Human life.
Our story rapidly hastens to a close, parts whereof had hitherto been purposely thrown into the back ground of our painting,—or, to use another simile, adopting the policy of a wary general, who makes a feint retreat with the intent of concentrating his forces, next to return with renovated vigour and alacrity to the charge; thus sagely saving his videts from being shot, his cannon from being spiked, and his reinforcements from being killed off. In like manner too, most gentle reader, we have adopted the "parva componere magnis;" and accordingly, as we felt it incumbent upon us, have hitherto thrown some facts and events, since developed, and deeply connected with our story, into the back ground of our picture, with the hope that aught of circumstance or of interest that we hitherto fain would hide in the shade, and cloak under the veil or umbrage of mystery and obscurity, might chance to escape the penetration of the reviewing critic, and of thee too, reviewing reader! until we found it sage and pertinently expedient to develope the same.
However we may have failed or succeeded in this attempt, we have nevertheless endeavoured, with all our means, to give a faithful and impartial portraiture of the different events as they actually occurred, and of the various characters presented in our tale, as they severally made "their exits and their entrances," and "bustled their busy hour" in "this strange and eventful history." And now, courteous reader, we gratefully take leave, and greet thee with our ultimum vale, for we shall never meet again!—then accept our last adieu!
Of the future fate and fortunes of Sir David Bruce, nothing, with any certain portion of historic authenticity, could for a vast length of time be traced or ascertained. It is true, however, as usually consequatory upon such doubtful occasions, that rumour, with her hundred tongues, was not found sleeping at her post, but was, on this occurrence, alert and busy as the tattling goddess is ever wont to be, in spreading and disseminating through the oracular organs of all the gossiping old women in, about, and around all the adjoining baronies, various, yet contradictory reports. One story-teller reported that Sir David had retired to the continent, and had once more visited his favourite Brussels, and had there taken up his abode. But that city, instead of yielding all its former charms, when hope was buoyant, and love successful, only served to demonstrate the mournful contrast, and recall more potently his misery! He too well remembered what he had been, and what the treasure was that he had for ever lost! He felt but too well that "such things had been, and were most dear to him." But alas, then he knew, and most acutely felt too, the wretched man he was! What was he now?—a forlorn fugitive—a self-outcast—his peace destroyed—his hopes decayed—and in a word, a wretch, by his own condemnation! Unhappy man! he knew but too well what he had been—what he might have been—what he ought to have been—and, oh! what then he was! These were no consoling reflections to an acute and sensitive mind like his. The rumour then concluded by asserting, that finding only aggravated sorrow, vexation, and a painful recollection of that happiness that he had lost for ever, in his former once favourite city of Brussels, that Sir David had thence retired, in complete disgust with all the world, where "man delighted him not, nor woman neither," into the Monastery of Sancta Maria de Camberone, near to Mons, where he became a Carthusian friar; long continued to lead a life of piety and peace; died a beatified saint, and bequeathed all his worldly estate to the holy brethren of that pious establishment.
This idle and unfounded rumour was, however, at variance completely with positive and stubborn facts; and truth was clearly elicited from the high and honourable testimony of Lord Glandarah, who had been engaged in a tour upon the continent; and while occupied in visiting foreign courts, among others had sojourned at the court of the Elector Palatine, to whom, upon his arrival at Berlin, he was presented; and in the suite and service of this prince he recognized Sir David Bruce. Both were mutually rejoiced at the meeting, but remained wholly silent as to the events that had passed at Tyrconnel Castle.
Sir David Bruce was habited in a black hussar uniform; much changed in appearance, and his spirits completely broken down; his manly form and figure were sadly altered. However mournful and depressed appeared the Bruce, yet the story of his life, from the time of his departure from Tyrconnel Castle, was well told in the scar on his manly cheek, and the still deeper one which he bore upon his noble brow; while the brilliant star of Brandenburgh that sparkled on his breast, and the cross which hung appendant to his neck, gave proofs that his deeds of valour had not passed by unregarded and unrewarded by the grateful prince he served.
In the course of some few years subsequent to the period which we notice, the Berlin Gazette, in giving an account of the siege of Namur in the year 1690 and ——, thus notices the death of this truly valiant hero. After a long military detail the statement ran to this effect:—"That in boldly attempting to carry the fort of Coehorn by a l'epee à la main, the gallant Sir David Bruce had fallen, overpowered by wounds; when his lamented remains were borne from the trenches by his brave Brandenburghers, whom he had so often led on to victory; and were by them most honourably interred, with all the pomp and regret that await the brave."
Such was the gallant termination of the brilliant, transient, and unhappy career of the valiant Bruce. His amiable lady, the poor, disconsolate Adelaide, did not long survive her lord, who in every respect was deserving of a happier fate than that sad one which unhappily fell to her lot. She died, as she had lived, a Protestant, although the duke and duchess were strict Catholics; a striking proof of the superiority of her understanding, considering all local circumstances, and the tone and temper of the times with which she had to contend; living under a Catholic king, whose whole conduct and administration were arbitrary—whose royal career propitiously set out with the title of "James the Just," but fatally terminated in that of "James the Tyrannical;" oppressing both the consciences and the personal liberty of his subjects, whom he only considered as his slaves.
But let it be understood, and handed down to posterity, that Lady Adelaide was no bigot, her feelings and her religion were by far too Christian to permit her to be one. Piety, charity, toleration, and benevolence, accompanied withal a mild, gentle, and conciliatory temper, adorned her character; and with a truly devout feeling softened the asperities and disappointments which she had to encounter in her mournful passage and pilgrimage through the thorny vale of life. Pure, unaffected piety, and the slow hand of time, united to the kind attentions of her relatives, especially of her mother the duchess, and Lady Lucy, gradually succeeded in mitigating her grief. While humbly and cheerfully submitting to the will of heaven, and occupied in the exercise of the mild and tolerant spirit of the Christian faith, she found that internal comfort and consolation that was denied her in the world.
Adelaide did not long survive her husband, and upon her death-bed made a confession, previous to which disclosure none but the confidential ear of her beloved mother had heard. In this she disclosed all those events which have been already developed by the extraordinary and affecting interview and separation which we witnessed to have passed between Bruce and Adelaide. Having received the last rites of the church, Adelaide surrendered her last breath, with hope and humble resignation, to Him who gave it!