Mrs. Harry Coghill - A Canadian Heroine, Volume 1
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Mrs. Harry Coghill >> A Canadian Heroine, Volume 1
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It was at this moment of their success, that accident threw in their way
a girl who was evidently well-born and susceptible, and whom a few
inquiries proved to be an heiress. At first, Bailey had had some thought
of himself winning this prize; but he had wit enough to see that he
would not succeed, and that Christian might, which would be equally to
his advantage. Christian cared little about it, but he let Bailey guide
him, and so the prey fell into their hands.
So far, the story told had been intensely personal, and of the kind
which must inevitably be coloured by the teller. From this point, Mrs.
Costello was no longer leading her daughter through places and scenes
entirely strange. She paused, and faltered, yet began again with a sense
of having surmounted her greatest difficulties, and from hence is
perhaps the best narrator of her own life.
"When I found out," she went on, "how different the reality was from my
dreams, I took no care to hide, either from Bailey or my husband, the
horror I began to feel for them both. Christian took my reproaches
carelessly--his education had not prevented him from regarding women as
other Indians do--to him I was merely his squaw, the chief and most
useful of his possessions, and it made no difference to him whether I
was contented with my position or not. But Bailey was not quite so
insensible; and when I spoke to him with the same bitterness as to my
husband, he retorted, and took trouble to show me how my own folly had
been as much to blame as their schemes, in drawing me into such a
marriage. He explained to me precisely how, and why, I had been
entrapped, and made me perceive that I was utterly helpless in their
hands. There came, about the middle of our voyage, a time when I sunk
into a kind of stupor; worn out with the misery of my disappointment, I
gave up my whole mind to a gloomy passiveness. Morning after morning I
crept out on deck, and sat all day leaning against the bulwarks, with a
cloak drawn round me, seeing nothing but the waves and sky, and
indifferent to wind or rain, or the hot sun which sometimes shone on me.
All this time I had taken no notice of the Indians, who for their part
avoided me, and left me a portion of the deck always undisturbed. But
one day as I sat as usual vacantly looking out to sea, I was disturbed
by the cries of a child. The babies, although there were four or five in
the party, were usually so quiet that the sound surprised me. I looked
round, and saw the women gathered together in a group, consulting over
the child, which still cried as if in violent pain. At last I got up,
and went to the place, where I found that the poor little creature, a
girl of about a year old, had fallen down a hatchway and broken her arm.
She had lost her mother in England, and was in the care of an elder
sister, who hung over her in the greatest distress, while the other
women were preparing to bandage the arm. I had had no idea till then how
wretchedly these poor creatures were huddled together, without even such
comforts as they were used to; but when I found that it was impossible
for the sick child to be cared for in the miserable place where they
lived, I began to come to myself a little, or rather to forget myself,
and contrive something to help others.
"The child's sister, Mary, spoke a little French, so that we could
manage to understand each other; and with shawls and pillows, we made a
comfortable little bed, in an unoccupied space close to my cabin. There
we nursed the poor little creature, which got well wonderfully soon, and
Mary became my firm and faithful friend. It was she whom you saw a few
weeks ago, when she came, hoping to bring me a useful warning.
"We were six weeks at sea; and when we reached Quebec, and had to take
the steamboats, a new kind of misery began for me. I shrank from the
sight of our fellow-passengers, for I felt that wherever we went, they
looked at me curiously, and sometimes I heard remarks and speculations,
which seemed to carry the sense of degradation to my very heart. But
Mary and her little sister had done me good. I had already lost some of
my pride, and began to remember that, however I might repent my
marriage, I had entered into it of my own will, and could not now free
myself either from its ties or duties. My husband seemed pleased with
my change of manner towards him; he was not unkind, and I hoped that
perhaps when we reached his own tribe, and I had a home to care for, my
life might not yet be so hopelessly wretched as it appeared at first.
"The last part of our journey was made in waggons. When we were within a
few hours' distance of Moose Island the others went on, while Bailey,
Christian, and I, remained at a small wayside tavern. It was a wretched
place, but they gave me a small room where I could be alone, and try to
rest. The one adjoining it was Bailey's, and late in the evening I heard
him and Christian go into it together. The partition was so thin that
their voices reached me quite distinctly, and I soon found that they
were disputing about something. From the day when, on board ship, Bailey
had told me how they had entrapped me simply for the money to which I
was entitled, there had never been any allusion made, in my presence, to
the profit they expected to make of me. I could hear now, however, as
their voices grew louder, that this was the cause of their dispute. I
caught only broken sentences, and never knew how the quarrel ended, for
in the morning Bailey was gone, and I had learned already that it was
useless to question Christian. I had written from Quebec to my father.
The only answer I received was through his solicitor, who formally made
over to me all my mother's fortune; but, of course, this did not happen
until some weeks after our arrival at Moose Island.
"We remained three or four days at the tavern, and then removed to the
island, where a small log-house had been got ready for me. It was clean
and neat, though not better than the cottages of many farm-labourers in
England, and I was so humbled that I never thought of complaining. It
stood on a small marshy promontory at one end of the island, at a
considerable distance from the village, and was more accessible by land
than by water.
"In that house, Lucia, you were born; but not until three years of
solitude, terror, and misery had almost broken my heart.
"As soon as ever we were settled in our home, which I tried to make
comfortable and inviting according to my English ideas, Christian
returned to the wandering and dissipated life he had led in the last few
years before his journey to England. He was often away from me for many
days without my knowing where he was, and I only heard from others,
vague stories of his spending nights and days, drinking and gambling, on
the American side of the river. At first, he always came back sober, and
in good humour, and never left me without sufficient money for the few
expenses which were necessary; but within six months this changed, and I
began to suffer, not only from ill-usage, but from want.
"The missionaries, of whom I told you, were still on the island when I
arrived there; but although they pitied, and were disposed to be kind to
me, I could not bear to complain to them, or to make my story a subject
for missionary reports and speeches. You see I had a little pride still,
but I do not know whether it would not have yielded to the dreadful need
for a friend of my own race, if events had not brought me one whom you
know, Mr. Strafford.
"Although the island was large enough to have maintained the whole
Indian population by farming, it remained, when I came there, entirely
uncultivated, and hunting and fishing were still the only means the
people had of supporting themselves. The consequence was, that at times
they suffered greatly from scarcity of provisions, and this naturally
brought disease. The year after my marriage was a bad one, and the
women and children especially felt the want of their usual supplies. A
great many of them left the island, and tried to find food by begging,
or by selling mats, and baskets, at the nearest settlements. The misery
of these poor creatures attracted attention, and people began to wonder
why, since they were Christians, and had received some degree of
teaching, they were still so ignorant of the means of living. The answer
was easy. The missionaries who had taught them were as ignorant as
themselves of these things; and, indeed, had not thought it necessary to
civilize while they Christianized them. Mr. Strafford had then lately
arrived in the country. He held different views to those of the
missionaries, and, pitying the forlorn condition of the islanders, he
offered to come and help them. Almost the first sensation of gladness I
remember feeling, from the day I left my father's house, was when I
heard that a clergyman of our own Church was to be settled among my poor
neighbours."
CHAPTER X.
"Mr. Strafford had been some little time on the island before he saw me.
I had seen him, however, and I dare say you will understand how the
expression of his face, the honest, manly, kindly look you have often
admired, filled me with indescribable consolation, for I felt that there
would be near me, in future, a countryman on whose counsel and help I
could rely, if I should be driven to extremity. I waited without any
impatience for the visit which he was sure to pay me. Mary, my best
friend, had lately married a young Indian, who had spent much of his
life among Europeans, and who was now employed by Mr. Strafford to teach
him the Ojibway language, and, in the meantime, to act as interpreter
for him. Through Mary and her husband, Henry Wanita, I knew he would
hear of me and be sure to seek me out. I was right; he came one day when
I was, as usual, alone, and before he left I had told him as much of my
story as I could tell to any one, except to you. I expected that he
would pity me, and that his pity would have a little contempt mixed with
it, and I had made up my mind to endure the bitterness of this, for the
sake of establishing that claim upon his advice and aid, which I was
certain, after the first shock of such a confession, my wretchedness
would give me. But he had not one word of reproof to say; either he had
heard, or he guessed that my fault had brought its full measure of
punishment, and that what I needed was rather consolation than reproach.
He went away and left me, as he often left me afterwards, with courage
and patience renewed for the hard struggle of my life.
"My husband had lately been more than ever away; and though in his
absence I had often the greatest difficulty to obtain food, or any kind
of necessaries, yet I was thankful for the peace in which I could then
live. I learned to embroider in the Indian fashion, and was able to
repay the kindness I received from Mary, and some of the other squaws,
by drawing patterns for them, and by teaching them how to make more
comfortable clothes for themselves and their children. After Mr.
Strafford had been a little while on the island, he proposed to
establish a school for this kind of work, and I became the mistress. The
women and girls came to me more readily than they would have done to a
stranger, and I soon had a good number of pupils.
"Several months passed, after Mr. Strafford's coming, without anything
new occurring. Then Christian returned from the States, where he had
been for a longer time than usual. He came late at night, and so
intoxicated that I was obliged to go myself and fasten the canoe, which
would have floated away before morning. When I followed him into the
house he was already fast asleep, and it was not till the next day that
I knew what had brought him home. Then he told me. What I
understood--for he said as little as possible on the subject--was, that
he had been for the last few weeks in the company of a party of
gamblers, to whom he had lost everything he possessed, and, finally,
that having found means of raising money upon the security of the whole
fortune to which I was entitled, he had lost that too, and consequently
we remained penniless. This much I heard with indifference; the money he
received had never benefited me, and had only given him the means for a
life you cannot imagine, and which I could not, if I would, describe to
you; but when he ended by telling me that, as all my relations were
rich, I must contrive to get fresh supplies from some of them, my
patience gave way altogether. Even my fear of him yielded to my anger;
for the first time since our arrival in Canada I spoke to him with all
the bitterness I felt. A horrible scene followed--he threatened to kill
me, and I believe would have done it but for the hope of yet obtaining
money by my means. I tried to escape, but could not; and, at last, when
he was tired of torturing me, he took off a long red sash which he wore,
and tied me to the bed. There, Lucia, for four-and-twenty hours he kept
me a prisoner, standing in a constrained attitude, without rest or food.
How I endured so long without fainting, I do not know; fear of something
worse must have given me unnatural strength, for he never left the
house, but spent the early part of the day in searching all my cupboards
and boxes for money or anything worth money, and the later part in
drinking. Mr. Strafford had gone over to the Canadian shore, or
probably, missing me from the school, he would have come in search of
me. Mary did come, but at the sight of my husband, she went away without
knowing anything of me. All night he sat drinking, for he had brought a
quantity of whisky home some time before, and towards morning he lay
down for a while, but so that I could not move without disturbing him.
After two or three hours' sleep he got up and went away, leaving me
still tied, and telling me I had better think of what he had said, and
make up my mind to get money in some way. When I heard the sound of his
paddle, and knew that he was really gone, the force that had sustained
me gave way; I fainted, and in falling, the sash happily broke, though
not until one of my wrists was badly sprained. The pain of my wrist
brought me back to consciousness. As soon as I could, I wrapped myself
in a shawl and went to Mary's cottage, to ask her to bandage it for me,
and to take my excuses to the school, where I was quite unable to go
that day.
"No one, not even Mr. Strafford, knew the cause of my sprained wrist,
or the conduct of my husband that day and night, but it was impossible
that when such scenes were repeated again and again, they should not
become known. And they were repeated so often and so dreadfully, that
only the feeling that I endured the just penalty of my own conduct,
enabled me to bear the perpetual suffering. At last, even Christian saw
that I could not live long if I had not some respite. Perhaps he had a
little pity for me; perhaps he only thought still of gain. At any rate,
he became less cruel, and my health returned. Again something like a
calm came over my life, and I began to feel hopeful once more. The next
spring you, Lucia, my light and comfort, were born, and from that time I
had double cause both for hope and fear. The birth of a daughter,
however, is no cause of joy to an Indian father; if you had been a boy
you would have been (or so I fancy) far less consolation to me, but to
Christian you would have been more welcome. He was with me when you were
born, but the very next day he left the island for three or four weeks,
and from the time of his next return all my former sufferings
recommenced. Often in terror for your life, I carried you to Mary Wanita
and implored her to keep you until your father was gone; and even in
his absence I scarcely dared to fall asleep with you in my arms, lest he
should come in unexpectedly and snatch you from me.
"When you were about a year old Mr. Strafford married. His wife, who had
already heard of me before her marriage, became the dearest of friends
to me; with her I could always leave you in safety, and with her I began
to feel again the solace of female society and sympathy. She is dead, as
you know, long ago, and her little daughter died at the same time, of a
fever which broke out on the island two or three years after we left it.
"Two years passed after your birth, and things had gone on in much the
same way. My husband never ceased to urge me to try to obtain money from
England, and in the meantime he continually took from me the little I
could earn by my work, for which Mrs. Strafford found me a sale in
different towns of the province.
"Do not misjudge me, Lucia. I tell you these things only to justify what
I did later, and my long concealment even from you of the truth of my
history.
"But when you were about two years old your father left the island, and
did not return. The longest stay he had ever made before was a month,
and when two passed, and I neither saw nor heard of him, I began to feel
uneasy. Mr. Strafford made many inquiries for me, but we only heard of
his having been seen shortly after he left home, and quite failed in
learning where he had gone. Time went on, and, after the first anxious
and troubled feelings passed off, I allowed myself to enjoy the
undisturbed quiet, and to be happy as any other mother might be with her
child. I had a whole year of such peace; you grew hardy and merry, and
were the pet and plaything of the whole village, learning to talk the
strangest mixed language, and showing at that time none of the terror of
Indians which I have seen in you since then.
"But at the end of a year our respite ended. One day when I had been at
the school, and you with me, I was surprised on my return home to see
the door of the house open, and some men sitting at my table. I hurried
on, and walked into the room before they were aware of my coming. There
were four of them, two Indians and two who were either white or of mixed
race; but it was only by his voice, and that after a moment's pause,
that I could recognize my husband. My husband! never till then had I
known the full horror that word could convey. Remember that long ago I
had been charmed, had fallen in love, as girls say, with one who seemed
to represent the very perfection and ideal of manly beauty; that this
beauty and stateliness of outward form had been so great that I took it
for the truthful expression of such a nature as I thought most
heroic--remember this, and then think of what I saw after this year of
absence. A bloated, degraded, horrible creature--not even a man, but a
brute, raving half deliriously, and still drinking, while his
companions, little more sober than himself, made him the subject of
their jests and jeers. I held my little innocent child in my arms while
I saw this, and for the first time, and for her sake, I felt a bitter
hatred rise up in my heart against her father."
A strong shudder crept over Mrs. Costello; she covered her face with her
hands for a moment, while Lucia drew more closely to her side. Presently
she went on. "A cry from you, my child, drew the men's attention to us.
'Here's your squaw,' one of them said to Christian, who tried to get up,
but could not. I saw that it was useless to speak to him, and turned to
leave the house, intending to ask shelter from Mrs. Strafford or Mary,
but before I could pass the door one of the strangers shut and bolted
it, while another seized and held me fast. They made me sit down at the
table; they tried to drag you out of my arms, and failing in that, to
make you swallow some of the whisky they were drinking. I defended you
as well as I could. In my terror and despair I watched for the time when
they should all become as helpless as the miserable creature who had
brought them there; but it was long to wait. Lucia, those hours when I
saw myself and you at the mercy of these wretches were like years of
agony. They saw my fear, however I might try to disguise it, and
delighted in the torment I suffered. They tried again and again to take
you from me; they threatened us both with every imaginable horror; till
I thought night would have quite closed in before their drinking would
end in complete intoxication. At length, at length, it did. One had
fallen asleep; the other two were quarrelling feebly, when I ventured to
move. They tried to get up, to stop me; but I drew the bolt, and fled
into the darkness where I knew they could not follow.
"I reached Mr. Strafford's door, and we were received with all kindness;
but the fright, the sudden exposure to cold night air, after being for
so many hours shut up in a stifling room, and perhaps, added to all a
few drops of spirit which had been forced into your mouth, brought on
you a sudden, and to me most terrible, illness. It was your first; I had
never seen you suffer, and I thought you would die; that God would take
you from me as the last and crowning punishment for my disobedience. In
the great anguish of this idea, I wrote to my father--wrote by your
bedside while you slept, and confessing all my folly, implored his
forgiveness, as if that would preserve my child's life. You recovered,
and in my joy I almost forgot that the letter had been written. While
you lay ill, the Straffords concealed from me that my husband had been
to the house demanding my return home; but when you were almost well,
they told me not only this, but that he had declared in the village that
he would punish us both for our flight. It was then that Mr. Strafford
recommended me to think seriously of a final escape.
"'It is evident,' he said, 'that you neither can, nor ought, to put
yourself and your child again into his power--while you remain on the
island it must be here; but I strongly advise you to return to England,
or conceal yourself from him in some way.'
"I gratefully accepted his invitation to remain for a little while at
his house--the rest of his plan could not be hastily decided upon; and
while I deliberated, a letter arrived from England. Mr. Strafford, on
hearing of the scene which ended in your illness, had carried out an
idea which, he afterwards told me, he had long entertained, and written
to my cousin George. The letter which now arrived was in answer to this,
though it contained an enclosure for me. My appeal to my father had been
made just in time; it reached him on his deathbed, and he forgave me. He
did more than that; he altered, at the very last, a will made many years
before, and left me an equal sum to that I had before inherited from my
mother, but with the condition that I should never return to England.
You understand now why, loving the dear old country as I still do, I
have always told you I should never see it again--to do so would be to
forfeit all our living, and more even than that, it would be to disobey
my father's last command. My cousin's note was as kind and brotherly as
if he had never had the least reason to complain of me. He told me that
he had married some years before a good woman who, I have since thought,
might have been his first choice if regard for my father's wishes had
not influenced him. At any rate, they were and, I hope, still are happy
together, filling my father and mother's places in the old home.
"These letters made my way clearer. It was settled that I should take
advantage of Christian's absence (for he had again left the island) to
remove with you to the most secure hiding-place we could find, and as a
large town always offers the best means of concealment, we decided upon
Montreal. So after a residence of six years on the island, I left it at
last, carrying you with me and calling myself a widow. It was then that
I took the name of Costello. It was my mother's family name, and is
really, as you have always supposed, Spanish--my great-grandfather
having been a Spaniard. I gave you the name at your baptism, so that it
is really yours, though not mine.
"For six months we remained in Montreal; but I had been so long used to
the silence and free air of the island that my health failed in the
noisy town. I was seized with a terror of dying, and leaving you
unprotected, and therefore determined to try whether I could not remain
concealed equally well in the country. A chance made me think of this
neighbourhood, which, though rather too near my old home, was then very
retired, and not inhabited at all by Indians. I came up, found this
place for sale and bought it. There was only a very rough log-house upon
the ground, but I went into that until this cottage was ready, and here
you can remember almost all that has happened."
Lucia raised her head as her mother finished speaking.
"But--my father!" she said hesitatingly.
"I forgot." Mrs. Costello resumed. "Mr. Strafford kept me informed of
his movements for some time. He came back shortly after we had left the
island, and on finding us gone, he tried all means to discover where we
were. He actually traced us to Montreal, but there lost the clue, and
came back disappointed. For some years he continued to live much as he
had done ever since his return from England, frequently staying two or
three weeks on the island, and never forgetting to make some effort to
trace us. The perpetual terror I suffered during those years never
subsided. I feared to go outside of my own garden lest he should meet
and recognize me. At last Mr. Strafford sent me word that he had gone to
the Hudson's Bay Territory.
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