Chapter 2

(interrupting her, with emotion.) Of those arrangements I am
acquainted.

Mel. (surprised.) By what means were you informed thereof?

Al. I received it from a friend in your neighbourhood.

A considerable pause ensued.

Al. You see, Melissa, I am prepared for the event.--She was silent.

Al. I have mentioned before, that, whatever be your decision, no
impropriety can attach to you. I might not, indeed, from various
circumstances, and from the information I possess, I perhaps should not,
have given you farther trouble on the occasion, had it not been from
your own direction and appointment. And I am now willing to retire
without further explanation, without giving you the pain of an express
decision, if you think the measure expedient. Your declaration can only
be a matter of form, the consequence of which I know, and my proposition
may save your feelings.

Mel. No, Alonzo; my reputation depends on my adherence to my first
determination; justice to yourself and to Beauman also demand it. After
what has passed, I should be considered as acting capriciously and
inconsistently, should I depart from it. Beauman will be here to-morrow,
and----

Al. To-morrow, madam?

Mel. He will be here to-morrow, and you must consent to stay with us
until that time; the matter shall then be decided.

Al. I--yes--it shall be as you say, madam. Make your arrangements as you
please.

Evening had now spread her dusky mantle over the face of nature. The
stars glistened in the sky. The breeze's rustling wing was in the tree.
The "slitty sound" of the low murmuring brook, and the far off
water-fall, were faintly heard. The twinkling fire-fly arose from the
surrounding verdure and illuminated the air with a thousand transient
gleams. The mingling discordance of curs and watch-dogs echoed in the
distant village, from whence the frequent lights darted their palely
lustre thro' the gloom. The solitary whippoorwills stationed themselves
along the woody glens, the groves and rocky pastures, and sung a requiem
to departed summer. A dark cloud was rising in the west, across whose
gloomy front the vivid lightning bent its forky spires.

Alonzo and Melissa moved slowly to the village; she appeared enraptured
with the melancholy splendours of the evening, but the other subject
engaged the mental attention of Alonzo.

Beauman arrived the next day. He gave his hand to Alonzo with seeming
warmth of friendship. If it was reciprocated, it must have been
affected. There was no alteration in the manners and conversation of
Melissa: her conversation, as usual, was sprightly and interesting.
After dinner she retired, and her father requested Alonzo and Beauman to
withdraw with him to a private room. After they were seated, the old
gentleman thus addressed them:

"I have called you here, gentlemen, to perform my duty as a parent to my
daughter, and as a friend to you. You are both suitors to Melissa; while
your addresses were merely formal, they were innocent; but when they
became serious they were dangerous. Your pretensions I consider equal,
and between honourable pretenders, who are worthy of my daughter,
I shall not attempt to influence her choice. That choice, however, can
rest only on one: she has engaged to decide between you. I am come to
make, in her name, this decision. The following are my terms:--No
quarrel or difficulty shall arise between you, gentlemen, in consequence
of her determination. Nothing shall go abroad respecting the affair;
it shall be ended under my roof. As soon as I have pronounced her
declaration, you shall both depart and absent my house for at least two
weeks, as it would be improper for my daughter to see either of you at
present: after that period I shall be happy to receive your
visits."--Alonzo and Beauman pledged their honour to abide implicitly by
these injunctions. Her father then observed--"This, gentlemen, is all I
require. I have observed that I considered your pretensions equal: so
has my daughter treated them. You have both made professions to her; she
has appointed a time to answer you. That time has arrived, and I now
inform you that she has decided in favour of--Alonzo."

* * * * *

The declaration of Melissa's father burst upon the mental powers of
Beauman, like a sudden and tremendous clap of thunder on the deep and
solemn silence of night. Unaccustomed to disappointment, he had
calculated on success. His addresses to the ladies had ever been
honourably received.

Melissa was the first whose charms were capable of rendering them
sincere. He was not ignorant of Alonzo's attention to her: it gave him
however but little uneasiness. He believed that his superior
qualifications would eclipse the pretensions of his rival. He considered
himself a connoisseur in character, especially in the character of the
ladies. He conformed to their taste; he flattered their foibles, and
obsequiously bowed to the minutia of female volatility. He considered
himself skilled in the language of the heart; and he trusted that from
his pre-eminent powers in the science of affection, he had only to see,
to sue and to conquer. He had frankly offered his hand to Melissa, and
pressed her for a decisive answer. This from time to time she suspended,
and finally appointed a day to give him and Alonzo a determinate answer,
though neither knew the arrangements made with the other.

Finding, however, the dilemma in which she was placed, she had
previously consulted her parents. Her father had no objection to her
choosing between two persons of equal claims to affluence and
reputation; this choice she had made, and her father was considered the
most proper person to pronounce it.

When Beauman had urged his suit to Melissa, he supposed that her
hesitations, delays and suspensions, were only the effects of maiden
diffidence and timidity. He had no suspicions of her ultimately
rejecting it; and when she finally named the day of decision, he was
confident she would decide in his favour. These sentiments he had
communicated to the person who had written to Alonzo, intimating that
Melissa had fixed a time which was to crown his happiest wishes.

He had listened therefore attentively to the words of Melissa's father,
momentarily expecting to hear himself declared the favourite choice of
the fair.

What then must have been his disappointment when the name of Alonzo was
pronounced instead of his own! The highly finished scene of pleasure and
future prosperity which his ardent imagination had depicted, had
vanished in a moment. The rainbow glories which gilded his youthful
horizon, had faded in an instant--the bright sun of his early hopes had
set in mournful darkness. The summons of death would not have been more
unexpected, or more shocking to his imagination.

Very different were the sensations which inspired the bosom of Alonzo.
He had not even calculated on a decision in his own favour. He believed
that Beauman would be the choice of Melissa. She had told him that the
form of decision was necessary to save appearances: with this form he
complied because she desired it, not because he expected the result
would be in his favour. He had not therefore attended to the words of
Melissa's father with that eagerness which favourable anticipations
commonly produce. But when his name was mentioned; when he found he was
the choice--the happy favourite of Melissa's affection, every tender
passion of his soul became interested, and was suddenly aroused to the
refinements of sensibility. Like an electric shock, it reanimated his
whole frame, and vibrated every nerve of his heart. The glooms which
hung about his mind were dissipated, and the bright morning of joy broke
in upon his soul.

Thus were the expectations of Alonzo and Beauman disappointed--how
differently, the sequel has shown.

Melissa's father retired immediately after pronouncing the declaration;
the two young gentlemen also soon after withdrew. Alonzo saw the tempest
which tore the bosom of his rival, and he pitied him from his heart.

A fortnight passed, and Alonzo felt all that anxiety and impatience
which a separation from a beloved object can produce. He framed a
thousand excuses to visit Melissa, yet he feared a visit might be
premature. He was, however, necessitated to make a journey to a distant
part of the country, after which he resolved to see Melissa. He
performed his business, and was returning. It was toward evening, and
the day had been uncommonly sultry for the autumnal season. A rising
shower blackened the western hemisphere; the dark vapour ascended in
folding ridges, and the thunder rolled at a distance. Alonzo saw he
should be overtaken. He discovered an elegant seat about one hundred
yards distant from the road; thither he hastened to gain shelter from
the approaching storm. The owner of the mansion met him at the door,
politely invited him to alight and walk in, while a servant stood ready
to take his horse. He was ushered into a large room neatly furnished,
where the family and several young ladies were sitting. As Alonzo
glanced his eyes hastily around the room, he thought he recognized a
familiar countenance. A hurried succession of confused ideas for a
moment crossed his recollection. In a moment he discovered that it was
Melissa. By this unexpected meeting they were both completely
embarrassed. Melissa, however, arose, and in rather a confused manner,
introduced Alonzo, as the classmate of her brother, to the family of Mr.
Simpson and the company.

The rain continued most part of the afternoon. Alonzo was invited, and
consented to stay all night. A moon-light evening succeeded the shower,
which invited the young people to walk in an adjoining garden. Melissa
told Alonzo that Mr. Simpson was a distant relative of her father; his
family consisted of his wife, two amiable daughters, not far from
Melissa's age, and one son, named William, about seventeen years old.
She had been invited there to pass a week, and expected to return within
two days. And she added, smiling, "perhaps, Alonzo, we may have an
opportunity once more to visit the bower on my prospect hill, before
winter entirely destroys the remaining beauties of the summer." Alonzo
felt all the force of the remark. He recollected the conversation when
they were last at the place she mentioned; and he well remembered his
feelings on that occasion.

"Great changes, indeed, he replied, have taken place since we were last
there: that they are productive of unexpected and unexampled happiness
to me, is due, Melissa, to you alone." Alonzo departed the next morning,
appointing the next week to visit Melissa at her father's house.

Thus were the obstacles removed which presented a barrier to the united
wishes of Alonzo and Melissa. They had not, it is true, been separated
by wide seas, unfeeling parents, or the rigorous laws of war; but
troubles, vexations, doubts and difficulties, had thus far attended
them, which had now disappeared, and they calculated on no unpropitious
event which might thwart their future union. All the time that Alonzo
could spare from his studies was devoted to Melissa, and their parents
began to calculate on joining their hands as soon as Alonzo's
professional term of study was completed.

The troubles which gave rise to the disseveration of England from
America had already commenced, which broke out the ensuing spring into
actual hostilities, by the battle at Lexington, followed soon after by
the battle at Bunker Hill. The panic and general bustle which took place
in America on these events, is yet well remembered by many. They were
not calculated to impress the mind of Melissa with the most pleasing
sensations. She foresaw that the burden of the war must rest on the
American youth, and she trembled in anticipation for the fate of Alonzo.
He, with others, should the war continue, must take the field, in
defence of his country. The effects of such a separation were dubious
and gloomy. Alonzo and she frequently discoursed, and they agreed to
form the mystic union previous to any wide separation.

One event tended to hasten this resolution. The attorney in whose office
Alonzo was clerk, received a commission in the new raised American army,
and marched to the lines near Boston. His business was therefore
suspended, and Alonzo returned to the house of his father. He considered
that he could not long remain a mere spectator of the contest, and that
it might soon be his duty to take the field; he therefore concluded it
best to hasten his marriage with Melissa. She consented to the
proposition, and their parents made the necessary arrangements for the
event. They had even fixed upon the place which was to be the future
residence of this happy couple. It was a pleasantly situated village,
surrounded by rugged elevations, which gave an air of serenity and
seclusion to the valley they encircled. On the south arose a spacious
hill, which was ascended by a gradual acclivity; its sides and summit
interspersed with orchards, arbours, and cultivated fields. On the west,
forests unevenly lifted their rude heads, with here and there a solitary
field, newly cleared, and thinly scattered with cottages. To the east,
the eye extended over a soil, at one time swelling into craggy
elevations, and at another spreading itself into vales of the most
enchanting verdure. To the north it extended over a vast succession of
mountains, wooded to their summits, and throwing their shadows over
intervales of equal wilderness, till at length it was arrested in its
excursions by the blue mists which hovered over mountains more grand,
majestic and lofty.[A] A rivulet which rushed from the hills, formed a
little lake on the borders of the village, which beautifully reflected
the cottages from its transparent bosom. Amidst a cluster of locusts and
weeping willows, rose the spire of the church, in the ungarnished
decency of Sunday neatness. Fields, gardens, meadows, and pastures were
spread around the valley, and on the sides of the declivities, yielding
in their season the rich flowers, fruits and foliage of spring, summer
and autumn. The inhabitants of this modern Auvernum were mostly farmers.
They were mild, sociable, moral and diligent. The produce of their own
flocks and fields gave them most of their food and clothing. To
dissipation they were strangers, and the luxuries of their tables were
few.

Such was the place for the residence of Alonzo and Melissa. They had
visited the spot, and were enraptured with its pensive, romantic
beauties. A site was marked out whereon to erect their family mansion.
It was on a little eminence which sloped gradually to the lake, in the
most pleasant part of the village. "Here, said Alonzo one day to
Melissa, will we pass our days in all that felicity of mind which the
chequered scenes of life admit. In the spring we will rove among the
flowers. In summer, we will gather strawberries in yonder fields, or
whortleberries from the adjacent shrubbery. The breezes of fragrant
morning, and the sighs of the evening gale, will be mingled with the
songs of the thousand various birds which frequent the surrounding
groves. We will gather the bending fruits of autumn, and we will listen
to the hoarse voice of winter, its whistling winds, its driving snow,
and rattling hail, with delight."

The bright gems of joy glistened in the eyes of Melissa. With Alonzo she
anticipated approaching happiness, and her bosom beat in rapturous
unison.

Winter came on; it rapidly passed away. Spring advanced, and the
marriage day was appointed.

* * * * *

The spring opened with the din of preparation throughout America for
defensive war. It now was found that vigorous measures must be pursued
to oppose the torrent which was preparing to overwhelm the colonies,
which had now been dissevered from the British empire, by the
declaration of independence. The continental army was now raising, and
great numbers of American youth volunteered in the service of their
country. A large army of reinforcements was soon expected from England
to land on our shores, and "the confused noise of the warriors, and
garments rolled in blood," were already anticipated.

Alonzo had received a commission in a regiment of militia, and was
pressed by several young gentlemen of his acquaintance, who had entered
the army, to join it also. He had an excuse. His father was a man in
extensive business, was considerably past the prime of life, had a
number of agents and clerks under him, but began to grow unable to
attend to the various and burthensome duties and demands of a mercantile
life.

Alonzo was his only son; his assistance therefore became necessary
until, at least, his father could bring his business to a close, which
he was now about to effect. Alonzo stated these facts to his friends;
told them that on every occasion he should be ready to fly to the post
of danger when his country was invaded, and that as soon as his father's
affairs should be settled, he would, if necessary, willingly join the
army.

The day now rapidly approached when Alonzo was to make Melissa his own.
Preparations for the hymeneal ceremony were making, and invitations had
already gone abroad. Edgar, the brother of Melissa, had entered the army
in the capacity of chaplain. He was soon expected home, where he
intended to tarry until the consummation of the nuptials, before he set
out for the camp. Letters recently received from him, informed that he
expected to be at his father's in three or four days.

About three weeks previous to the appointed marriage day, Alonzo and
Melissa one afternoon rode out to the village which had been chosen for
their future residence. Their carriage stopped at the only inn in the
place, and from thence they walked around this modern Vaucluse, charmed
with the secluded beauties of its situation. They passed a little time
at the spot selected for their habitation; they projected the structure
of the buildings, planned the gardens, the artificial groves, the walks,
the mead, the fountains, and the green retreat of the summer house, and
they already saw, in anticipation, the various domestic blessings and
felicities with which they were to be surrounded.

They took tea at the inn, and prepared to return. It was at the latter
end of the month of May, and nature was adorned in the bridal ornaments
of spring; the sun was sunk behind the groves, which cast their sombre
shades over the valley, while the retiring beams of day adorned the
distant eastern eminences with yellow lustre.

The birds sung melodiously in the groves, the air was freshened by light
western breezes, bearing upon their wings all the entrancing odours of
the season. Around the horizon, electric clouds raised their brazen
summits, based in the black vapour of approaching night.

They slowly ascended the hill south of the town, where they paused a few
moments to enjoy the splendours of the evening scene. This hill, which
commanded a prospect of all the surrounding country, the distant sound,
and the adjacent towns and villages, presented to the eye, on a single
view, perhaps one of the most picturesque draperies painted by nature.
Alonzo attended Melissa to her father's, and the next day returned home.

His father had been absent for three or four days to one of the
commercial seaports, on business with some merchants with whom he was
connected in trade. He returned the next day after Alonzo got home:--his
aspect and his conversation were marked with an assumed and unmeaning
cheerfulness. At supper he ate nothing, discoursed much, but in an
unconnected and hurried manner, interrupted by long pauses, in which he
appeared to be buried in contemplation.

After supper, he asked Alonzo if it were not possible that his marriage
with Melissa could be consummated within a few days. Alonzo, startled at
so unexpected a question, replied, that such a proposal would be
considered extraordinary, perhaps improper: besides, when Melissa had
fixed the day, she mentioned that she had an uncle who lived near
Charleston, in South Carolina, whose daughter was to pass the summer
with Melissa, and was expected to arrive before the appointed day. It
would, he said, be a delicate point for him to request her to anticipate
the nuptials, unless he could give some cogent reasons for so doing; and
at present he was not apprised that any such existed. His father, after
a few moments hesitation, answered, "I have reasons, which, when
told"--here he stopped, suddenly arose, hastily walked the room in much
visible agony of mind, and then retired to his chamber.

Alonzo and his mother were much amazed at so strange a proceeding. They
could form no conjecture of its cause or its consequence. Alonzo passed
a sleepless night. His father's slumbers were interrupted. He would
frequently start up in the bed, then sink in restless sleep, with
incoherent mutterings, and plaintive moans. In the morning, when he
appeared at breakfast, his countenance wore the marks of dejection and
anguish.

He scarcely spoke a word, and after the table was removed, he ordered
all to withdraw except his wife and Alonzo; when, with emotions that
spoke the painful feelings of his bosom, he thus addressed them:

"For more than forty years I have toiled early and late to acquire
independence and ease for myself and my family. To accomplish this,
I became connected with some English importing merchants in a seaport
town, and went largely into the English trade. Success crowned our
endeavours; on balancing our accounts two years ago, we found that our
expectations were answered, and that we were now sufficiently wealthy to
close business, which some proposed to do; it was, however, agreed to
make one effort more, as some favourable circumstances appeared to
offer, in which we adventured very largely, on a fair calculation of
liberal and extensive proceeds.

"Before returns could be made, the war came on, embarrassments ensued,
and by indubitable intelligence lately received, we find that our
property in England has been sequestered; five of our ships, laden with
English goods, lying in English harbours, and just ready to sail for
America, have been seized as lawful prizes. Added to this, three vessels
from the Indies, laden with island produce, have been taken on their
homeward bound voyage, and one lost on her return from Holland. This
wreck of fortune I might have survived, had I to sustain only my equal
dividend of the loss: but of the merchants with whom I have been
connected, not one remains to share the fate of the event; all have
absconded or secreted themselves. To attempt to compound with my
creditors would be of little avail; my whole fortune will not pay one
fourth of the debts; so that, compound or not, the consequence to me is
inevitable ruin.

"To abscond would not secure me, as most of my remaining property is
vested in real estate. And even if it would, I could not consent to it:
I could not consent to banish myself from my country; to flee like a
felon; to skulk from society with the base view of defrauding my
creditors. No, I have lived honestly, and honestly will I die. By fair
application and long industry my wealth has been obtained; and it shall
never justly be said, that the reputation of my latter days was stained
with acts of baseness and meanness. I have notified and procured a
meeting of the creditors, and have laid the matters before them. Some
appeared favourable to me; others insinuated that we were all connected
in fraudulent designs, to swindle our creditors. This I repelled with
becoming spirit, and was in consequence threatened with immediate
prosecution. Whatever may be the event, I had some hopes that your
happiness, Alonzo, might yet be secured. Hence I proposed your union
with Melissa, before our misfortunes should be promulgated. Your parents
are old; a little will serve the residue of their days. With your
acquirements you may make your way in life. I shall have no property to
give you; but I would still wish you to secure that which you prize far
above, and without which, both honours and emoluments are unimportant
and worthless."

At this moment a loud rap at the door interrupted the discourse, and
three men were ushered in, which proved to be the sheriff and his
attendants, sent by the more inexorable creditors of Alonzo's father and
company, to level on the property of the former, which orders they
faithfully executed, by seizing the lands, tenements and furniture, and
finally arresting the body of the old gentleman, which was soon released
by his friendly neighbours becoming bail for his appearance; but the
property was soon after sold at public vendue, at less than half its
value, and Alonzo's father and mother were compelled to abandon the
premises, and take shelter in a little hut, belonging to a neighbouring
farmer, illy and temporarily furnished by the gratuitous liberality of a
few friends.

We will not stop the reader to moralize on this disastrous event. The
feelings of the family can better be conceived than detailed. Hurled in
a moment from the lofty summit of affluence to the low and barren vale
of poverty! Philosophy came to the aid of the parents, but who can
realise the feelings of the son! Thus suddenly cut short of his
prospects, not only of future independence, but even of support, what
would be the event of his suit to Melissa, and stipulated marriage? Was
it not probable that her father would now cancel the contract? Could she
consent to be his wife in his present penurious situation?--And indeed,
could he himself consent to make her his wife, to make her miserable?

In this agitated frame of mind he received a letter from his friend in
Melissa's neighbourhood, requesting him to come immediately to his
house, whither he repaired the following day. This person had ever been
the unchanging friend of Alonzo; he had heard of the misfortunes of his
family, and he deeply sympathized in his distress. He had lately married
and settled in life: his name was Vincent.

When Alonzo arrived at the house of his friend, he was received with the
same disinterested ardour he ever had been in the day of his most
unbounded prosperity.--After being seated, Vincent told him that the
occasion of his sending for him was to propose the adoption of certain
measures which he doubted not might be considered highly beneficial as
it respected his future peace and happiness. "Your family misfortunes,
continued Vincent, have reached the ears of Melissa's father. I know the
old gentleman too well to believe he will consent to receive you as his
son-in-law, under your present embarrassments. Money is the god to which
he implicitly bows. The case is difficult, but not insurmountable. You
must first see Melissa; she is now in the next room. I will introduce
you in; converse with her, after which I will lay my plan before you."

* * * * *

Alonzo entered the room; Melissa was sitting by a window which looked
into a pleasant garden, and over verdant meadows whose tall grass waved
to the evening breeze. Farther on, low vallies spread their umbrageous
thickets, where the dusky shadows of night had begun to assemble.

On high hills beyond, the tops of lofty forests, majestically moved by
the billowy gales, caught the sun's last ray. Fleecy summer clouds
hovered around the verge of the western horizon, spangled with silvery
tints or fringed with the gold of evening.

A mournfully murmuring rivulet purled at a little distance from the
garden, on the borders of a small grove, from whence the American wild
dove wafted her sympathetic moaning to the ear of Melissa. She sat
leaning on a small table by the window, which was thrown up. Her
attention was fixed. She did not perceive Vincent and Alonzo as they
entered. They advanced towards her. She turned, started, and arose. With
a melancholy smile, and tremulous voice, "I supposed, she said, that it
was Mrs. Vincent who was approaching, as she has just left the room."
Her countenance appeared dejected, which, on seeing Alonzo, lighted up
into a languid sprightliness. It was evident she had been weeping.

Vincent retired, and Alonzo and Melissa seated themselves by the window.
"I have broken in upon your solitude, perhaps, too unseasonably, said
Alonzo. It is however, the fault of Vincent:--he invited me to walk into
the room, but did not inform me that you were alone." "Your presence was
sudden and unexpected, but not unseasonable, replied Melissa. I hope
that you did not consider any formality necessary in your visits,
Alonzo."

Alonzo. I once did not think so. Now I know not what to think--I know
not how to act. You have heard of the misfortunes of my father's family,
Melissa?

Mel. Yes; I have heard the circumstances attending that event--an event
in which no one could be more deeply interested, except the immediate
sufferers, than myself.

Al. Your father is also acquainted with my present situation?

Mel. He is.

Al. How did he receive the intelligence?

Mel. With deep regret.

Al. And forbade you to admit my addresses any longer?

Mel. No, not absolutely.

Al. If even in an unqualified or indirect manner, it is proper I should
know it.

Mel. It certainly is. Soon after we received the intelligence of your
family misfortunes, my father came into the room where I was sitting;
"Melissa, said he, your conduct has ever been that of a dutiful child;
mine, of an indulgent parent.--My first, my ultimate wish, is to see my
children, when settled in life, happy and honourably respected. For this
purpose, I have bestowed on them a proper education, and design suitably
to apportion my property between them. On their part, it is expected
they will act prudently and discreetly, especially in those things which
concern their future peace and welfare.--The principal requisite to
ensure this is a proper connexion in marriage." Here my father paused a
considerable time, and then continued--"I know, my child, that your
situation is a very delicate one.