IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 7 // (/. & %' %! ^ I.C I.I U: 140 25 M 1.8 1.25 IIIIII.4 IIIIII.6 % 8 John Saint John and Anna Grey Atiiwi (»n\y liiid eyes of liii/.t'I, (Irciiiiiy hs uii Ai'iil) tiilc, liUstnms ;is the stur of even in the sky of sunset ))iil(' ; White and hzuit vcintMl her fort'liciul, with l)iiif|il curls of clu'slMut iTowiicd, l»»'d licr lips us lipc strawhcrry "mid llir suunncr grasses found. Sweetly round her in'irlisli li,i,'ui'e, sweetly full lier dimpled face, I'jNcry <;lanc'e and e\cry motion had a I'are, unstudied j;i'ac<'. In the ni,i,dits wlien winter wailinu; swept the swaying' forests dim. And tlie stately trees of shadow trembled in their every limh ; When tho furious sjirites that sally forth to ride the northern blast In the hours of darkness, shriekinif, swept the tiny cot ajiast, Anna (Jrey would rathei* listen to these strains so wild and ;frand Than to situff of famed musieian ])layiiii,' with a skilful hand. Volumes old of hea\ v ,i,dldin,n' to the land of e.xile brou<;lit, lioldinj^ many a jjoet's fancy, many a mighty thinker's thought, Many a painter's <,'or^eous vision, lo\'e-tale or adventure wild. Found a true and loxinj; studejit in tho so'dier's orphan child. Well slie lox'ed to hear her mother stoiies of her youth rej)oat : She was born where shinin^t Hudson doth the wave of ocean meet, In an ancient house manorial by her father's i^randsire planned, Girt by fiekls of <>Tain and ijrasses, orchards ])res.sed, And the striped and stairy l)ainier waved above a land of rest, Gerald Gro}' his broad possessions of swart slaves and sniilin",' lands Near Virginia's azure mountains forfeited to stranger's hands ; With his powerful sword-arm Ijuried under Yorktuwn's hapless held, Forehead scarred and spirit war-worn, but a heart that scorned to yield ; With his c(,nn'ades in the battle — cherished wife and infant band — Took the home his lot assigned him in a fertile forest land. But like plants too soon uprooted from the genial soil of birth, One by one those cliildren languishefl, one by one were borne to earth ; Then — a messenger of gladness — Anna came to cheer his hearth. Here to battle with the winter, fierce from the north-eastern main. Fell the giants of '''e forest, reap the liarvests of tiie plain. Long the brave but broken soldier had not leave from heaven to stay; From his weeping, stricken (hirlings suddenly he jtassed away. Wlien the sky of late September was aflush with sunset gold, And tlie fiery-foliaged maple lighted u[» tiie sombre wold, 10 John Saint John and Anna Grey: ^\'ith his locks fium liis pale furehciul hnishtMl, his oiu' hand on his breast, Looking toward the <^leaniiiig heavens, sank he to undreaininif rest. And the band of exiled soldiers, close beside the river l)ri^ht, Had a fon^st-shaded acre where to hide their dead from si<^ht, There of glorious resurrection they, in sure and certain trust, Laid his ashes unto aslies, and his dust unto the dust. At the time when opes my story half a score of yeai's had sped Hince the luisband niul the fjither slumbered with the saintly dead ; Still his pale and pensive widow and her fair and l)rilliant child Dwelt within the little cottage on the boniers of the wild. Well they lo\ed the swaying shadows and the forest melody ; Well they loved the sylvan beauty of the home so lone and free ; And its tiny casement, curtained by the vijie from woodland stream. Framed as fair a scene as ever dawned on pastoral poet's (h'cam. Toward the sunset and the river swift, the verdant hill inclined; At its base were low dark fir-trees evt>r moaning in the wiiul. And amid their heavy shadows opened to their eastern view A green way as broad and level as a castle avenue ; For the fathers of the countiy in its early, infant day. Thus o'er woodland, hill and valley planned to lead the kind's highway. But maturer counsel brought it neaivr to the smiling river, And the broad, unfinished passage, crossed by many a bridgeless stream, With its thistles and its mosses, and its firs to sob and shner 'Mid the wild life and the shadows, lay like highway of a dream. Past the belt of sounding fir-trees oped a broader, lower hill, Pasture clad, where flocks and cattle drank the brooks and grazed at will. Sleek and gentle were the cattle, white the tiocks that grazed thereon, Owned by half the landscape's owner, true; and hearty Hugh Saint John. A Romance of Old New Brunswick. 11 Often, shoulder unto sitouldcr, in tlic fierce and bloody fray, Fouj^'ht till faintin.u;, ;,'ory, weary, lfui,'h Saint .Volin and Gerald Grey. They in peace had loved as hi-others, they in war were conn'ades true. Here their lots were cast toj,'ether in the region wild and new, And as father or as brother careth for his very own, Cared the genei-ous, prospered soldier foi- the maid and widow lone ; So high heaven's enriching blessing on his happy mansion smiled. Shone upon his fertile meadows, glanced upon his pasture wild. There in summer swung the blue-bell, there in -June wind's scented breath Filoom of straw and pigeon bei-ry gleamed through grass and amber heath. Here and there were trees of shadow, maple of the honeyed juice, P>irchen white and spr(»ading oak tree, soughing pine and gummy spruce. At tlie foot of the pastures there shrank a low valley. The home of the pied-loon and sweet whip-poor-will ; A place in which birfls of the autumn would rally, Which theoverHown liver in spring-time would till. Beyond the damp valley were broad, fertile meadows Where wav(Hl in the autumn the rich yellow corn, And over their clover the billowy shadows Passed swift in the wind of the gay summer morn. Their border the river, a fringe of bright jewels. The highway stretched wavy and brown thro' their lands ; Now rose they in hillocks, now deepened in dingles. Or in green level swale met the grey of the sands. Sturdy orchards that, unfailing, put theii- spring-time blossoms on, Yielded red or russet fruitage to the home of Hugh Saint John ; 12 John Saint John and Anna Grey : l''(>l(ls fill- slice}) ;in(l stalls for cattle, eotes for feathery fowl wt'iv there, Aiiii)le hai'iis for store and shelter rjiised their ifahles in the air ; In the ]»laiti, old-fashioiuMl i^ardeiis white and damask roses blew, peony hloonied in early sunnner, hoUyhoek and lilac grew ; There the lowly \t'l\et }»ansy showed its puqde, poet-prai.sed, Throve tlie hai'dy orani;-e lily and the scarlet tulip blazed ; Ih-iiiging thoiii,dit of ha])py homestead, comforting and cniwning all, Looking through its many windows, rose the scjuare suljstantial hall. Towai'd the north a youthful city raised ambitious sj)ires and domes Strongly "gainst its thinking tir woods, showing white and happy homes. In tlie s(|uare, substantial mansion Hugh Saint ./olm dwelt not alone. Lighted up by many children was his cheei-y heartli's red stone. 0"ei' the eldest twenty summ(M's had dispensed their sunshine fair, Tall he was, broad-bi'owed and slender, .John Saint John, tlu' s(jn and heir. Often from tlie neighlxir city to the jjleasant mansicm came Stately judge and jtortly doctor, student i>ert, and silken dame, He who ruled for (Jeoi'ge of England, captains gay, and gri>v di\ iiu's. Huu'li Saint John had youthful daughters, Hugh. Saint John had ancient wines ; In the low and roomy kitchen, where the wood-Fu'e spai'kli'd red. For the beggar and tlie Indian, free tlie board and coucli were spread. Often spake the loyal soldier, " Friend or foe, or I'ich or {)oor. By my fault may nevei- wander faint or thirsty from my door." Miss iSuret, a lady numbering springs and sunnners four times ten, Taught the daughters of the household how to u.se the brush and jien. How to curtsey and eml)r()ider, \)\iiy the liarp and the guitar. Speak and write L'Hamond and Virgil, name the plant and point the star ; — Faultless was lier French in accent, and she curtsied like a (jueen ; Without jarring flowed lier music, true to life her painted scene. A Romance of Old New Brunswick. la I SliartT ill tlic {ilcasaiit studies, festive rout aiid like tlamo. They had danced in lighted i)arlor in the merry Christmas time ; They liad iloated in tlieir white bark 'neath the shade of woods suldime ; They had sung while hoary forests echoed back the joyful sti'ain, And the brooks and birds gav(> chorus to the free and glad refrain ; They had walked in gravelled garden 'neath the tender, beaming moon, When the apple tree and clicrry wore the bridal garb of June, And the moon ujxtii the waters made a slanting bridge of light. Whereupon the forest fairies might dispoit the i)almy night ; They in April e\es returning homeward marked spi-ing's eal•lie^t charms, 8aw the old moon oft presented in the lu-w moon's slender ai'iiis; Or, from wintry bantjuet coming, watched tlie stars that Hashed on high- Orini old bear and rampant Hon, all the giants of the sky. Careless were their hearts, and cheery as the jingle of the bells, As they rode on icy river, or tlirough snowy forest dells : Thus they loved the golden mornings shining o'er the self-same hills, The same golden evenings glancing into brilliant, rushing rills ; The same brown and scarlet autumns, when the reaper l)oun(l his sheaf, The same white and glittering winters, the same springs of wind ;uid leaf. Theirs were the same {^Ifii^'mt friendsliips formed in (hu's of genial truth. Yet far ditrerent were the spirits of tlie maiden and the youth : 14 John Saint John and Anna Grey: With a heart awake to duty, passions warm, but temper kind, Manly oahn and sense of justice tliat no seltisli mist could l)lind ; Planninj^ for his country's welfare, how to clear her forests dun, Lead her highways, s|)an hei- rivers, teach her red majestic son ; Ijoving well the orphan maiden who his dreams of future crowned, (Thougli no spokeii word of promise either to the other ])ound). From bright boyhood into manhood sprang the youth beside the shore Of the broad and sparkling river whose sweet saintly name he bore. Anna Grey had spirit tameless as the winter wind that fills Leafless trees along the meadow and the pines upon the hills ; And sh(; inly longed to mingle in those gorgeous scenes of earth Where brave knights of sounding title blend with dames of nobli; birth. Oh ! if she might tread the chancel of old haughty pictured fanes, Look on monumental abbeys rising on historic plains, Or on castles ivy-covered rising high on rocky steeps, With their halls where kings held wassail, and their moats anci dungeon keeps ; Oh ! to enter as the misti-ess love(i and flattered, sought and feared, In some old and wide-hailed palace in the by-gone centuries reared. With its orchards, parks and gardens, gateways grand and fountained springs. With its vaulted, ghostly chambers, winding stairs and modern wings. Oh ! to enter, gladly greeted, laughter-echoing banquet hall. Or saloons where merry music rang from pictured wall to wall ; Cliul in garl) of richest velvet, fringed with gold and wrought with pearl, As the bride of ruling statesman or of coroneted earl. But she'd waken from these dreamings, sighing, " This may never be ; 1 must wed my honest neiglibor, for he dearly loveth me. John Saint John hath fair position, kindly heart and fertile land. But lie lacketh shining talent, goldeix store and lineage grand. I must, even as his mother, wear a sable, silken gown Till with years of wear and bi-Mshing it becometh thin and brown ; A Romance of Old New Brunswick. 15 T must cliide my idling' maidens, chaffer with the merchant lunj? That his wares of lasting value I may purchase for a song ; Ne'er a trice forget my dairy or the produce of my slieep, Wake to care in early morning and aweary sink to sleep ; Yet, with all my thrift, be ready fr-'end or wayfarer tt) greet, Showing to the varied comers welcome warm or coldness meet ; And as truly seem a lady haggling o'er my maiden's hire As at game of chess or gammon, laughing by the parlor fire." Thus would Anna's wilful musing roam her future lot upon. And she oft would end then, sighing, "I must wed with John Saint John." Yet within her heart she'd whisper, "Should a stranger rich and grand, Brave as knight in olden story, chance to seek our forest land Here to woo me, he shall win me. T can shine in courtly life ; John need not be long in finding one more fit to be his wife." Hearty Hugh Saint John, who never friendship's .sacred trust betrayed, Even as his own fair daughters loved the gifted orphan maid ; But his stern, industrious partner with a growing coldness saw- How, with all her numerous household, Anna's wishes wei-e as law. Often when her son was absent would she speak in shrewish voice : "Strange that one with John's discernment mak(>s in love so weak a choice. Shining eyes or shining talents can't forever charm the heart ; In our young and rigorous country I'ach must bear a laborer's part. Anna Grey can dress her ringlets, hang a pendant to hei' ear. And refurbish for her wearing her weak mother's silken gear. Thus attired, the pretty maiden is in road or parlor seen With an air far more befitting for a marchioness or tjueen Than for one who should be striving h(»w an honest lot to gain. Marvellous that one so needy should be idle, gay and vain I Kitty Broadlands tends the dairy of her fathti's twenty kine, Yet she ran within the parlor e'en as well as Anna shine." 16 John Saint John and Anna Grey Thus ivlicvfd, the worthy iiiiitroii would soiuc tlirifty ihyiiic recite Of the erowiiiiif,' ^'ivice of neatness ov oi' time improved aright ; Of the exceUence of saving;, how the world is all a stage, And 1k)w little it doth ditl'er in what part we may en"a<'e • Uhether tliat of maid or mistress, I'oyal prinee or shei)herd swiir, Tf we do but aet it rightly we our meed of ])raise should gain. Thus tlu> days of eaily giilhood oVr the m.iiden flitted fast, And the years of o])ening maidiood foi- the youth sped swiftly past, - bringing many !i short-lived heartache, many a trivial care and pain. Yet tlieir hearts were free from thraldom as the forest bird's refrain : For tho.se ilays to them were happy with the nameless eharm of youth, With the joy of health and beauty, culture, innocence and truth. Duty-laden, for the mati-on, whirled around the busy years, For her house, her fold, her dairy, heaitfelt wer*> her hopes and fears ; And theirlap.se brouglit cares and honors for the noljle Hugh Saint John : NN'intej's gay and golden sunnners f<;r tlieir merry daughters shone. i A Romance of Old New Brunswick. 17 CMAPTKH ir. How often 1 (li'cuni of the loved jind the l<;st : Tliey spefik iiiid tliey move as of old ; But my inner heart knoweth what botiiid they lia\i> crossed, And ahoiit them there elin,i,'(>th the ^loom of the ghost, Th(> shroud and the grave-woini and mould. I dream of tlieir homes, and their eouehes are there, Their pictui'es, their books and theii- tlowei's ; lUit there gleametli a li,<,dit that I may not declare On the curtain's red fold, in the lamp's yellow glai-e, Fi'om worlds that are other tlian ours. I5y riv(Ts all silv'ry they walk in the ni,!,dit, As the moon is ascending on high. O'er the fields that to hand of the reaper are white ; But a so)-row intense for life's jirofitless tlii,'ht Possesses the wind whispering by. They walk through their gardens set bright with i)arterres. On the banks with wild vines over-run ; But the white bird a dirg(> in its summer-song bears. And most iieavy and sad are the odoi'ous airs, Tli'ere falleth a gloom from the sun. 1'*^ John Saint John and Anna Grey: N(»t oiiiT, us tli<' saints of tlic F>avens hoarsely blew the hitinj; blast ; And the full, dark clouds were opened that the ti'easures of the snow, White and <^litterinj», niij^ht be emptied on the frozen earth below. Then the ti-ees of leaHess branches shrieked like maniacs throuLfh the sky. And the pines anrl (irs and cedars moaned a wild and sad rejdy ; From behind the hills of shadow and through win(iing wood-way.s white There was roaring, there was ra\ in;; in the ghastl}' hours of night. O ye woodlands, ye have gloiy and a charm F may not sing, When across your leafless branches comes the pur{)ling of the spring ; And ye have, in truth, a glor\' when the sunniier reigns o'er all. When amid your leafy arches rich the rains of midnight fall. Wetting fern and lady's-slij)per, the grey lichiMi ti[)ped with red. The green clusterefl wild-giape trailing from the braiiches overhead. And ye woodlands, ye have glory when, with Hashing flags unfui'led, Like a king the sheaf-orowned Autunni treads the wide north-western world ; When the maple tlameth scarlet, and the bii'ch tree gleameth gold. A Romance of Old New Brunswick. 19 tho Ami the l)('fcli IrtM' and tlic cliciiv <,'l()\v in tiiitiiiL's iiiiiiiit'olil ; When the red jiiid I'ipciicd hcnv tVustctli iiiiuiy u forcsi hird, And the siiii<( of hii'd of autuniii tlirouj^li tin* drcainy aisles iy heard. Twas a sweet .SeptenilxT even and the niij,dity river lay Like a mirror 'twixt the forests that tlie early frosts tnade Ljay ; There the broad oaks saw theii- shadow ;Mid the yiant maples stood, Like to stui'dy, red-rolx-d captains elos(> heside the j^lassy flood ; And the tri'es of height less hauji'lity bore their batiners far and wide, Or like troops of trained soldiers stood in columns side by side. On this eve they held a ban(|uet at the mansion of my son^. Thither tl( oked from town and country youths and maids — a meriy throiiff — And the early j^uests arriving in the open doorway stood, Or with joyous shout and laughter woke the echoes of the wood As they walked beside the river and unniooi'ed tlie frail white bark, (.•rasping p.'iddles green to guide them o'er the waters smooth and dark. Some were strolling through the gardens, where, of all the wealth of Mowers, \'e!y few were left to brighten ev'u those early autunui hours ; I5ut the rustic seats were pleasant, pleasant were the gravelled way.s, Ai\d till! l)owers by fair deft fingers fornn^d in early summer days. Some went roaming through the orchard plucking red or russet fruit While the yellow gleams of sunset lit the tree.s from bough to root, lied clouds Hoated from the westward, pile on pile and towei' on tower, Forming castles, caves, cathech-als, graceful arch and airy bower. The fail' daughters of the household welcome gave to every guest ; Maude the eldest, blonde and gentle, stood of right before the rest. Hho liad planned for silken garments to bedeck her for tlie night, But the mother overruled her and slie walked in spotless white. Kitty Hroatllands by the river walked in pur})le silk arrayed — Rich it was and bought with cheeses she herself that sunnner made. m •JO John Saint John and Anna Grey \]y licr walked a youtlit'ul escort, somewhat less tliaii she in hi'i.;ht. (iloryiii,i; in a pea-icreen iieek-eloth and a vest of scarh't l)ri^ht ; On his eliin scant down was showiniC, and no tlttini,' l>lace lie Found For his lai'^e and i-estless fini,'ei's when they delved not in the ifround. Kitty kindly helped his shyness till he lost his look of scaie, Freely talked of father, mother, Sannny a!id the piehald mar.' : Dwelling on the hitter's \irtues, soon he felt no more alaiiii Thari if dri\ im,' hei- Ix'fore him on his fathei's thrivinif fai'm. lion.y a l)ankruiit captains dauifhter watched them from th" :;.ii'den hill With a look of scornful horror mejmt their veiy hearts to chill. Turninj; to hei' dashing escort : " Hear you, ensign, what tlp'V say ! Sur<> our hosts have lost their senses, tliither hiddini,' such as they. " Quoth the ensi a Kanter i)reach of duty, truth and love ; You will find him ere ten sunnners, I'll enyaye my sash and swoid, L(>adinj^ hands of holy pilj^rims with their faces Zionward.' This smart sally called loutl laughter from the youths and maidens nit^li — Kitty Broadland's youthful escoi't joined in it, he knew not why. Hut as still thv' guests assenil)led one loved form was wantijiy ther-, Foi' a week from home had tarried John Saint John, the son and heir. Much his .sisters watched to see hin) all that busy autunm day, And their motlier, though she chid them, slyly watched as well as they. And when all the gorgeous landscape was aglint with going day, Walked 'neath shades of oaks and orchards, Clare Saint John and Anna Grey. Toward the king's highway they hasted as they quit the festive hall. Soon along its wooded windings i'od<> two horsemen swift and tall : One they knew, their friend and brother — often liad they seeix him ride — But a fair-haired, knightly stranger gallojted gaily by his side. A Romance of Old New Brunswick. :i \\ ell f!ir falt'rinjf truth. as anri I All with kindly j^lance re<,'arded Mannaduke, the stranj^er tall ; Blandly dil(' door — Lady Carlctori's cliarinim,' daiif^'htcrs came the last with ihaisc and four. Well and Ion;,' the liouschold mother on her servants iia