CHAPTER VII.
An old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate.
THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.
But who the countless charms can draw That grac'd his mistress true? Such charms the old world seldom saw, Nor oft, I ween, the new.
Her raven hair plays round her neck Like tendrils of the vine; Her cheeks, red, dewy rose-buds deck, Her eyes like diamonds shine.
BRYAN AND PEREENE.
Anthony Warden had resided in Maryland for forty years before theperiod of this story. During the greater portion of this time heperformed the duties of the Collector of the Proprietary's revenues inthe port. By the persuasion of Cecilius Calvert he had become a settlerin the New World, where he had received from his patron the grant of alarge tract of land, which, in progress of time, under a careful courseof husbandry, rendered him a man of easy fortune. One portion of thistract lay adjacent to the town, and stretched along the creek of St.Inigoe's, constituting an excellent farm of several hundred acres. Uponthis land the Collector had dwelt from an early period of hissettlement.
A certain sturdiness of character that matched the perils of thatadventurous colonial life, and a vigorous intellect, gave Mr. Wardengreat authority over the inhabitants of the province, which wasincreased by the predominant honesty of purpose and plain, unpretendingdirectness of his nature. A bountiful purse and jocund temper enabledand prompted him to indulge, almost without stint, that hospitalitywhich furnishes the most natural and appropriate enjoyment of those whodwell remote from the busy marts of the world. His companionable habitshad left their tokens upon his exterior. His frame was corpulent, hisfeatures strongly defined, his eye dark blue, with a mastiff kindnessin its glance. The flush of generous living had slightly overmasteredthe wind-and-weather hue of his complexion, and given it the tints of aripe pear. Seventy years had beaten upon his poll without other badgeof conquest than that of a change of his brown locks to white;--theirvolume was scarcely diminished, and they still fell in curls upon hisshoulders.
Two marriages had brought him a large family of children, of whom theeldest (the only offspring of his first nuptials) was Alice Warden, amaiden lady who now, well advanced in life, occupied the highest postof authority in the household, which had, for several years past, beentransferred to her by the demise of the second wife. His sons had allabandoned the paternal roof in the various pursuits of fortune, leavingbehind them, besides Mistress Alice, a sister, the youngest of theflock, who, at the epoch at which I am about to present her, was justverging towards womanhood.
The dwelling of the Collector stood upon the high bank formed by theunion of St. Inigoe's creek and St. Mary's river. It was, according tothe most approved fashion of that day, built of imported brick, with adouble roof penetrated by narrow and triangular-capped windows. Therooms were large and embellished with carved wainscots and a profusionof chiseled woodwork, giving them an elaborate and expensive aspect.This main building overlooked, with a magisterial and protecting air, agroup of single-storied offices and out-houses which were clusteredaround, one of which was appropriated by the Collector as his place ofbusiness, and may still be seen with its decayed book-shelves, adeserted ruin hard by the mansion which yet survives in tolerablerepair. This spacious domicil, with its broad porch, cottage-likeappendages and latticed sheds, was embosomed in the shade of elms andmulberries, whose brown foliage, fanned by the autumnal breeze,murmured in unison with the plashing tide that beat against the pebblesimmediately below. A garden in the rear, with trellised and vine-cladgateways, and walks lined with box, which the traveller may yet beholdin venerable luxuriance, furnished good store of culinary dainties;whilst a lawn, in front, occupying some two or three acres and boundedby the cliff which formed the headland on the river, lay open to thesun, and gave from the water an unobstructed view of the mansion. Thetaste displayed in these embellishments, the neatness of the grounds,the low, flower-spangled hedge of thorn that guarded the cliff, theclumps of rose trees and other ornamental shrubs, disposed to gratifythe eye in the shifting seasons of their bloom, the various accessoriesof rustic seats, bowers and parterres--all united to present anagreeable and infallible index of that purity of mind which broughtinto assemblage such simple and attractive elements of beauty.
All around the immediate domain of the dwelling-house were orchards,woodlands and cultivated fields, with the usual barns and otherstructures necessary in the process of agriculture;--the whole regionpresenting a level plain, some fifty or sixty feet above the tide, ofsingular richness as a landscape, and no less agreeable to be lookedupon for its associations with the idea of comfortable independence inthe proprietor. This homestead had obtained the local designation ofthe Rose Croft,--a name, in some degree, descriptive of the predominantembellishment of the spot.
In his attire, Master Anthony Warden, the worshipful Collector (to givehim his usual style of address in the province) exhibited some tendencytowards the coxcombry of his day. It was marked by that scrupulousobservance of the prerogative of rank and age which characterised thecostume of the olden time,--smacking no little of the flavour of theofficial martinet. Authority, amongst our ancestors, was wont to borrowconsequence from show. The broad line which separated gentle fromsimple was recognised, in those days, not less strongly in thehabiliments of the person than in his nurture and manners. Thedivisions between the classes of society were not more authenticallydistinguished in any outward sign than in the embroidered velvet orcloth of the man of wealth, and the plain serge, worsted, or leather ofthe craftsman. The Collector of St. Mary's, on festive occasions, wentforth arrayed much after the manner in which Leslie has represented SirRoger de Coverly, in his admirable painting of that knight; andalthough he was too vain of his natural locks to adopt the periwig ofthat period, yet he had trained his luxuriant tresses into a studiedimitation of this artificial adornment. His embroidered coat of drabvelvet, with wadded skirts and huge open cuffs, his lace wristbands,his ample vest, and white lamb's-wool hose rolled above his knees, hisbuckled shoe and three-cornered hat--all adjusted with a particularitythat would put our modern foppery to shame--gave to the worthy burgessof St. Mary's a substantial ascendancy and an unquestioned regard, thatrendered him, next to the Proprietary, the most worshipful personage inthe province.
This pedantry of costume and the circumspect carriage which it exacted,were pleasantly contrasted with the flowing vivacity of the wearer,engendering by their concourse an amusing compound, which I might calla fettered and pinioned alacrity of demeanour, the rigid stateliness ofexterior seeming rather ineffectually to encase, as a half-burstingchrysalis, the wings of a gay nature.
Mr. Warden was reputed to be stubborn in opinion. The good people ofthe town, aware of his pertinacity in this particular, had no mind tomake points with him, but, on the contrary, rather corroborated him inhis dogmatism by an amiable assentation; so that, it is said, he grewdaily more peremptory. This had become so much his prerogative, thatthe Lord Proprietary himself gave way to it with as good a grace as therest of the inhabitants.
It may be imagined that so general a submission to this temper wouldhave the tendency to render him a little passionate. They say it was arich sight to see him in one of his flashes, which always took thebystanders by surprise, like thunder in the midst of sunshine; butthese explosions were always short-lived, and rather left a morewholesome and genial clearness in the atmosphere of his affections.
The household at the Rose Croft, I have hinted, was regulated byMistress Alice, who had, some time before our acquaintance with her,reached that period of life at which the female ambition for display isprone to subside into a love of domestic pursuits. It was now her chiefworldly care and delight to promote the comfort of those whocongregated around the family hearth. In the administration of thisoffice, it may be told to her praise, that she manifested thatunpretending good sense which is a much more rare and estimable qualitythan many others of be
tter acceptation with the world. As was naturalto her tranquil position and kindly temper, her feelings had taken aply towards devotion, which father Pierre did not omit to encourage andconfirm by all the persuasions enjoined by the discipline of the Romishchurch. The gentle solicitude with which the ministers of that ancientfaith watch and assist the growing zeal of its votaries; thecaptivation of its venerable ceremonies, and the familiar and endearingtone in which it addresses itself to the regard of its children,sufficiently account for its sway over so large a portion of mankind,and especially for its hold upon the affections of the female breast.
Upon the thoughtful character of Alice Warden this influence shed amellow and attractive light, and gave to the performance of her dailyduties that orderly and uninterrupted cheerfulness which showed thecontent of her spirit. She found an engrossing labour of love insuperintending the education of her sister. Blanche Warden had nowarrived within a span of her eighteenth year. Alice had guarded herpath from infancy with a mother's tenderness, ministering to herenjoyments and instilling into her mind all that her own attainments,circumscribed, it is true, within a narrow circle, enabled her toteach. The young favourite had grown up under this domestic nurture,aided by the valuable instructions of father Pierre, who had theguidance of her studies, a warm-hearted girl, accomplished much beyondthe scant acquisitions ordinarily, at that day, within the reach ofwomen, and distinguished for that confiding gentleness of heart andpurity of thought and word which the caresses of friends, theperception of the domestic affections, and seclusion from the busyworld are likely to engender in an ardent and artless nature.
Of the beauty of the Rose of St. Mary's (for so contemporaries werewont to designate her) tradition speaks with a poetical fervour. I haveheard it said that Maryland, far-famed for lovely women, hath not sincehad a fairer daughter. The beauty which lives in expression waseminently hers; that beauty which is scarcely to be caught by thepainter,--which, changeful as the surface of the welling fountain whereall the fresh images of nature are for ever shifting and sparkling withthe glories of the mirror, defies the limner's skill. In stature shewas neither short nor tall, but distinguished by a form of admirablesymmetry both for grace and activity. Her features, it is scarcenecessary to say, were regular,--but not absolutely so, for, I know notwhy, perfect regularity is a hinderance to expression. Eyes of darkhazel, with long lashes that gave, by turns, a pensive and playfullight to her face, serving, at will, to curtain from the world thethoughts which otherwise would have been read by friend and foe; hairof a rich brown, glossy and, in some lights, even like the raven'swing,--ample in volume and turning her brow and shoulders almost intomarble by the contrast; a complexion of spotless, healthful white andred; a light, elastic step, responding to the gaiety of her heart; avoice melodious and clear, gentle in its tones and various in itsmodulation, according to the feeling it uttered;--these constituted noinconsiderable items in the inventory of her perfections. Her spiritwas blithe, affectionate and quick in its sympathies; her ear credulousto believe what was good, and slow to take an evil report. Theinnocence of her thoughts kindled an habitual light upon hercountenance, which was only dimmed when the rough handling by fortuneof friend or kinsman was recounted to her, and brought forth the readytear--for that was ever as ready as her smile.
I might tell more of Blanche Warden, but that my task compels me tohasten to the matter of my story.
Rob of the Bowl: A Legend of St. Inigoe's. Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 7