 | CHAPTER II. The forsaken |  |
2. CHAPTER II.
Some passages of former times, that throw
A glaring light upon the events that follow.
The Sultan.
Captain Swain, as his name had been modernised,
was a descendant of the celebrated Seven Schute, lord of
Passaiung, who in the Dutch war, was obliged to yield
to the conqueror Stuyvesant, familiarly called wooden-legged
Peter. Captain Swain prided himself not a little
upon his ancestry; he was familiar with the history
of the Swedish settlements on the Delaware, for he
considered it the only history worth the trouble of becoming
acquainted with, and the ten years siege of
Troy, the wars of Rome and Carthage, and the contention
between the red and white roses of England,
were not to be mentioned on the same day with the appalling
difficulties encountered by his valiant ancestors
in making good their settlement on the banks of the
Delaware.
Captain Swain, at the commencement of the troubles
in the colonies, was about fifty years of age, of short
athletic person, and inclined to become fat. His countenance
was strongly characteristic of good-humour
and benevolence, while his conduct bore ample testimony
as to the sincerity of his visage. Inheriting a
considerable share of military spirit from honest Sven
Fort of the Holy Trinity, our worthy raised a company
of yeomen, from the vicinity of Darby, to assist in the
defence of their native rights.
Jurian Hartfield, mentioned in the preceding chapter,
had, while yet an infant, been placed under the
protecting care of captain Swain, and as his wife had
at that time been deprived by death of a child of the
same age, she readily received the helpless babe, and
resolved to cherish it. The mystery concerning the
birth of the child had not yet been divulged, and as he
advanced in years, he became sensible of the odium attached
to him on this account. Every scoff of the unthinking
proved a barbed shaft that no skill could extract,
and it remained until it poisoned the very fountain
of thought. The restlessness of his mind was depicted
in his strongly marked countenance, upon which there
hung a settled gloom. There was decision of character
in every line of his finished face. It indicated a
mind that disdaining the happy mean, would seek the
extremes of virtue or of vice. There was unwavering
determination in his piercing black eyes, which were
overshadowed by bushy brows. His hair was black
and glossy as the plume of the raven, and hung down
in Absalom ringlets over his shoulders. His mouth
was voluptuous, and his chin broad, and indicative of
firmness. His person was rather beneath the common size, but light and graceful, combining strength and activity.
Captain Swain having amassed considerable property
by his business as a grazier, determined to bestow
such an education upon Jurian as would lay the foundation
of future eminence, and accordingly he was
placed in the academy at Philadelphia. Here he contracted
an intimacy with Edward Morton, a classmate,
of the same age, which gradually ripened into friendship,
though the dispositions of the young men were
the antipodes of each other. Jurian's mind was as the
but that of Morton as the shallow brook that ripples
through the flowery mead, and dances in the sunshine.
These young men were seldom separated;
throughout the week they pursued their studies together,
and as their parents resided within a short distance
of each other, even during vacation there was no
interruption to their social intercourse. While at the
academy, every jest, or look, that Jurian could not
trace to an obvious cause, he imagined was occasioned
by his presence. He became a solitary being, and seldom
opened his lips but to Morton, whom he considered
the only one who felt an interest in his happiness.
At the age of eighteen he returned to the house of his
benefactor, with the reputation of a ripe scholar, and as
he resided but a short distance from Mr. Morton's residence,
he visited his friend frequently, and soon obtained
a footing of intimacy in that family that did not
exist between the elder branches.
Mr. Morton was of English descent; his connexions
were wealthy, and some of them were titled in the mother
country. His family pride was great; he was ostentatious
of his pedigree, and he experienced tenfold
more delight in contemplating the rough escutcheon on
the side of his old lumbering chariot, than the most enthusiastic
connoisseur of painting could possibly feel in
beholding the united splendour of the Italian artists.
Though an American by birth, he had been educated
in England; and as he became acquainted with that
nation at a time when his elastic spirits were ripe for
enjoyment, and having the means of gratifying every
idle pleasure, be embarked for his native shores with
feelings that might be compared to those of a convict
on his voyage to Botany Bay.
From his predilection for the mother country, he
viewed as open and unjustifiable rebellion the resistance
of the colonies against tyranny and oppression, and
those who were the most active in promoting the cause,
upon the scaffold. Having in the early part of his life
served in the army, he became partial to the scarlet
colour, which prejudice was not only evidence in his apparel,
but also in his austere countenance, which was
illuminated by the libation of many pipes of good old
Madeira. The effects of this mode of living were not
confined to his countenance, for he was subject to repeated
attacks of the gout, and while labouring under
this irritating malady, it was impossible for him to restrain
the violence of his fretful disposition. His family
consisted of his two children—Edward already
mentioned, and Agatha his sister; and Miss Rebecca
Buckley, a maiden sister of Mrs. Morton, whose dislike
to matrimony had gradually changed into inveterate
aversion as she approached the age of fifty. Mr. Morton's
system of domestic government was despotic.
True, Miss Rebecca would occasionally venture to
rebel against the arbitrary rule, while he was in perfect
health, and stirring about his farm; but as soon as he
was seated in his gouty chair, with his swathed foot
reposing on his scarlet velvet cushion, they were all
as obedient, and beheld him with as much terror, as the
submissive Turks do an absolute Bashaw with three
tails.
In consequence of the unconquerable pride of the
'squire, as he was commonly called, and as he viewed his
republican neighbours as beings of an inferior order, his
house was seldom visited, except upon business, by
those residing in the vicinity. Mrs. Swain had at one
time endeavoured to cultivate an intimacy, but found
the reception too cold and stately for the warm and
simple feelings of her heart, and accordingly desisted
from the undertaking, considering it utterly hopeless.
Jurian, as he was devoted to study, had acquired a
share of intelligence uncommon for a youth of his age,
which son recommended him to the notice of Mr.
Morton, who was astonished at finding such extensive
The old man would occasionally condescend to converse
with him on the subject of literature, and finding
his judgment sound and discriminative, and his memory
remarkably tenacious of the best passages of his favourite
poets, in despite of prejudice, our patrician condescended
to feel some interest in his conversation.
Agatha, from the daily habit of intercourse for many
years with Jurian, experienced a degree of regard for
him which increased as they advanced towards puberty,
and by his solicitude she was induced to believe that
her presence was essential to his happiness. There
was invariably a fervour in his manner towards her, that
could not escape her notice, and produced its effect. She
saw in his character traits which imperatively demanded
respect, and yet at times she fancied she discovered
others that it was impossible for her to reconcile with the
opinion she had entertained. Still towards her he was invariably
the same devoted being. Their intercourse
was without restraint, for in the purity of heart there
was nothing to alarm her at the danger of her situation.
She admired his talents, and frequently had recourse
to them for assistance in her studies. Their days were
frequently spent in the library together, and at evening,
she and her brother would accompany their mutual
friend on his way home. Nor can it be supposed that Jurian,
under these circumstances, could remain insensible
to her beauty and accomplishments. She had been
the object of his love from boyhood, and hope had incessantly
whispered that she must become the partner of his
future destiny. He was aware of the many difficulties he
would have to surmount to accomplish his ambitious
views, but then what obstacle was he not willing to encounter
to realize the glowing picture of coming joy,
that young love and hope had so temptingly portrayed.
Few artists have the faculty to paint the scenes of this
nether world in such glowing colours.
Captain Swain beheld with regret the bias of his affections,
he feared, must terminate in sorrow. He knew that
the stubborn pride of the 'squire would never condescend
to a connexion with a family in their humble station,
while on the other hand, entertaining a proper
sense of what was due to a lineal descendant of the
lord of Passaiung, he felt indignant at the slight, and
shrunk at the bare idea of entering into a family that
looked upon him as its inferior. He made his feelings
known to Jurian, and represented to him the consequences
that must inevitably attend his misplaced passion,
and concluded with exhorting him to estrange his
heart as soon as practicable, which advice was of course
obeyed in the same manner that it has been since the
days that the blind archer shot at Pyramus and Thisbe
through a chink in a two-foot wall.
The character of Jurian suddenly assumed a new
aspect. Emerging from the gloom in which it had
been enveloped, it appeared in its native vigour. The
shade of melancholy, which in his boyhood had weighed
heavily on him, was not thrown off, but gracefully
worn as a mantle, and imparted such an air of determination,
that ordinary minds shrunk when in his
presence. Agatha perceived the change with wonder
and admiration. Her heart confessed that it had not
known him before, and trembled at the confession, but
knew not wherefore, since his love for her was still the
same, but there was so startling a difference between
the man of real life, and the child of her imagination,
that she could not behold it without deprecating the
consequences. The link that bound her to him was now
firmly rivited. Her feelings with regard to him underwent
an entire revolution, and she trembled as she discovered
the change. She had loved him, but heretofore
her love had been timid, doubtful, and undefined. She
had viewed him as a flower bending beneath the weight
of the storm, and she felt desirous to protect the
spreading wide its arms, in defiance of the tempest.
Nearly a year had elapsed since Jurian had returned
from the city to his benefactor's house, which period
was passed in comparative seclusion from the
world. Still his time was not idly spent, but in incessant
and abstruse meditation, which perhaps was worse
than idleness. Possessed of a vigorous and analysing
mind, yet knowing little of the world, he framed theories
that could never be realized, and imbibed opinions
that run counter with the established order of things.
He viewed himself as an isolated being, and reasoned
without taking into view his relative situation with
mankind. He had been ushered into the world with a
stigma as indelible as the mark upon the forehead of
Cain. The means used by his allwise Creator, had
been scoffed at and stigmatized by the immaculate institutions
of man. By those institutions he was pronounced
degraded when he first breathed, and a life
the most exemplary, so far from obliterating the remembrance
of his inherent shame, would only tend to
emblazon it. Man had sat in judgment on the act of
his God, and had arrogantly pronounced that it was not
good. He felt this truth in all its force, and as he could
not enter upon the social compact upon equal terms
with the rest, he saw no reason why that compact
should exact from him equal sacrifices. So far from
having been a blessing, it would prove a lasting curse,
then why should he contribute to the support of institutions,
which had embittered the very fountain of his
existence, on account of the aberration of others and
the will of the Most High?
He now perceived the necessity of embracing some
pursuit that would enable him to cope with the world.
The law at that period was the highway to preferment,
and from his long habit of reflection and patient study,
he was led to make choice of this as his future profession.
He accordingly made known his wishes to captain
upon the world, where he believed him every way qualified
to shine, and forthwith made the necessary preparations
for him to pursue his studies in Philadelphia.
Jurian removed to the city, and for six months was liberally
supplied with funds by his generous benefactor,
when on presenting him with a sum, he declined receiving
it.
“How is this,” exclaimed the old grazier, “why do
you not take the money, my son?”
“I have lived long enough on your bounty, sir, and
it is now time that I should try the strength of my
wings,” was the reply.
“It will be time enough for that when you have completed
your studies, boy; so take the money.”
“Excuse me, sir, you have too long undergone privations
for my advancement, and I cannot patiently sit
down with the knowledge of this fact. It must now
terminate. Care has been bestowed upon my education.
The world is before me. I feel myself equal to most
with whom I come in collision, and it is my humour to
fight my way through it.”
“Have a care, or in this same fight, boy, you will
meet with some hard knocks, which may spoil your
humour.”
“I expect them, and am prepared to meet them.”
“But you will take the money?”
“No.”
“Now, by the glorious memory of honest Sven
Schute, but this is wonderful.”
“Strange as it may appear, sir, it is my determination.”
“Zounds, Jurian listen to reason. I have lived
nearly three times as long in the world as you have,
and though I know less of Virgil and Homer, than I do
of fat cattle and pasture grounds, I tell you there is nothing
to be done in this world without money.”
“I know it, sir,” replied the other calmly, “and,
therefore, wish you to keep all you have.”
“Zounds, but how do you mean to fill your purse, if
you refuse my offer?”
“Perhaps, sir, I shall carry none,” he replied, smiling.
“Ha! carry no purse! Even our Swedish ancestors
could not live without money. What do you mean,
boy?”
The young man answered, half jestingly—
“Honest Iago remarks, `thus do I ever make my
fool my purse,' and if every fool be a purse, from my
slight knowledge of the world, I have arrived at the
conclusion that wise men need not encumber their pockets.”
Then taking the other by the hand, he added,
in a serious tone, and his countenance became clouded
as he spoke—“Let us dismiss the subject for the
present. You, no doubt, will hear of my proceedings
hereafter, but whether the world will report favourably
or otherwise, I know not, and it gives me little concern;
but rest assured of this, though you have scattered the
seeds of benevolence on what may be termed an unproductive
soil, yet while I live, you shall never reap the
harvest of ingratitude.”
“Well am I assured, my son, that no weed of that
rank growth will ever take root in your bosom.”
The old man pressed him affectionately by the hand,
and they parted. Jurian returned to the city; his
passion for study had in a measure subsided, and his
dislike of the world had lost somewhat of its austerity.
He mingled more freely in society, and by means of
his polished manners, intelligence, and impressive demeanor,
he became conspicuous and generally known.
His society was courted, and he was looked upon as a
young man of uncommon promise; but by no means
exempt from the follies to which youth is addicted. In
him, however, they went farther, and assumed the complexion
of vices. He was extravagant, and it was a
the scenes of dissipation in which he indulged. He
betrayed great quickness in attaining a knowledge of
most games; he was fond of play, but then, it was said,
he played merely for pleasure, and not for the purpose
of gambling. Rumour spoke mysteriously and darkly
concerning him. There was nothing definite; all was
in obscurity, and he was pronounced by the grey-headed
to be a dangerous man; but why or wherefore they
knew not. Jurian felt that the eye of suspicion was on
him, but his was not a mind to quail at its glance. He
moved on in his course, and paid no regard to the hum
of those who surrounded him. He had already marked
out for himself a line of conduct, and no slight obstacle
could cause him to deviate; his mind had been
dispassionately made up, and it was not to be biassed
by the opinions of others.
Such was the state of affairs at the commencement
of the dissensions between the colonies and the mother
country, and captain Swain had no sooner joined the
continental forces, than 'squire Morton, in the pride of
royalty, viewed him and his whole race as traitors to
their king, and in the violence of his antipathy he was
not very choice in the epithets he bestowed upon the
continental soldiers, and Swain among the rest. He
daily became more reserved towards Jurian, and when
he discovered, what he was pleased to style, the presumptuous
partiality of the boy for his daughter, his
reserve increased to rudeness, and finally he forbad a
continuance of his visits. The intimacy which had continued
for years was thus abruptly broken off, and the
meetings which subsequently took place between the
lovers were secret and by stealth.
| CHAPTER II. The forsaken | |