Rebecca's journal

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

REBECCA'S JOURNAL;

Chapter I. HALLOW-EVE AND ELF-LAND

October 21. Yesterday was one of the most disenchanted days of my life, but on looking out this morning, all nature was so bright and smiling, I said, a la Eugenie deGuer in ^ "It is impossible but that something pleasant must happen to-day," and here comes this letter, in sweetest harmony with the mellow October glory.

Banks of the Kanawha,

West Virginia.

Dear Cotjsin Rebecca: Harry goes to Brooklyn, most unexpectedly this evening. Return with him, we pray I We will gather together all our hearts can prompt, and power execute to make you happy. Our beautiful country house is just finished, and Titania could not have chosen a more beautiful dell in w^hich to drop it. The Kanawha winding by our door ; the blue mountains in the distance, and the nearer hill-sides bathed in amethyst. Harry is busy superintending the mining interests most of the day, while we amuse ourselves with books and papers and magazines, of which we have abundant store, and in drawing, painting, writing, riding, boating, rambling, scrambling, and tongue-races, and dainty bits of work of both the useful and ornamental sort, &c., &c., &c. All the household say, " If Rebecca were but here, our cup of contentment would be full, " It is sweeter even than our home upon the Hudson in the olden time. Gomel come! come! You need no preparation. We live so entirely a la Diogene, there is no need of variety of apparel, or for its being a la mode. Come, darling, come. Ever devotedly, in greatest haste,

Kate Montgomery.

October 30. After a pleasant journey, good Cousin Harry and myself reached this home, nestled down on the bank of the Kanawha, and received sweetest welcome. The house was alight from garret to basement, and sent out streams of beckoning invitation. Far away we saw the beacon lights, and felt them steal into our hearts like warmth and cheer. Plainly as uttered words they said, "They are coming I coming I coming I We are watching ! watching I watching I For there are no other footfalls, wake such music in our halls, bo we've lighted every taper, that away through the night-vapor, they may read the glowing story in these golden rays of glory." As we neared the approach, a chorus of dear, familiar voices reached us, chaunting in glad accord, " Welcome! welcomel welcome!" and we seemed borne on the wings of sound to the door, where the dear ones clapped their hands, jumped up and down in childish fashion, and danced for joy. Yery merry was the supper, one spicy jest seemed to " tip the wink of invitation " to another, and stories of old friends and homes passed from lip to lip. The weariness of the long journey was forgotten, as we burned the " midnight oil " together.

Yerily have they chosen a lovely spot whereon to set up their tabernacle. A sense of coming rest and refreshment is borne to me on every breeze, — of sweet repose and quiet, as if we had come away from the great Babel, to be soothed in the kind arms of dear Mother Nature.

My room is dainty enough for a sylph, with its soft, flowing, muslin curtains, looped with rose colored ribbons. A carpet of white ground, with bunches of delicate flowers sprinkled in graceful profusion everywhere. Walls tinted couleur de rose, and the tasteful little appointments made by loving hands of the same sweet hue.

From the window where I write, thou see'st, dear Familiar, the gliding water, the glorious mountains, fleecy clouds floating on the upper sea of blessedness, and the hazy atmosphere of the season mellowing and softening all. Here do I trust to pour into thy listening ear many a pleasant story. This the first page to the most restful chapter of my life. In Brooklyn without these friends, who since my orphanage have become part and parcel of my life, I felt enveloped in such an atmosphere of loneliness, it seemed it must be palpable, and cold, and chilling to all who saw me. As I entered these doors, it fell from me as a garment, and I "put on my singing robes again." Here, there is no repression, no misapprehension. Here, as a friend said, one seems to " take off the flesh, and sit in the soul." The air is instinct with the realization of life having been given for a blessed purpose. Of the dear G-od having made all things beautiful from which He would have us draw out all the joy and glory that we can. Not for idle pleasure do they live, these blessed friends of mine, but for the attainment each moment of all the culture and acquirement and growth that they may. Cousin Harry is a man of rare culture, and his bonnie Kate, a very miracle of grace and beauty, " never opening her mouth without dropping pearls," while her rare accomplishments in music and drawing are a daily joy and charm. The dear Aunt Kuth, whose deep love for me has "its root in my dear dead mother's grave, '^ seemeth ever fair as an angel, and is enthroned as one, within the home.

Her beautiful silver hair curls lovingly about her face, as if it felt the delicious "serenity and peacefulness that abides there in ever undisturbed beauty. A smile seems ever trembling upon her lip, while the sweet beams of her eyes are as an ever new revelation. Majestic and stately in bearing, she has been from childhood to my imagination a born Queen, and often have I wondered what her life-story can have been, that she is not crowned and sceptred in some home, instead of treading life's path alone. Alone, yet not alone, for everywhere her presence is hailed as blessed. We all love to have sunbeams come creeping into our dwellings, and she is so kind as to say, no mother was ever more blessed in her daughters than she in her nieces, of whom in this small household she numbers three, beside Kate and myself. Alice, a fair-haired maiden of eighteen ; Theodora, a brunette, twencythree or four, and Constance, nineteen, plain, but highly cultured. Nor must we forget the children. Arthur, a bright, noble boy of sixteen ; Max and Guy, boys of nine and ten, and the sylph-like Utile maidens, Kathie and Margie, of six and eight. We shall be entirely dependent upon each other for society, except we make an occasional escapade to the lifteen miles distant city, and now and then, they tell me, agreeable calls from three or four cultured gentlemen, who, like Harry, have left their accustomed city habits to brin^' their well-trained energies to the development of these wondrous mines. For some this would seem a dreary outlook for the long winter closing in, but to us, if we cannot make the winter beautiful, we feel we must be poor indeed in resources, and the burden of my song to you, dear Journal, will be, how we make it beautiful and useful, and rich to each and all.

October 31st. It is late, dear Journal, but as no kind spirit has come to anoint my eyelids with the dews of sleep, I will e'en pour into thy faithful bosom the story of the evening. The day was mostly spent in disposing my belongings, in a manner best adapted to the needs and comfort of a winter lurking place, and after a cosy dish of tea, we were gathered eufamille in the charming salon,, when a ring at the door (which in country homes, where calls are few, wakens a sense of expectancy through the house, until answered) surprised us, and still more surprised were we, when the gentlemen from the Glen came in. As our one resource for society outside ourselves, you can imagine dear Faithful, I looked eagerly for a first impression.

Mr. Montague, tall, and very elegant, black hair and eyes.

Mr. Graham, medium height, brown hair and eyes, with peculiarly pleasing address.

Mr. Carlton, fair as the "fair-haired Harold" of old, of most agreeable presence.

Mr. Mortimer most distingue, in height, and form and feature, with an ever varying expression of face, at every ripple of thought passing over him.

After the first courtesies of introduction, Mr. Graham remarked, " AVe found it dull, keeping bachelor's hall on All Hallow Eve, and could not resist the temptation of coming, Mrs. Montgomery, to pass it in your bower of fair ladies."

"We were wondering before 3^ our entrance, how we might suitably keep the time without a single Carpet Knight," she replied.

"Perhaps the inspiration came from you, for with one accord, when trying to settl3 ourselves for the evening, we exclaimed, Halloween here, is like ' the play of Hamlet, with ' Hamlet left out. ' Let us sally forth, like the Good Knight San Mancho iu search of adventures on this

'night to be observed,' and here we are, on the qui vive for a peep into futurity, searching there for theDulcineaswho hold our threads of destiny."

"We will do our spiriting gently," responded Mrs. Montgomery, " that there may be nothing too Quixotic in the search."

" Saw you any fairies ?" asked eager Alice, "beneath the moon's pale beams as you came hither ward ?"

"None," responded Mr. Montague, " though as we came along the winding banks of the Kanawha, we felt its romantic nooks were just the ones where fairies light, but it was scarcely the witching hour."

"In my rides," said Constance, "I have singled out many spots as favorite and fitting haunts for fairies, and to-morrow propose visiting them to look for fair}^ foot-prints."

"Let us go! Let us all go !" we exclaimed in full chorus. " Where you lead we'll follow, but it must be in the early dawning before the dew is off", or the sun will efface the trace of their lightsome trippings."

"With the 'first glance that breaks from morning's eyes,' I will be ready," said Constance.

"Provided," said Mr. Carlton, "the Elfin folk do not cast such spells and charms about us upon this night, as to bewitch us too thoroughly."

"No provisos allowed." exclaimed

Mrs. Montgomery, ' ' even though ridden by witches, good knights are undismayed. The glaive has been cast down, you can but pick it up, but the charmed moments fly. Now, shut your eyes, and haad in hand go to the garden gate, the path is straight, so you need not fail, and reaching down with eyes tight closed, pull each a stock of cabbage, and bring them in to me."

Merrily all clasped hands, and passed through the door leading into the garden, with Mr. Montgomery in front as pilot, and to see fair play, while our fair hostess went to order the oatmeal cakes and butter, which are the indispensable delectabilities of a Halloween supper.

" A spell of silence, I cast over you all," said our leader, and silently we followed the sound of his footsteps down the broad path. "Xow pull, one and all, the first stock you meet with, without moving an eyelid."

Gaily we laughed, as in pantomimic eagerness, w^e stooped and pulled the prophetic kail, and bore it triumphantly into the house, where dear auntie, with her ever ready sense of nice proprieties, had cleared the ample library table, and covered it with a cloth, from which the earth and roots could easily be shaken, after shadowing forth our destinies. "Blink not an eye," she said, "till you have ranged yourselves about the table, and deposited the homely prophets."

Opening our eyes, a peal of laughter, like the chiming of joy-bells rang out, as the uncouth shapes with loose earth clinging about them, appeared resting in front of each.

"Aunt Ruth must be the sibyl to read these leaves of destiny," said Kate, " while Harry and I station ourselves at either end, and watch the working of the charm."

" I will pass round the table in order," smilingly said Auntie. ''Theodora, yours is tall and straight, and speaks of a knight like the goodly cedar. No earth clings to the root, showing him * lord of his learning,' and no wealth beside."

' ' Mr. Montague, yours too, is tall and straight, betokening a stately Queen of Hearts, and the mass of earth about it, speaks of solid charms."

"Mr. Graham, yours is short, and an abundance of what the French call ' matter,' hangs about its stock."

" Alice, yours too is short, and encumbered with the ' embarrassment of riches, ' so we can hardly see its shape."

" Rebecca's tall as the ' Evergreen Pine,' 'Gaily it spreads and broadly doth grow,' while enough of Mother Earth adheres to promise competence and comfort."

" Mr. Carlton, yours is graceful and shapely, the most perfect one of all, but nothing of the 'earth, earthy,' clings about its fibres."

"Constance, yours is gnarled and twisted, but full of strength, of fine proportions, and laden with earth."

"Mr. Mortimer, last but not least, yours is a mass of delicate fibres, fine almost as frrapo tendrils, each earth covered as with a coating of moss."

" In every one there lurks a fairy, who thread by thread is spinning out the woof of destiny for each. From each I break a tiny hi:, as a talisman, and bid these fair ladies encase them in morocco, at the first interlude of leisure, that each may bear them with them, in memory of this haunted hour, bidding you guard and keep them as the devotee an Amulet."

'•Bind mine with blue, I pray," cried Mr. Montague, " in token of true blue devotion to my ' Queen of Hearts.' "

"And this with 'celestial rosy red,'" said Mr. Graham, "as the hue of mine."

"Mine with Opaline, in token of the concentration of all hues in the fairy sprite the sibyl pledged to me," exclaimed Mr. Carlton.

"I choose," said Mr. Mortimer, "a Yiolet Shrine for my Amulet, for there I lay the purple of my heart and life."

" And girls yours should be bound in green, as you must ' wear the willow, ' till your good Knights appear," cried cousin Harry.

Soon workboxcs were opened, and ribbons and bits of morocco produced, Aunlie and Kate profiering to do double duty, in covering two a piece with the green, while we each, took one of the cavaliers' to enshrine.

" Say a charm, say a charm, over mine. Miss Eebecca, as you draw the thread in and out," said Mr. Mortimer.

' ' I once saw a company of fair ^uns in a cloister, covering Agnus Dei's. They enshrined holy words in dainty covers for the good of the soul, 3'ou for our hearts," said Mr. Montague.

"I shall w^ear mine next my heart," said Mr. Carlton, ' ' and no ' sparkle of fine love ' shall ever penetrate it until it come from the fairy-like little sweetheart promised me."

"I too will bind mine upon my breast," cried Mr. Graham, ''and when the good fairy fulfills the pledge, will carve it on my crest."

Thus words fell trippingly from the tongue, until the Amulets were finished, when Aunt Kuth in sibyl fashion, said over them a murmured charm and spell, and bestowed each on the rightful owner.

"Xow, burn the nuts," called Kate, leading the way into the Dining Saloii, where a bright fire was blazing. " Each select two nuts from the heaped dish upon the table, name, and lay upon the table, name, and lay upon the fire, and as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the wooing shall be." Casting them in two and two, named for a lad and lassie, we watch for the moment of divination, when, lo, all burst together, and in a general conflagration seemed all to burn, and start, and crack at once.

'' The spell is broken, the lights burn blue," said Auntie, "the faries love not 'twice told tales,' though 'thrice the brindle cat has mewed,' they will not come again."

"Let us be content," said Constance, "and sing a Hallow-Eve chant, in honor of their visit."

Gathering about the piano, in rich, full chorus, they sang, "as if to breathe were music," the fitting Vy^ords :

"The Autumn's fairy gold turns pale,

It freezes ; but no frost of earth

The seasons of the soul can blight.

Here bloom at once a Spriug of mirth,

A iSummer-tide of joy to-night :

Though days grow short, the fire's a sun,

Tliat will not set without our leave,

Our hearts are glowiug every-one,

In the beams of Hallow-Eve !

And sure this is a fairy hour

That lets tlie ghostly world retrieve,

A little while its ancient powei:,

In right of Hallow-Eve ;

Much joy an 1 pain have cause more vain,

'i ban ours of Hallov/-Eve !

Come then ! let none look sourly grave,

Nor croak this niizht in rusty talk !

Let cares take fliii:ht before our stave,

As ghosts at crowing of the cock !

How many things that are indeed

Mere ghosts and shadows men believe.

The sole, true suliptance ! men, whose creed

Despisrs Hallow-Eve,

Without one Hallow-Eve,

Or time like Hallow-Eve,

Of loving mirth — how great the dearth, Is theirs — dear Hallow-Eve ! "

" The oatmeal cakes are smoking on the table," Kate cheerily called as the last note died awa^-, and laughable was the zest and relish with which the " bonny cakes of Scotland " were devoured by those who fain would mingle with the Elfin folk. Merry quips and cranks of wit flavored and saucecl our well-buttered cakes, 'till Auntie closed the bannock banquet by saying, "If you are to brush the dew from the heather in the morning, you had better seek your pillows. Fairies never yet were seen by dull and weary eyes," and suiting the action to the word, she began handing one and another their scattered belongiugs, in her sweet, helpful way, while Harry almost forcibly detained the "captive Knights," as guests, pledging himself to sound a reveille, and have the steeds equipped at the fitting moment, adding gayly in his rich recitative,

" The night is Hallow E'en, my friends, The morn is Hallow Day, And gin ye dare your true love win, Ye surely here must stay.

" The night is good Hallow E'en, When fairy folk will ride, And they that wad their true love win, At our house they maun bide."

The guests at his bidding, mounting the stairs, caught up the strain in response, and sang —

" The morn is Hallow E'en n'c^ht,

The Ellin Court will ride, Through En2:land and thro' all Scotland,

And"th rough the warld wide. Oh, they beyin at sky sett in,

Ride a' the evening tide."

I ought to be sleeping, dear Familiar, but spirits, white, blue, and gray, all are whispering and throwing pictures, as from magic lanterns on my brain, of figures tall as evergreen pines. What charm will exorcise them ? I will lay me down, and see if they can force their way into dreamland, and " tickle my nose while I sleep."

iS^ovember 1st. It has been a golden day, dear Journal, written as with a sunbeam.

Early in the dewy morning we were cap-a-pie for adventure. Theodora and Mr. Montague leading off at full gallop, followed by Constance and Mr. Graham, Alice and Mr. Carlton, Mr. Mortimer and myself.

'' A draught of more sparkling, exhilarating November was never quaffed, " said I, as we rode on at a brisk canter.

" The morning is most fitting for such an escapade," said my chevalier. "All nature is beautiful, as if under a spell of enchantment."

" Surely no spirit of evil dare walk abroad in such holy time, 'J I returned.

" The fairy folk, whose trippings we are seeking to discover at this unwonted hour, may not rank us among spirits of good,"

he replied, " though it seemeth all fair things must love to welcome spirits suchfis those that make an Eden of Montgomery House."

" It is a beautiful Home, ' ' said I ; " and like going down from dusty streets into a temple, to enter and breathe its atmosphere, and watch the ' daily beauty ' of the lives of its high priest and priestess."

"Aye, verily is it, and now they have gathered such an array of vestal virgins to keep the holj flame alight upon its altar, our brotherhood will ofcen bow at its shrine, craving to assist at ceremonies such as those of yesternight," was his gallant rejoinder.

"I doubt not you will find them ever hospitably inclined. They ' welcome the coming,' and 'speed the parting guest,' with a rare grace and courtesy. And the occasions for ceremonials are not infrequent, as the faithful observance of holidays holds a high place in their home creed. Every birthday, name-day, wedding-day, and kindred anniversary is a red4etter day in their calendar, and celebrated duly as those prescribed and set apart by the Church and world," said I.

"It is a charming custom, and wins my admiration," said he.

" It is a wise bit of philosophy, too," I rejoined. "If, as some modern Solomon hath it, the secret of accomplishing anything by j|pi"d work, is the knowing when and how to recreate, the more holidays the better, surely."

"Yes," was his reply, "the utilitarian spirit is overreaching itself, and crippling its own energies, by blindness to the need in our nature of divertissement and change."

" There was never truer word spoken," I returned eagerly, " and then these dear home festivals draw out and cultivate the sweetest sympathies and instincts of our being, and bind families together with cords stronger and more enduring than those of iron."

"Aye," was his response, and an expression of tender seriousness overspread his fine face ; " I see, it carries friendship to its noontide point, and gives the rivet of eternity."

Our horses had relaxed their pace, in harmony with the gradually deepening tone of our conversation, and we were entirely oblivious of the space increasing between us and our companions, until aroused by a merry shout, and Mr. Carlton's gay voice declaring us "spell bound." As we reached the party, who halted to await us, Mr. Graham said,

" I was remonstrating with Miss Constance upon bringing us out upon so weird an errand, as we missed you, and am more than ever convinced it was an uncanny thing to do, to be out before the cock-crowing to spy out the secrets of fairydom, for had we not broken the charm by our voices, some will-o'-the-wisp had soon beguiled you into an enchanted castle. Keep close hereaiucr, for I feel the presence in the air of unseen Calibans on the watch for fair Mirandas."

Mr. Carlton exclaimed —

" I begin to feel e'rie, by all the hokey pokeys. Puck and his train have anointed my eyes !"

"And my ears," cried Mr. Montague ; "fori hear the sound of the elf-knight blowing his horn !"

"I 'dreamed a drearie dream,' last night," said Mr. Mortimer.

" I knew it I I knew it !" exclaimed Mr. Graham ; " it was a warning ; if w^e had not called, he would have been carried away by the fairies to the castle of the King of Elf-Land."

" Who knows but he is even now under the spell ?" asked I possessed by the merriest mood, and gaily I sang the roundelay—

" I am the Queen of fair Elf-Land, That am hither come to visit thee. This is the road to fair Elf-Land, Where thou and I this uig-ht maun gang-. But, mortals, ye maun hold 3'our tongue,

Whatever ye may hear or see. For, if you speak word in Elfln Land, Ye'Il ne'er get back to your ain countrie, A' the blude that's shed on earth, Rins throug-li the springs o' that countrie."

"Angels and ministers of grace defend us I I hear their bridles ring !" said Mr. Montague, as we spurred our horses into their swiftest pace, and went twinkling o'er the green, singing —

" Over hill, over dale, Throuo:li busli, through briar,

Over park, over pale.

Through flood, through tire,

I do wauder everywhere."

As we drew rein beneath a greenwood tree, exhilarated by our brisk gallop, Mr. Mortimer, with his courtly accent, said — "It were easy, Miss Rebecca, for me to make it? a part of my credo, that you were indeed a fairy sent here to seek dew-drops, ' and hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear,' and I should not be surprised to see you ' creep into an acorn cup, and hide you there !' "

"Let me return the dainty flattery," I said. ' ' I could believe you had the power to put a ' girdle round the earth in forty minutes.'"

"Everything strengthens my belief, for verily this is the very ' bank whereon the wild thyme grew,' on that midsummer night so long ago. ' Come, now, a roundel and a fairy song !' "

And merrily we sang catch after catch, refrain and melody, till the remainder of the party coming up, Mr. Graham exclaimed —

" It smells of fairies. Look here ; I see the rings, and charmed circles where they 'featlyfoot it here and there,' it is but our coming has put them to flight."

" We have had no time to look for elves, or nymphs, while spurring on to seek you," said Mr. Carlton. "As amends, you should reveal what you have seen, and heard, and felt."

" Oh I oh I indeed, a thousand pardons," cried I, blushing, as the consciousness of the chase I had led them, under the dominion of the wild spirit of fun, flashed over me, " it was a fit of ' very midsummer madness' in iJsovember.

"Would that it might last all through life," said a voice so tremulously tender at my ear, as to make my own tremble in response, as feigning not to hear I said in a merry way, to the others, "your visual orbs are not sufliciently purged from film to see old fairyland's miraculous show.

Fearing it might be so, I brought the poet's rhyme to call it up, with little thought of myself enacting the part of

Culprit Fay." Drawing from the pocket of my habit, Drake's charming creation, I proposed dismounting, and encamping, while one and another "lent to the rhyme of the poet the music of their voice."

Soon we were ranged in a mystic circle, on one of the loveliest banks ever beheld. Wild flowers springing everywhere, of gorgeous hues, in each of wiiiich might lurk a sprite. Graceful trees, fit homes for Dryads, as the silvery streams for nymphs, while in the distance the manyhued rocky hillsides seemed the very hiding-places for tricksy trolls. The harmony of word and scene was perfect, and the very atmosphere seemed in sympathy with us. Mr. Montague read the first nine verses. Then Mr. Carlton took up the strain, and carried us dreamily aloui^with him nine canlos more, ^Yhe^ Mr. Grab am took the bock lor the next nine, aud Mr. Mortimer finished. The iniiuence of the sacred nine was complete. ^N'ever did the exquisite poem seem so beautiful, and at the close, some moments passed in unbroken silence. At length Theodora said, " This wonderful creation has rendered the walk upon the Hudson, that occasioned it, memorable forever. I always bless the frhosts of Paulding and Irving, as well as Drake, often as I think of it. Hereaiter I shall also associate with it the memory of this hour. It will be like one of those pictures of Jean Paul, surrounded by floating clouds, all of which are angels' faces, but so soft and shadowy, they must be sought for to be perceived."

"Yes," said Mr, Montague, "this group will be as much a part of the poem now, as the cherubs are a part of the picture of the Madonna de San Sisto."

"The second 'Culprit Fay ' will live longer in my memory even than the first," said the voice at my ear.

In my confusion, lest my wild spirits had led me too far, and precious little maiden modesty should be imputed to poor Ilebecca, I had sat silent as a sphinx, and now, hurriedly taking the book from Mr. Mortimer, I said, springing to my feet, "'The cock has crowed, and the Fays are gone. ' Breakfast awaits us at

Montgomery House, let us mount and away.^"

Alice followed my action, saying, " I am ready, Mr. Carlton," and as he ^lifted her lighily to her saddle, I heard him say, " We will away, but never shall I forget the joys of fairy ground."

Soon " light to the crouper the fair ladies were swung," and we were briskly retracing our steps, drinking in exhilaration with every breath, until almost intoxicated with joy. Keeping together, and calling to one another and jesting, 'till we reached the open door, where stood our host and hostess, drawn to the spot by the clattering of hoofs upon the carriage drive.

Cousin Harry called out merrily —

'* By tho pricking: of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes, Open locks, whoever knocks."

With eager voices, one and all told gayly the story of the ride, quite unsparing of the "Culprit Fay," who now, as she sits here quietly writing, fears the mad spirit of fun has led her to do things unmaidenly and forward.