The Amorous Intrigues and Adventures of Aaron Burr/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII.
Burr in the camp.—An intrigue in Charlestown.—The betrayed wife.
The intimacy between Burr and Angelina Dudley appears to have continued till he joined the army, in 1775, at Cambridge.
It does not appear that they ever met afterwards. Indeed, not long after their separation, Angelina was married to a British officer of wealth, who took her to England, introduced her at court, and from that time we lose the trace of her.
Burr was not well satisfied with his fellow-soldiers of the American camp. He found that discipline was relaxed, and card-playing was far more attractive than military tactics, to the majority of the patriots.
Our hero remained at Cambridge some two months, during which time he made his mark among the ladies, after his peculiar fashion.
Crossing over to the adjacent town of Charlestown, with a couple of his brother-officers, on one Sunday afternoon, Burr saw at a window a young lady of considerable beauty, who regarded him with attention.
She lived in what is called Main street, not far from the square on which the market and town-hall are built. Although his two companions were taller than himself, and might have passed for men of commanding forms and imposing aspect, yet the lady appeared to be more struck with the appearance of Burr than with either of the others.
This was of course, gratifying to the young soldier, who appears to have been remarkably vain of the admiration of the other sex. While his two friends were enjoying themselves at a hotel, he went out and made some inquiries respecting the occupant of the house which contained the young lady. He soon found that it was the dwelling of a Dr. W—, a man of considerable eminence in the town.
"Pray, sir who is this Dr. W—?" inquired Burr. "Is he a single man?"
"No, sir; he married Miss P—, of Concord," was the reply; "the prettiest girl in that place and the reigning belle."
"Belles are sometimes wanting in devotion to one man," said he, carelessly. "Having been admired and praised by many, they miss the incense of flattery—"
"Very true," replied his informant quickly, "and in this case, it was only after the repeated and earnest entreaties of her lover that she yielded her assent to the marriage. Some thought he would go mad if she did not accept him."
"A man does wrong to appeal to a young lady's pity," said Burr, "when he has reason to believe that she would not prefer him if left to her own proper judgment."
"Yes, sir, and when he does get her by appealing to her pity, he ought, at least, to treat her well."
"What, sir! do you mean to say that he does not treat her well?"
"He has been married but six months," was the reply, "and there are strange stories about him already."
"Of what?"
"You may guess."
"That he keeps a mistress, perhaps."
The other smiled, and said:
"He goes into New Hampshire once in a while."
"Are there many pretty girls in New Hampshire?" inquired Burr.
"Yes, sir; many a fair neck and bosom, with fair hair, and rounded forms—a plenty of them, sir."
"You say the wife is beautiful?"
"Beautiful, sir, but disatisfied. Having yielded up her liberty to the prayers and entreaties of a man who seemed to love her to madness, it is natural that she should feel unhappy when he has proved, by his conduct, that he was governed by a mere whim of the moment."
Burr had, indeed, observed something in the air of the young lady that warranted him in believing every word that his informant had communicated.
Acting as if he had never seen her, Burr obtained an accurate description of her personal appearance. It was certainly the same woman whom he had seen at the window.
"Does he often leave town for New Hampshire?" asked Burr.
"Yes; he is gone there even now."
Burr said to himself:
"It is best to make hay while the sun shines. And when evening arrived, he contrived to separate from his two friends, as if by accident, and rapping at the door of Dr. W—, asked for the lady of the house.
He was equsted to walk in, and the start which Mrs. W— gave when she first beheld his countenance by the light of the lamp, convinced him that she had been impressed by his appearance when she saw him in the street.
"My apology, madam, for intruding upon you this evening," said Burr, "is the fact that I am just from the colony of New Hampshire, and have been hunting for you all the afternoon."
"From New Hampshire, sir!" cried the lady, seeming puzzled at this announcement.
"You know that the Doctor is there, madam?"
"The Doctor, sir! But what doctor do you allude to?"
"Dr. W—, of course."
"Dr. W—, my husband!" exclaimed she in evident astonishment.
Burr discovered that circumstances had favored him. He had supposed that she knew the doctor was gone to New Hampshire, though she was ignorant of his errand thither.
"He is certainly in New Hampshire, madam, for I saw him there two days ago, and he sent a message by me to you."
"What was it, sir? It doubtless explains why he altered his original intention, which was to go into Connecticut."
"I beg pardon," said Burr; "such was not the nature of his communication. He wished me to say, that, owing to unexpected circumstances, he should not return under two weeks."
"You surprise me, sir. Did he not say why he went to New Hampshire?"
Burr bit his lip, as if mortified at having revealed a fact which the doctor wished to conceal.
"He did say something about Connecticut," and now I recollect, madam, that—that—bit I fear that I have distressed you."
The young wife remained silent, but looked pale and trembled.
"What his business is with Miss Johnson," continued Burr, "I do not know, but—
"With whom, sir?"
"Miss Johnson, madam. You have doubtless heard of Miss Johnson?"
"Not I. Did he tell you that he should call on a lady of that name?"
"Oh, no. I thought you knew that, as a matter of course. I am not acquainted with the young lady, but report speaks of her as being very handsome."
"You learned—"
"I learned from a gentleman in Concord, New Hampshire, that Doctor W— frequently visited a Miss Johnson, who resides near his house. But, you seem affected, madam. Perhaps I ought to have left it to your husband to explain the matter."
"I have long suspected something wrong, sir, and now I see it all."
"I don't say that. The young lady is probably some patient of his; or, indeed, she may be a relative. You have no cause to—"
"Oh! no, sir. Your interpretation is quite too charitable. Why should he tell me that his frequent absences are caused by business in Connecticut?"
"That does look—unaccountable," said Burr, hesitating. "Yet there are so many ways that—at least, he might have some cogent reasons for not telling you where he was going."
"Yes, sir, but he does tell me where he is going, and tells me falsely."
"It is impossible, madam, for any one who has seen his lady, to believe that Dr. W—, can be attracted elsewhere."
"I believe, sir, by your manner, that you know even more than you have told me."
Burr started, but remained silent; still he looked as if he was surprised that she should have so truly interpreted his manner.
"Come, sir, let me hear the worst at once."
"It is not my province, and very unpleasant to my feelings." returned the young soldier, looking at Mrs. W—, with an expression of deep sympathy on his countenance; "it is not my habit to foment misunderstandings between a husband and his wife, but rather to allay them."
"Nay, sir, the whole truth—whatever it be—cannot equal the dark suspicions which are engendered by this tormenting suspence."
"Madam, I am sorry that I was made the messenger on this painful occasion; but an intimate friend of your husband has told me that he said you never loved him—that you only married him for the sake of attaining to a social position—that you were afraid of dying an old maid."
"My husband said that! What, after all that had passed—after he had—but no matter." And the poor woman's cheeks were, at once, deluged with a flood of tears.
"Madam—dear madam," cried Burr, soothingly, but his sympathy availed little. The thought that a man for whom she had sacrificed herself, and to whose prayers and tears she had yielded rather than to her own feelings and preferences, should so misrepresent her conduct and character, was quite to much; and she continued to weep bitterly.
Burr then began to speak of himself, and of his intention to accompany Col. Arnold on an expedition to Canada. This awakened the interest of the lady, who asked if it was not exceedingly dangerous.
"That is its principal recommendation to a soldier, madam."
"But you are so young! Pray, sir, may I make so bold as to ask whether your parents are living."
"They died while I was a mere child; but I have other relatives. I have a sister."
"Does she know that you intend setting out on this dangerous enterprise."
"She does, and though feeling all the anxiety which does so much honor to the tender heart of a woman, is yet patriot enough to surrender me to my country."
Mrs. W— sighed. In his conversation, Burr had contrived to render himself extremely interesting. His youthful appearance was calculated to set the mind of the lady at rest in regard to any danger to her honor that might attend their private consultation, while his glowing countenance, his gallant air and determined heroism, united to that magnetic power which dwelt in his beaming black eyes, occasioned her feelings that she would have been very unwilling to confess to the world. It grew late, but the young lady heeded it not. The hours passed like minutes, for her spirit was enthralled by Burr's conversation, which from sympathy took the tone of love, and yet so gradual was the change that she could not have told when or how it was affected.
We have said that the lady's husband never possessed her love; but, after the disclosures made by our hero, she did not even yield the false husband her respect.
The time was propitious for the object which Burr had in view, and he seized the opportunity like a Napoleon on the battle field.
Nearer and nearer he drew his chair to the lady, and finally threw himself on his knees before her, and poured out a rhapsody in terms admirably suited to such an occasion.
But this startled her from her dulcet dream, and she beheld the abyss that yawned before her. A less intrepid wooer would have shrunk from her awakened indignation; but Burr only felt himself at the Bridge of Lodi, and was equally to the emergency. He now, for the first time, laid his hand on the lady, and hugged her to his bosom, kissing her with such earnestness as to smother the shriek which quivered on her lips. Another moment, and she lay prone upon the sofa, with her dress over her face. So quick were the movements of Burr, that the young wife felt the ecstatic thrill before she could collect her scattered senses, and then it was to late. Such sweet joy rushed through her heart and titilated her woman-hood, that all sense of duty or fear of discovery was swallowed up in the present enjoyment.
Again and again did Burr apply himself to the task of consoling the neglected wife, and day dawned before he left the entranced beauty to her own meditations.
She watched him from the window, as he walked rapidly up the street, and wondered how one so youthful should have learned so much of the female heart, and should be so able to satisfy its desires when the raging fire of passion had once been kindled.