CHAPTER II.
The scenes that once so brilliant shone are past, and can return no more to cheer the pensive heart; and memory recalls them with a tear; some lowering cloud succeeds, and all the gay delusive landscape fades.
While Alida remained at the village school, surrounded by the festivescenes of childhood, and pursuing her studies with assiduous emulation,with the hope of meriting, in future time, the praises of her fondparents, an unforeseen misfortune awaited her that no human foresightcould have power to arrest.
The health of her mother had been long declining, and her illness atthis time increased so far as to render medical assistance useless, andbaffled the skill of the ablest physicians. A trial so new, soafflicting, and so grievous to her youthful mind, to lose one of herhonoured parents, and to be unexpectedly summoned to her parental hometo receive the last benediction of a beloved mother, and at this earlyperiod of her life to be deprived of her kind care and protection, wasunfortunate in the extreme.
Every anxious solicitude and responsibility now rested alone upon awidowed father, who mourned deeply their common bereavement, while hefelt conscious that all his fatherly care and caresses could neversupply to Alida all the necessary requisitions that she had unhappilylost in so dear and interested a friend. When he observed her spiritslanguish, and the tear frequently starting in her eye, and her formersprightly countenance shaded with the deep tinges of melancholy, he sawthat the cheerfulness and gaiety of her natural disposition had receiveda powerful check, which promised to be lasting.
From this unhappy period she remained at home a long time with herfather. In kindred grief there was derived a congenial sympathy, and hersociety contributed in some degree to allay his sorrow, as the deepconcern he felt in her welfare caused him sometimes to restrain the flowof it in her presence. Self-exertion roused him in a measure from hislethargy, and by thus assuming serenity, to become in reality somethingmore composed. Nevertheless, he would often witness the excess ofanguish which had taken place in the bosom of his child, and behold herinteresting face bathed in tears, and her youthful brow clouded with asadness that nothing seemingly could dissipate.
His situation now became more sequestered than ever; he roamed insolitude, or pleased himself in ranging through silent glens inloneliness. His thoughts were absorbed in the gloomy experience of themisery of a painful separation from a dear and beloved object; he weptfor her whose mild and winning graces had power to soften and illuminatethe darkest shades of life, or alleviate the distressful scenes ofadversity.
His mind was wholly absorbed in those gloomy reflections that scarcelyadmitted a ray of consolation, when the weekly newspaper arrived fromthe neighbouring village; he took it up, hoping to find something toamuse his thoughts; he opened it to read the news of the day; he ran hiseye hastily over it, and was about to lay it aside, "when the death listarrested his attention by a display of broad black lines," and he, whohad not yet become reconciled to his present misfortune, was now aboutto experience another equally severe.
What could equal his bitterness, his surprise and grief, when he readthe disastrous news that his youngest son (who had lately gone on aforeign expedition) had died of a fever in a distant land a few weeksprevious!
The paper fell from his palsied hand,--a sudden faintness came overhim,--he fell back almost senseless in his chair,--exhausted by excessof grief, he remained a long time in a stupifying anguish.
The tidings were so unlooked-for of the premature death of hisunfortunate son, who about this time was expected to arrive in New-York.For him an only brother was inconsolable; and Alida, who had long beenaccustomed to his kindness and caresses, was overcome with a dejectionthat time alone could alleviate.
Her father observed her affliction in commisseration with his own,--hewas dejected and lonely, and the world appeared like a wilderness;nothing could lessen his present evil, or soothe his afflicted mind.
The former peaceful serenity of his life was materially clouded; and inhis turn calamitous wo had overtaken him--the inalienable portion ofhumanity,--and the varied and shifting scenery in the great drama oftime had brought with it disaster. His spirit was sunk in despondency,and his sensations became utterly absorbed in melancholy; and all thepious and philosophical reflections that he exerted himself to bring tohis remembrance, could scarcely afford even a transitory consolation inthis afflicting dispensation.
From foreign lands the tidings borne, With pain to wake a parent's anguish, O, brother dear, beloved of all, For thee a brother's heart must languish.
"That eye of brightness glows no more, That beaming glance in night is clouded;" On Maracaibo's distant shore, "In death's dark cell untimely shrouded."
Alas! for him no kindred near In hopes to minister relief; He sees no tear of pity shed, He sees no parents' anxious grief.
And as still evening came on, In saddest solitude and tears, His thoughts would turn on distant home, On peaceful scenes and happier years.
He thought, too, what a favour'd clime His gallant bark had left behind; He thought how science there, sublime, Beam'd her full radiance on the mind.
Though destined in a stranger's land, Detain'd from all he held most dear, Yet one kind hand, benevolent, Was found the gloomy hours to cheer.
O, how consoling is the eye Of him who comes to soothe our woes; O, what relief those cares supply Which a kind, watchful friend bestows.
When from this hand full well he found How much can lenient kindness do The generous Briton strives with care His drooping spirits to renew.
Yes, stranger, thou wast kind, humane, With quick assistance prompt to move; To ease the lingering hours of pain, In pity's kind endeavour strove.
When sickness o'er thy pallid cheek Had stole the lustre from thine eye, When near the doubtful crisis drew, And life approach'd its latest sigh,--
He moved thee to his own retreat, In his own mansion watch'd thee there; Around thy couch he still remained, Thy drooping heart with hopes to cheer.
"Peace, wing'd in fairer worlds above," Has ta'en thy form away from this; Has beckon'd thee to seats of glory, To realms of everlasting bliss.
So rich in piety and worth, Too soon, alas! lamented one, Thou hast been call'd away from earth, And heaven has claim'd thee for its own.
Alida; or, Miscellaneous Sketches of Incidents During the Late American War. Page 5