The family doom; or, The sin of a countess

Front matter

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Contents

Chapter. Pape

I. — AGAINST WIND AND WAVE 21

II. — STORM-BOUND 30

Chapter I. Against Wind And Wave

All day with fruitless strife they toiled.

With eve the ebbino; current boiled,

More fierce from strait and lake;

And midway through the channel met Conflicting tides that foam and fret,

And high their mingled billows jet.

As spears that, in the battle set.

Spring upward as they break.

Then, too, the lights of eve were past,

And louder sang the western blast On rocks so gray and hoar :

Rent was the sail and strained the mast,

And many a leak was gaining fast,

And the pale steersman stood aghast And gave the conflict o’er. — S cott.

It was near the close of a cold December day a few years since that the little coasting clipper “ Carrier/’ Captain Tom Storms master, was cleaving its course through wave and weather down along the western shore of Chesapeake Bay.

The Carrier was a tidy little brigantine, owned by heir captain, and doing a brisk little independent business of her own in a circumscribed space — trading between the rich plantations along the Chesapeake and its tributaries, and their nearest city markets — Alexandria, Georgetown and Washington, oi Baltimore, or Annapolis.

She w'as now returning from Baltimore, where she had lately delivered a cargo of tobacco, Indian corn and wheat, and she was bringing back a miscellaneous assortment of dry goods, groceries, hardware, and so forth, consigned tc countrj'- tradesmen along the coasts, or to w’ealthy liouseholders who bought their provisions by wholesale from the city merchants.

All this merchandize w’as safely stowed away in the hold. The deck was clean and clear of all encumbrances except coiled ropes, folded sails and other necessary rigging, neatly put up.

The Carrier had also a clean little cabin, which did double duty as dining room and dormitory. Its centre was occupied by a good-sized round table, and its sides by sleepingberths — three on each hand. At one end was the stairs that led up to the deck, and at the other end the beaufet in which the captain kept his choice liquors.

This cabin could accommodate, besides the captain and his mate, four passengers, and Captain Tom Storms took all the passengers he could possibly procure; and not so much for the profit of their cdns as for the pleasure of their company ; for the merry master of the Carrier was of an exceedingly social turn; and would have taken up w^ith ‘^trumpery,’’ having no better company.

Now, however, on this blustering winter afternoon there was but one passenger belonging to the cabin, and he was on deck.

He stood aft, leaning carelessly against the taffrail, gazing forward dowm the bay, and exchanging an occasional W'ord with the helmsman.

As he takes a prominent part in this story, he must have a description.

He was a j'oung nian of about twenty-five years of age ’ yet he had the lodk of one who had lived much longer than that. He was of the medium height ; of slender, elegant and graceful figure ; but without the slightest fault of effeminacy. His features w'ere of perfect beauty. The higlu proud forehead, the straight, fine nose, the short, curved upper lip, the well-turned chin and stately throat, could only have been equalled by some poet-sculptor’s ideal of the young Apollo. This fine face was darklj^ broinzed as by long exposure to a torrid sun, and deeply shaded by masses of jet-black curling hair that drooped about his temples and neck, long, soft and shining as the ringlets of a girl. But the most remarkable and most attractive feature were a pair of large, dark, most mournful eyes, whose wistful gaze would have haunted you long, had you ever happened to meet it.

He wore a w^eather-suit, a coarse gray blouse and loose trousers ; and a broad-brimmed grey felt hat, now useless to him, because of the high w'inds, he carried in his hand, leaving his head bare, except for the beautiful black ringlets tliat were lifted and tossed with every blast.

This stranger, when in repose, seemed pervjtfled with an air of the profoundest melancholy. And looking on him you would be filled with pity and with wonder and conjecture, as to what could be the nature of the sorrow that had so deeply overshadowed his life.

But the moment he moved, or spoke, or was spoken to, this mood was easily and entirely thirown olf, and he talked, laughed, jested and enjoyed a jest, with the merriest of the merry.

Long evenings he was used to sit in the little cabin with the Captain, smoking cigars, sipping punch, laughing at old Storms’s sea jmrus, or spinning him equivalent ones, which lie pointed wnth such richness of humor, in lo^k, tone, gesture and pantomime, that the old salt’s ear-splitting peals of laughter might be heard above the roaring of the winds and waves.

And on these or like occasions, one w'ould wonder and speculate whether the stranger’s profoundly melancholy moods were not a mere matter of inheritance along with his

THE FAMILY DOOM.

large dark eyes, and long black curls, meaning no more than these.

But take him for all in all ” you could not have looked upon him with indifference, or talked with him without deep interest.

He w«as now standing, I said, leaning with his back to the taffrail, and gazing forward down the bay, and exchanging an occasional word with the helmsman.

The water view was rather worth looldng at. The clouds that had overcast the whole sk}^ all day long, like a dark lead-colored pall, now drew up a little way above the western horizon, showing a long back ground of brilliant golden sunset light, in which the distant objects looked preternaturally distinct.

The stranger’s gaze was fixed upon a far distant point running out from the Western shore into the bay.

Presently he drew a small telescope from his pocket, adjusted it and raised it to his eye. He looked long and wistfully at that distant point and then lowering his glass, turned to the helmsman and inquired

“ What place is that ? »

*‘That? Why, the mouth of Henniker’s Creek. It looks mighty near now in that light, which throws things forward so ; but, Lord bless your soul, it’s miles and miles away yet ; and I shouldn’t wonder, if this ’ere head wind holds, as we don’t make it to-night,” said the man.

Henniker’s Creek?.’ But I am speaking of that point which stretches so far out to sea.”

^‘Aye! That’s Henniker’s Point. We have to round that to go up the Creek — that is, when we do go there. We ain’t agoing this time ; we haint no business there.”

“There is a house — a very fine one, if I mistake not — in among the trees, a little back. I see its chimneys rising above their tops,” said the stranger, with his glass again to his eye.

AGAINST WIND AND WAVE.

‘‘‘Yes, sirj that’s Widowwille.”

Tliat’s — what ? ” demanded the young man, dropping his glass and turning sharply around.

“ Widowwille, sir,” calmly repeated the sailor.

“ Widow ”

— WilU. Yes, sir. Property of old Madam Jernyng* ham, sir.”

Widowville, did you say ? ”

Yes, sir — that’s it.”

What an extraordinary name ! ”

Well, sir, it is ; and that’s a fact.”

“ Who gave it that name ? ”

Xot it’s ‘ sponsors in babtism,’ as the kittychism says ; for, to tell the truth, I don’t think as the old place ever was christened, or even christianized. But, sir, you know as there is some places names themselves, — like ^Bloody Run,’ and ‘ Gallows Hill,’ and such. Hot to say as Widowwille basil t another name a.s was given it. Henniker House is w’hat it is called down in the dockerments.”

“ ‘ Henniker House ? ’ An old family property perhaps. An old colonial estate, probably, dating back to the days of Baron Baltimore and the earliest settlement of the country.”

“ ^ Pears so, sir. Leastwise, I’ve often heerd my grandfather say so.”

“ You are from these parts ? ”

Lord love yon, 3ms, sir ! I’ve been ’long 0’ the cap’n, man and boy, ship and shore, these fifty years.”

Then the captain is from this section ? ”

“ In course he is, sir. He’s got a plantation 3mnder ’bout ten miles below Henniker. Leastways, the brothers’ have. Mr. Dickson Storms, he works it. The captain, he took to the sea though he was the oldest brother. But, Lord love 3^0, sir, every other man you meet along these shores is a seafaring man j and the rest are everlasting a hankering arter it.”

T H E FAMILY DOOM.

“Tliat is apt to be the case with a coast population,” remarked the stranger.

At this moment the sun sank below the lowest layer of -clouds, lighting up the long line of Henniker’s point, and throwing out every object into almost magical distinctness.

“ A splendid scene ! What a picture for an artist I ” said the stranger, with enthusiasm.

“ It is a fine property, sir — a fine property, even now ! ” remarked the more practical mariner. “ There’s more’n two thousand acres on’t. Ko better soil in lower Maryland. Woods full of game, too, and waters full of fish.”

It is an old Maryland Manor, no doubt, — an old Colonial Manor, of which so few are remaining now in their integrity,” said the stranger, meditatively. Henniker’s

Creek — Henniker’s Point — Henniker’s House ”

And Henniker’s Hamlet as well, sir,” added the sailor.

“ All Henniker’s,” smiled the stranger.

Yes, sir ; and not a Henniker left alive to claim a inch on it.”

“No, And what’s more, not a man alive as ever

remembers to have seen a living Henniker, or even to have seen any one else who had seen one,” said the sailor, mj^steriously.

“ No ? How is that ? ”

“ Well, sir, they do say But I’d better hold my jaw,

I reckon. Least said soonest mended.”

“At any rate the manor has passed away from the Hennikers?”

“ Ages ago, sir, more than a century ago, if all they tell is true.”

“ And it is now in the possession of ”

“The widow Jernynghara — yes, sir.”

“And that is the reason it is called Widowvdle ? ”

“ Well no, sir j not that exactly. There’s a many place

AGAINST WIND AND WAVE.

might be called Widowville — if being owned by a widow would make it sich.”

Then why ’’ began the stranger ; but suddenly he

remembered he was asking questions, and he paused.

You want to know why it’s called Widowwille ? — why now, if you knowed a house where there was three live w'idows, of three generations, like tliree steps, straight down from mother to darter and grandarter, wouldn’t you think it was justifiable homicide to call the place Widowwille arter so many widows ? ”

should think it justifiable. But are there so many widows at Ilenniker?”

Woman’s Bights and Petticoat Government reigns there, sir, you may take my davy for it.”

Well ? ”

“Well, first there’s old Madam Jernyngham as I told you on, mistress of the manor. She is aged seventy, and is as brisk as a bee, as busy as a beaver. Then there’s her darter, Mistress Dering, the proudest w'oman in Mar^dand, aged fifty-four. Then there’s her darter agin. Mrs. Brooke, a handsome woman of thirty-six. Them’s the three widows as gives Widowwille its nick-name. And then there, last of all, is ^ Beauty.’ ”

“‘Beauty?’”

“ Yes, sir, ‘ Beauty,’ Berenice, Miss Brooke, darter of Mrs. Brooke, grandarter of Mrs. Dering, and great-granddarter of old Mrs. Jernyngham, heiress in right of all her foremothers to Henniker, and heiress in right of all her forefathers, to no end of land and of niggers, and of houses on shore and ships at sea.”

“Beauty and heiress — she is equally favored by nature and by fortune. Her’s is a brilliant destiny,” said the stranger.

“Aint it though, sir, — lor! some people have white bread cut thick and buttered on both sides like Berenice

T II E FAMILY DOOM.

Brooke ! And some have brown bread sliaved tbin, with no butter at all, like my darter Sukey — she who has neither good looks nor j’^et good money to carry her through the world. If I was to die to-morrow, she’d have to go out to service, so she would.’^

Here the voice of the captain was heard on deck.

‘‘Take in the fores’il there, boys! Look alive now I We’re going to have the devil to pay here presently \ ”

Then hurrying aft, he snatched the helm from the hand of the helmsman, exclaiming, as he turned it and altered the course of the vessel :

“ What the are you about Jack ? Letting your

tongue run before your wits, and the craft drive on to destruction ? Don’t you see that sandbar aliead ? In five minutes \ou would have had her aground! Go forward and help them with that sail.”

Crest-fallen the old sailor saluted his captain, and W’alked forward to obey orders.

With an anxious countenance, and with earnest attention, the captain held the helm in silence until he had steered the vessel clear of the impending danger.

Then, when they had left tlie sandbar far to leeward, and the captain was “ taking it easy,’’ the stranger who had felt somewhat guilty in allowing old Jack to bear all the blame, turned to apologize.

“ I beg pardon ! it was not the old man’s fault — it was really mine, for talking to him ” he began.

But Captain Storms stopped him.

‘‘ Oh, no apologies ! That old idiot never can do more than one thing at a time. Lor instance, he can’t talk and steer at the same moment.”

“ Can anj'- one ? ”

“Yes; I can, except when we are in danger. Then all my attention is required to mind the helm. You were talking of the young heiress of Henniker as I came up ? ”

A G A I S T WIND A N I) W AYE.

Yes, I was observing how brilliant was the destiny of a young lady so highly favored by nature and by fortune as to be both beauty and heiress at the same time.’^

Yes, poor girl,’’ sighed the captain.

Foot girl ?” exclaimed the stranger, opening his great black e^^es in astonishment.

Ah yes, poor child ! poor child ! Beauty and an heiress as she is, she might gladly change places with the plainest and poorest girl in Maryland !

“ But why ? You amaze me I Is she not happy ? HTappy ? The young, I believe, dream of love and of marriage as their best earthly bliss. It is right and it is natural that they should do so. Kow could you be happy if you knew that, blessed with beauty and with wealth, you were still forbidden all hope of love or of marriage, and doomed to wear out your life in solitude ? Tell me that ! ”

“No, certainly I could not be happy under such a dreadful doom. But is this fate to be hers?” exclaimed the stranger in a tone and with a look in which amazement, incredulity, and curiosity were all expressed.

“Assuredly, it is her fate. She cannot marry, she ought not to marry, since marriage, for her, would be crime.”

“ But why ? What ails the girl, that she must not marry ? ”

“ Young man, I said just now that Berenice Brooke, beauty and heiress, might gladly change places with the plainest and poorest girl in Marjdand. And now I tell you further, that I have a son, who is the last of his race ; but I would rather that son should die unmarried, and my race should become extinct, than that he should marry the beautiful, amiable, and accomplished young heiress of Henniker/^ said the captain, solemnly.

“ And yet there need be no mystery in that ! Your objection might well arise from some family feud, or individual pique.”

THE FAMILY D O O M.

at all. My family and that of Hennikerhave been neighbors and friends for generations. The ladies of Henniker are my very kind customers and I would almost die to serve them. I would do anything for them except marry mj” son to their daughter — a measure by the way to which thv'y would not be likely to consent.’’

“ Of course, now that my first surprise has passed, I am able to reflect that there really ma}^ exist omnipotent reasons why even a beauty and an heiress may not marry. A vein of hereditary insanity, for instance,” suggested the stranger, in a rather inquiring tone ; for he was full of curiosity and interest, though he forbore to press direct questions.

Captain Storms laughed.

“Well,” he said, “for strong brains, firm nerves, and sound, well-balanced minds, I will pit that family of women against the world. Wh^", they never become delirious in the highest fevers, and they never lose their presence of mind under any circumstances of surprise or trial. No, no ! no vein of insanity there ! You must guess again, my young friend.”

There may be a taint of scrofula, or other hereditary disease,” suggested tlie stranger.

Again Captain Storms laughed aloud —

“ Why sir, some doctors tell us that nine-tenths of the whole population of the United States are more or less infected with scrofula, in some one, or other of its multifarious forms. But I can tell you this ; that the ladies of Henniker belong to the tenth-ienth who are not infected. They are perfectly ‘ sound in wind and limb’ as ^mu say of horses. They never die of anything but old age, and not soon of that. Why look at the old madam ! Seventy years old, without a gray hair in her head, or an unsound tooth in her mouth ; brisk as any weasel and busy as a bee. No, there is nc inherited inalad}^ of mind or of body. No,

AGAINST WIND AND WAVE.

you must look farther for the cause, why the beautiful Berenice Brooke, heiress of Henniker can not marry.

The stranger reflected a moment and then said :

“ Perhaps the conditions of her heirship may be such, that she cannot marry under it, or if she does, she may forfeit her estate.”

“ Bosh ! would that keep any girl from marrying supposing she wished to do so ? ”

‘‘ No, I think not.”

Of course not ! Besides didn’t you hear me say that she might be glad to change places with the poorest and plainest girl in Maryland? Why should I have said that, if in order to marry she need only to make herself poor, and not plain ?”

“ Why, indeed ? ”

“ So you see it is not that either.”

“ It is an enigma ! ”

“ Of course it is ; to you ; but none at all to the poor child, a victim without any fault of her own.”

A victim ! Oh ! I have it now ! You are a Catholic community down here. She is pledged to the church, poor girl ! She is doomed to be a nun ! ”

Now that is the weakest conjecture you have made j^et my boy ! Her family are Catholics, but not devotees. There never was a priest or a nun among them. And she has not, and never has had, the most remote idea of taking the veil.”

“ Then, I have but one more conjecture to offer. She has perhaps already, one husband. — Some fortune-hunting scamp, who married her privately while she was at school and has since run away or got himself into prison, or something of the sort, eh? That theory would cover all the grounds ! That would make it a crime for her to marry again ! eh ? ”

Yes, if it were true ; but it is utterly false. The hand

THE FAMILY DOOM.

and heart of Berenice Brooke are, as I truly believe; entirely free. I have known her from her infancy. She has alwaj^s lived at home, and has seen almost as few of our sex as the sleeping beauty herself.’’

‘‘Then T give it up ! — No, I don’t either! Now I have it I ” exclaimed the young man, with sudden exultation.

“ Well, let’s hear it,” said the captain, incredulouslj".

“ There is a misfortune that you here hold in more abhorrence than the blackest crime. It is the cross of the African blood. Now, if there should be the faintest suspicion of the slightest streak of this blood in the young lady’s veins, of course it would ruin all her hopes and prospects of intermarriage with the pure white race ! ”

While his passenger spoke thus, the captain gazed on him in mute amazement. When the 3mung man ceased, the captain found his tongue and burst forth :

“ You — I If 3’ou were to breathe that thought down yonder, in her neighborhood, I would not give a ha’penny for 3mur life 1 She — she — a daughter of the house of Henniker, with African blood in her veins !”

“ A million of pardons ! But I was driven to the last possible conjecture for a reason. You tell me of a 3'oung lady of long descent, of high famil}’’, of great wealth, of amiable disposition, cultivated intellect, and immaculate reputation ; sound in mind and body ; free in heart and hand; beautiful in person; lovely in spirit; and yet who with all these incentives to love and marriage, must be doomed to single wretchedness, because, forsooth, in her case, love would be folly and marriage crime. Unless you are pla^dng upon my supposed credulity I do not know what you- mean,” said the young man, fixing his large dark e^^es upon the face of the skipper.

“ No ; and \mu never Will know w'hat I mean unless I tell you. How should you, indeed ? I am a, prosaic old fellow, not given to the marvellous, yet even upon me the strange,

AGAINST WIND AND WAVE.

tinaccountable, unmerited doom that has fallen upon the beautiful daughters of the house of Henniker has had its etfect,*’ said old Storms, heaving a deep sigh as he ceased to speak.

There was silence between them for awhile — silence only interrupted by the swashing of the waves against the sides of the ship, and the whistling of the wind among the shrouds — silence which the young stranger did not care at once to break. The sun was sinking below the horizon, and drawing down with it the splendidly illuminated picture of Henniker’s Point and Creek. The 3’'oung stranger fixed his mournful dark e\'es upon the fading glor^’ and watched it until it disappeared in darkness. He was dreaming of the fatal mystery that overshadowed the house and its race, and wondering what it could be. Night closed in, gloomj’’ and threatening, over the scene. Then the young vo^'ager turned to his companion and said :

1 think 3'ou promised to tell me the secret of the house of Henniker.”

Yes, I did,” said the captain, taking his pipe from his mouth, clearing his throat, and preparing to begin.

The stranger turned towards his companion an anxious and attentive face, from which his large ev^es glowed in the darkness as with a light of their own.

Go on,” he said.

is a terrible thing to tell — Pm blowed if it aint ! Hard old salt as I am, I never can think of it, much less speak of it, without a shiver. It aint known to many people — only to a few of the old folks, friends of the famil}-, like me, ^mu know, who don’t want to talk about it. And I say to you plainlj”, I would not tell you, only I have a sort of fancy for yon, and then again I know jmu’re only a bird of passage — here to-day and gone to-morrow — never likely to come backj and yon will listen to this strange story as you have listened to many other wonderful tales in

THE E A 1^1 I I. Y DOOM.

your waiiclerings through tlie world j things that you hare heard and forgotten — that have gone in at one ear and out at the other, as the saying is.’^

Tlie young traveller hewed in silence. But he did not think he should so soon forget the interest inspired by the unrevealed mystery that overshadow'ed the fate of tlie fair women of Hen niker.

“Even to you I feel a sort of reluctance to tell the secret,” said the captain hesitatingly and peering through the darkness at his companion, as if in the hope and expectation that his fellow-voyager would he generous, and release him from his promise to relate the mystery.

But the young man was now curious, not generous, and he would not open his lips for the desired purpose. So old Storms had nothing to do hut to proceed with his story.

“ I feel as if it was a sort of treason to the family to speak of these matters at all. I hardly know how I was led into doing it,” he began.

“ By your love of gossip, old friend,” mentally interpolated the young man.

“Any way,” continued the captain, “I tell you only for the reasons I gave. You aie a stranger, who certainly never did, and probably never wdll set foot on Henniker. But I w'ould die before I would tell the story to any one who would be likely to go babbling of it all over the neighborhood.”

“ There is nothing to be feared from me on that score.”

“No, and so you shall hear the secret. Now then, give me your utmost attention, for I must speak low. I would not for the world have any of the men overhear me,” whispered Captain Storms.

The old skipper need not have given this charge.

The stranger was attending, with every faculty of his mind and body strained upon the alert. His handsome head was bent forward, his pale, eager face gleamed dimly against wind and wave.

forth from its shadowy falls of black hair, his large, black eyes shone fiercely through the darkness, like those of a wild animal. He was listening with his whole soul up on the qiii vive. Was it only a vulgar curiosity to hear the secrets of a strange family that absorbed him thus? I think not.

“ As far back as I can remember, and how much farther back than that I can not say from my own knowledge, the

house of Henniker but Lord bless my soul and body !

here 1 am running a foul of that schooner in the dark ! Doing the same sort of thing that I swore at poor old Jack fordoing! So much for human justice and consistency,'^ suddenly exclaimed the old captain, as he quickly shifted tlie position of the helm and gave his whole mind to steering.

The young man shrugged his shoulders and drew back with a look of disappointment and annoyance. He would rather have run into the schooner and taken his chance of destroying and being destroyed than have missed the solution of that mystery of fair women which he so much longed to understand. He sat watching the skipper until thej" had steered clear of the impending danger and left the schooner far to windward, and then he bent forward eagerly, touched the arm of the captain and exclaimed :

“Well?”

“ What ? ” demanded old Storms.

“ The story ! the story ! the story ? ”

“ Oh blast the story ! I can’t attend to that now I We’re in a very ugly part of the bay — there are shoals along this coast and I must take the ship through them as well as I can. Besides the wind is rising again ! Don’t you hear it ? I knew that was only a temporary lull at sunset ? I was sure the devil would be to pay soon ; and so it will. Listen at that ! We shall have a gale before midnight.-— AiiOY THERE ! Take in all sail ! And Jack W eatherby,

T II E F A M I 1. Y DOOM.

come here and take the helm ! ” roared the captain, turning from his passenger to his crew.

And in another instant old Jack ran aft and seized the helm which the skipper relinquished only to hurry forward to see his orders carried into effect.

And so energetic, not to say profane were his appeals to Heaven and Earth and his consignments of everything and everybody to the Other Place, that in a very few minutes all the sails were taken in and the brigantine put in complete trim to weather the impending storm if she could.

And not a moment too soon.

Never had a gale sprung up more suddenly. The sky grew even darker than the night had alread}'- made it. The waves were lashed into foam and kindled into phosphoric sparks. The wind roared and howled over the troubled waters and skrieked and whistled among the rattling shrouds. The ship straining every timber and groaning like a living soul, struggled onward through the storm. The crew worked hard ; but the captain swore harder.