Chapter 6

"Virginia, affrighted, said to him, 'Oh, my friend, I call to witness the pleasures of our early age, your sorrow and my own, and every thing that can forever bind two unfortunate beings to each other, that if I remain, I will live but for you; that if I go, I will one day return to be yours. I call you all to witness, you who have reared my infancy, who dispose of my life, who see my tears. I swear by that Heaven which hears me, by the sea which I am going to pass, by the air I breathe, and which I never sullied by a falsehood.'

"As the sun softens and dissolves an icy rock upon the summit of the Apennines, so the impetuous passions of the young man were subdued by the voice of her he loved. He bent his head, and a flood of tears fell from his eyes. His mother, mingling her tears with his, held him in her arms, but was unable to speak. Madame de la Tour, half distracted, said to me, 'I can bear this no longer. My heart is broken. This unfortunate Voyage shall not take place. Do take my son home with you. It is eight days since any one here has slept.'

"I said to Paul, 'My dear friend, your sister will remain. To-morrow we will speak to the governor; leave your family, to take some rest, and come and pass the night with me.'

"He suffered himself to be led away in silence; and, after a night of great agitation, he arose at break of day, and returned home.

"But why should I continue any longer the recital of this history? There is never but one aspect of human life which we can contemplate with pleasure. Like the globe upon which we revolve, our fleeting course is but a day: and if one part of that day be visited by light, the other is thrown into darkness."

"Father," I answered, "finish, I conjure you, the history which you have begun in a manner so interesting. If the images of happiness are most pleasing, those of misfortune are more instructive. Tell me what became of the unhappy young man."

"The first object which Paul beheld in his way home was Mary, who, mounted upon a rock, was earnestly looking towards the sea. As soon as he perceived her, he called to her from a distance, 'Where is Virginia?' Mary turned her head towards her young master, and began to weep. Paul, distracted, and treading back his steps, ran to the harbour. He was there informed, that Virginia had embarked at break of day, that the vessel had immediately after set sail, and could no longer be discerned. He instantly returned to the plantation, which he crossed without uttering a word.

"Although the pile of rocks behind us appears almost perpendicular, those green platforms which separate their summits are so many stages by means of which you may reach, through some difficult paths, that cone of hanging and inaccessible rocks, called the Thumb. At the foot of that cone is a stretching slope of ground, covered with lofty trees, and which is so high and steep that it appears like a forest in air, surrounded by tremendous precipices. The clouds, which are attracted round the summit of those rocks, supply innumerable rivulets, which rush from so immense a height into that deep valley situated behind the mountain, that from this elevated point we do not hear the sound of their fall. On that spot you can discern a considerable part of the island with its precipices crowned with their majestic peaks; and, amongst others, Peterbath, and the three Peaks, with their valley filled with woods. You also command an extensive view of the ocean, and even perceive the Isle of Bourbon forty leagues towards the west. From the summit of that stupendous pile of rocks Paul gazed upon the vessel which had borne away Virginia, and which, now ten leagues out at sea, appeared like a black spot in the midst of the ocean. He remained a great part of the day with his eyes fixed upon this object: when it had disappeared, he still fancied he beheld it: and when, at length, the traces which clung to his imagination were lost amidst the gathering mists of the horizon, he seated himself on that wild point, for ever beaten by the winds, which never cease to agitate the tops of the cabbage and gum trees, and the hoarse and moaning murmurs of which, similar to the distant sound of organs, inspire a deep melancholy. On that spot. I found Paul, with his head reclined on the rock, and his eyes fixed upon the ground. I had followed him since break of day, and after much importunity, I prevailed with him to descend from the heights, and return to his family. I conducted him to the plantation, where the first impulse of his mind, upon seeing Madame de la Tour, was to reproach her bitterly for having deceived him. Madame de la Tour told us, that a favourable wind having arose at three o'clock in the morning, and the vessel being ready to set sail, the governor, attended by his general officers, and the missionary, had come with a palanquin in search of Virginia, and that, notwithstanding her own objections, her tears, and those of Margaret, all the while exclaiming that it was for the general welfare they had carried away Virginia almost dying. 'At least,' cried Paul, 'if I had bid her farewell, I should now be more calm. I would have said to her, Virginia, if, during the time we have lived together, one word may have escaped me which has offended you, before you leave me for ever, tell me that you forgive me. I would have said to her, since I am destined to see you no more, farewell, my dear Virginia, farewell! Live far from me, contented and happy!'

"When he saw that his mother and Madame de la Tour were weeping, 'You must now,' said he, 'seek some other than me to wipe away your tears;' and then, rushing out of the house, he wandered up and down the plantation. He flew eagerly to those spots which had been most dear to Virginia. He said to the goats and their kids which followed him, bleating, 'What do you ask of me? You will see her no more who used to feed you with her own hand.' He went to the bower called the Repose of Virginia; and, as the birds flew around him, exclaimed, 'Poor little birds! you will fly no more to meet her who cherished you!' and observing Fidele running backwards and forwards in search of her, he heaved a deep sigh, and cried, 'Ah! you will never find her again.' At length he went and seated himself upon the rock where he had conversed with her the preceding evening; and at the view of the ocean, upon which he had seen the vessel disappear, which bore her away, he wept bitterly.

"We continually watched his steps, apprehending some fatal consequence from the violent agitation of his mind. His mother and Madame de la Tour conjured him, in the most tender manner, not to increase their affliction by his despair. At length Madame de la Tour soothed his mind by lavishing upon him such epithets as were best calculated to revive his hopes. She called him her son, her dear son, whom she destined for her daughter. She prevailed with him to return to the house, and receive a little nourishment. He seated himself with us at table, next to the place which used to be occupied by the companion of his childhood, and, as if she had still been present, he spoke to her, and offered whatever he knew was most agreeable to her taste; and then, starting from this dream of fancy, he began to weep. For some days he employed himself in gathering together every thing which had belonged to Virginia; the last nosegays she had worn, the cocoa shell in which she used to drink; and after kissing a thousand times those relics of his friend, to him the most precious treasures which the world contained, he hid them in his bosom. The spreading perfumes of the amber are not so sweet as the objects which have belonged to those we love. At length, perceiving that his anguish increased that of his mother and Madame de la Tour, and that the wants of the family required continual labour, he began, with the assistance of Domingo, to repair the garden.

"Soon after, this young man, till now indifferent as a Creole with respect to what was passing in the world, desired I would teach him to read and write, that he might carry on a correspondence with Virginia. He then wished to be instructed in geography, in order that he might form a just idea of the country where she had disembarked; and in history, that he might know the manners of the society in which she was placed. The powerful sentiment of love, which directed his present studies, had already taught him the arts of agriculture, and the manner of laying out the most irregular grounds with advantage and beauty. It must be admitted, that to the fond dreams of this restless and ardent passion, mankind are indebted for a great number of arts and sciences, while its disappointments have given birth to philosophy, which teaches us to bear the evils of life with resignation. Thus, nature having made love the general link which binds all beings, has rendered it the first spring of society, the first incitement of knowledge as well as pleasure.

"Paul found little satisfaction in the study of geography, which, instead of describing the natural history of each country, only gave a view of its political boundaries. History, and especially modern history, interested him little more. He there saw only general and periodical evils of which he did not discern the cause; wars for which there was no reason and no object; nations without principle, and princes without humanity. He preferred the reading of romances, which being filled with the particular feelings and interests of men, represented situations similar to his own. No book gave him so much pleasure as Telemachus, from the pictures which it draws of pastoral life, and of those passions which are natural to the human heart. He read aloud to his mother and Madame de la Tour those parts which affected him most sensibly, when, sometimes, touched by the most tender remembrances, his emotion choked his utterance, and his eyes were bathed in tears. He fancied he had found in Virginia the wisdom of Antiope, with the misfortunes and the tenderness of Eurcharis. With very different sensations he perused our fashionable novels, filled with licentious maxims and manners. And when he was informed that those romances drew a just picture of European society, he trembled, not without reason, lest Virginia should become corrupted, and should forget him.

"More than a year and a half had indeed passed away before Madame de la Tour received any tidings of her daughter. During that period she had only accidentally heard that Virginia had arrived safely in France. At length a vessel, which stopped in its way to the Indies, conveyed to Madame de la Tour a packet, and a letter written with her own hand. Although this amiable young woman had written in a guarded manner, in order to avoid wounding the feelings of a mother, it was easy to discern that she was unhappy. Her letter paints so naturally her situation and her character, that I have retained it almost word for word.

"'My dear and beloved mother, I have already sent you several letters, written with my own hand but having received no answer, I fear they have not reached you. I have better hopes for this, from the means I have now taken of sending you tidings of myself, and of hearing from you. I have shed many tears since our separation; I, who never used to weep, but for the misfortunes of others! My aunt was much astonished, when, having, upon my arrival, inquired what accomplishments I possessed, I told her that I could neither read nor write. She asked me what then I had learnt since I came into the world; and, when I answered that I had been taught to take care of the household affairs, and obey your will, she told me that I had received the education of a servant. The next day she placed me as a boarder in a great abbey near Paris, where I have masters of all kinds, who teach me, among other things, history, geography, grammar, mathematics and riding. But I have so little capacity for all those sciences, that I make but small progress with my masters.

"'My aunt's kindness, however, does not abate towards me. She gives me new dresses for each season; and she has placed two waiting women with me, who are both dressed like fine ladies. She has made me take the title of countess, but has obliged me to renounce the name of La Tour, which is as dear to me as it is to you, from all you have told me of the sufferings my father endured in order to marry you. She has replaced your name by that of your family, which is also dear to me, because it was your name when a girl. Seeing myself in so splendid a situation, I implored her to let me send you some assistance. But how shall I repeat her answer? Yet you have desired me always to tell you the truth. She told me then, that a little would be of no use to you, and that a great deal would only encumber you in the simple life you led.

"'I endeavoured, upon my arrival, to send you tidings of myself by another hand, but finding no person here in whom I could place confidence, I applied night and day to reading and writing; and Heaven, who saw my motive for learning, no doubt assisted my endeavours, for I acquired both in a short time. I entrusted my first letters to some of the ladies here, who, I have reason to think, carried them to my aunt. This time I have had recourse to a boarder, who is my friend. I send you her direction, by means of which I shall receive your answer. My aunt has forbid my holding any correspondence whatever, which might, she says, be come an obstacle to the great views she has for my advantage. No person is allowed to see me at the grate but herself, and an old nobleman, one of her friends, who, she says, is much pleased with me. I am sure I am not at all so with him; nor should I, even if it were possible for me to be pleased with any one at present.

"'I live in the midst of affluence, and have not a livre at my disposal. They say I might make an improper use of money. Even my clothes belong to my waiting women who quarrel about them before I have left them off. In the bosom of riches, I am poorer than when I lived with you; for I have nothing to give. When I found that the great accomplishments they taught me would not procure me the power of doing the smallest good, I had recourse to my needle, of which happily you had learnt me the use. I send several pair of stockings of my own making for you and my mamma Margaret, a cap for Domingo, and one of my red handkerchiefs for Mary. I also send with this packet some kernels and seeds of various kinds of fruits, which I gathered in the fields. There are much more beautiful flowers in the meadows of this country than in ours, but nobody cares for them. I am sure that you and my mamma Margaret will be better pleased with this bag of seeds, than you were with the bag of piastres, which was the cause of our separation and of my tears. It will give me great delight if you should one day see apple-trees growing at the side of the plantain, and elms blending their foliage with our cocoa-trees. You will fancy yourself in Normandy, which you love so much.

"'You desired me to relate to you my joys and my griefs. I have no joys far from you. As for my griefs, I endeavour to soothe them by reflecting that I am in the situation in which you placed me by the will of God. But my greatest affliction is, that no one here speaks to me of you, and that I must speak of you to no one. My waiting women, or rather those of my aunt, for they belong more to her than to me, told me the other day, when I wished to turn the conversation upon the objects most dear to me, 'Remember, madam, that you are a Frenchwoman, and must forget that country of savages.' Ah! sooner will I forget myself than forget the spot on which I was born, and which you inhabit! It is this country which is to me a land of savages; for I live alone, having no one to whom I can impart, those feelings of tenderness for you which I shall bear with me to the grave.

'I am, 'My dearest and beloved mother, 'Your affectionate and dutiful daughter, 'VIRGINIA DE LA TOUR."

"'I recommend to your goodness Mary and Domingo, who took so much care of my infancy. Caress Fidele for me who found me in the wood.'

"Paul was astonished that Virginia had not said one word of him, she who had not forgotten even the house dog. But Paul was not aware that, however long may be a woman's letter, she always puts the sentiments most dear to her at the end.

"In a postscript, Virginia recommended particularly to Paul's care two kinds of seed, those of the violet and scabious. She gave him some instructions upon the nature of those plants, and the spots most proper for their cultivation. 'The first,' said she, 'produces a little flower of a deep violet, which loves to hide itself beneath the bushes, but is soon discovered by its delightful odours.' She desired those seeds might be sown along the borders of the fountain, at the foot of her cocoa tree. 'The scabious,' she added, 'produces a beautiful flower of a pale blue, and a black ground, spotted with white. You might fancy it was in mourning; and for this reason, it is called the widow's flower. It delights in bleak spots beaten by the winds.' She begged this might be sown upon the rock where she had spoken to him for the last time, and that, for her sake, he would henceforth give it the name of the Farewell Rock.

"She had put those seeds into a little purse, the tissue of which was extremely simple; but which appeared above all price to Paul, when he perceived a P and a V intwined together, and knew that the beautiful hair which formed the cipher was the hair of Virginia.

"The whole family listened with tears to the letter of that amiable and virtuous young woman. Her mother answered it in the name of the little society, and desired her to remain or return as she thought proper; assuring her, that happiness had fled from their dwelling since her departure, and that, as for herself, she was inconsolable.

"Paul also sent her a long letter, in which he assured her that he would arrange the garden in a manner agreeable to her taste, and blend the plants of Europe with those of Africa. He sent her some fruit culled from the cocoa trees of the mountain, which were now arrived at maturity: telling her that he would not add any more of the other seeds of the island, that the desire of seeing those productions again might hasten her return. He conjured her to comply without delay with the ardent wishes of her family, and, above all, with his own, since he was unable to endure the pain of their separation.

"With a careful hand Paul sowed the European seeds, particularly the violet and the scabious, the flowers of which seem to bear some analogy to the character and situation of Virginia, by whom they had been recommended: but whether they were injured by the voyage, or whether the soil of this part of Africa is unfavourable to their growth, a very small number of them blew, and none came to perfection.

"Meanwhile that envy, which pursues human happiness, spread reports over the island which gave great uneasiness to Paul. The persons who had brought Virginia's letter asserted that she was upon the point of being married, and named the nobleman of the court with whom she was going to be united. Some even declared that she was already married, of which they were witnesses. Paul at first despised this report, brought by one of those trading ships, which often spread erroneous intelligence in their passage; but some ill-natured persons, by their insulting pity, led him to give some degree of credit to this cruel intelligence. Besides, he had seen in the novels which he had lately read that perfidy was treated as a subject of pleasantry; and knowing that those books were faithful representations of European manners, he feared that the heart of Virginia was corrupted, and had forgotten its former engagements. Thus his acquirements only served to render him miserable, and what increased his apprehension was, that several ships arrived from Europe, during the space of six months, and not one brought any tidings of Virginia.

"This unfortunate young man, with a heart torn by the most cruel agitation, came often to visit me, that I might confirm or banish his inquietude, by my experience of the world.

"I live, as I have already told you, a league and a half from hence, upon the banks of a little river which glides along the Sloping Mountain: there I lead a solitary life, without wife, children, or slaves.

"After having enjoyed, and lost, the rare felicity of living with a congenial mind, the state of life which appears the least wretched is that of solitude. It is remarkable that all those nations which have been rendered unhappy by their political opinions, their manners, or their forms of government, have produced numerous classes of citizens altogether devoted to solitude and celibacy. Such were the Egyptians in their decline, the Greeks of the lower empire; and such in our days are the Indians, the Chinese, the modern Greeks, the Italians, and most part of the eastern and southern nations of Europe.

"Thus I pass my days far from mankind whom I wished to serve, and by whom I have been persecuted. After having travelled over many countries of Europe, and some parts of America and Africa, I at length pitched my tent in this thinly-peopled island, allured by its mild temperature and its solitude. A cottage which I built in the woods, at the foot of a tree, a little field which I cultivated with my own hands, a river which glides before my door, suffice for my wants and for my pleasures. I blend with those enjoyments that of some chosen books, which teach me to become better. They make that world, which I have abandoned, still contribute to my satisfaction. They place before me pictures of those passions which render its inhabitants so miserable; and the comparison which I make between their destiny and my own, leads me to feel a sort of negative happiness. Like a man whom shipwreck has thrown upon a rock, I contemplate, from my solitude, the storms which roll over the rest of the world; and my repose seems more profound from the distant sounds of the tempest.

"I suffer myself to be led calmly down the stream of time to the ocean of futurity, which has no boundaries; while, in the contemplation of the present harmony of nature, I raise my soul towards its supreme Author, and hope for a more happy destiny in another state of existence.