty of any actwhich could sully the memory, either of their mother or himself. ThisHenry promised, in the name of both, most religiously to observe; and,when Gerald returned, and to his utter dismay beheld the lifeless formof the parent, whom he had quitted only a few days before in all thevigor of health, he not only renewed the pledge given by his brother,but with the vivacity of character habitual to him, called down thevengeance of Heaven upon his head, should he ever be found to swervefrom those principles of honor, which had been so sedulously inculcatedin him.

  Meanwhile, there was nothing to throw even the faintest light on theactual cause of Major Grantham's death. On the first probing anddressing of the wound, the murderous lead had been extracted, and, as itwas discovered to be a rifle ball it was taken for granted that someIndian, engaged in the chase, had, in the eagerness of pursuit, missedan intermediate object at which he had taken aim and lodged the ballaccidentally in the body of the old gentleman; and that, terrified atdiscovery of the mischief he had done, and perhaps apprehendingpunishment, he had hastily fled from the spot, to avoid detection. Thisopinion, unanimously entertained by the townspeople, was shared by thebrothers, who knowing the unbounded love and respect of all for theirparent, dreamt not for one moment that his death could have been theresult of premeditation. It was left for Desborough to avow, at a laterperiod, that he had been the murderer; and with what startling effect onhim, to whom the admission was exultingly made, we have already seen.