The Monctons

Monctons: A Novel, Volume I, by
Susanna Moodie

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Title: The Monctons: A Novel, Volume I
Author: Susanna Moodie
Release Date: March 16, 2007 [EBook #20835]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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MONCTONS: A NOVEL, VOLUME I ***

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THE MONCTONS:
A NOVEL.

BY
SUSANNA MOODIE,
AUTHOR OF
"ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH," "FLORA LINDSAY,"
"MATRIMONIAL SPECULATIONS," &c.
What--dost thou think I'll bend to thee? The free in soul are ever free:
Nor force, nor poverty can bind The subtle will--the thinking mind.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1856.
LONDON: Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.

TO JOHN LOVELL, ESQ., OF MONTREAL, WHO WAS ONE OF
THE FIRST AND MOST SUCCESSFUL PIONEERS IN
ESTABLISHING A NATIONAL LITERATURE IN THE
CANADIAN COLONIES, THIS WORK, WHICH OWES ITS
EXISTENCE TO HIS GENEROUS CARE, IS RESPECTFULLY
DEDICATED, BY HIS GRATEFUL AND OBLIGED FRIEND,
SUSANNA MOODIE.
DECEMBER, 1855.

Transcriber's Note: The Table of Contents is not contained in the book
but has been created for the convenience of the reader of this etext.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
MY GRANDFATHER AND HIS SONS. II. MY MOTHER'S
FUNERAL. III. MY AUNT REBECCA. IV. THE TUTOR. V. A
CHANGE IN MY PROSPECTS. VI. THE SORROWS OF
DEPENDENCE. VII. GEORGE HARRISON. VIII. UNGRATIFIED
CURIOSITY. IX. A PORTRAIT. X. DREAMS. XI. MY FIRST LOVE.
XII. I FORFEIT MY INDEPENDENCE. XIII. A VISIT FROM THE
GREAT MAN OF THE FAMILY. XIV. LOVE AND HATRED. XV.
GEORGE HARRISON AND HIS HISTORY. XVI. GEORGE
HARRISON CONTINUES HIS HISTORY. XVII. HARRISON
FINDS A FRIEND IN NEED. XVIII. THE MEETING.

THE MONCTONS.
CHAPTER I.
MY GRANDFATHER AND HIS SONS.
There was a time--a good old time--when men of rank and fortune were
not ashamed of their poor relations; affording the protection of their
name and influence to the lower shoots of the great family tree, which,
springing from the same root, expected to derive support and
nourishment from the main stem.
That time is well-nigh gone for ever. Kindred love and hospitality have
decreased with the increase of modern luxury and exclusiveness, and
the sacred ties of consanguinity are now regarded with indifference; or

if recognized, it is only with those who move in the same charmed
circle, and who make a respectable appearance in the world: then, and
then only, are their names pronounced with reverence, and their
relationship considered an honor.
It is amusing to watch from a distance, the eagerness with which some
people assert their claims to relationship with wealthy and titled
families, and the intrigue and manoeuvring it calls forth in these
fortunate individuals, in order to disclaim the boasted connexion.
It was my fate for many years to eat the bitter bread of dependence, as
one of those despised and insulted domestic annoyances--A Poor
Relation.
My grandfather, Geoffrey Moncton, whose name I bear, was the
youngest son of a wealthy Yorkshire Baronet, whose hopes and
affections entirely centered in his first-born. What became of the junior
scions of the family-tree was to him a matter of secondary
consideration. My grandfather, however, had to be provided for in a
manner becoming the son of a gentleman, and on his leaving college,
Sir Robert offered to purchase him a commission in the army.
My grandfather was a lad of peaceable habits, and had a mortal
antipathy to fighting. He refused point blank to be a soldier. The Navy
offered the same cause for objection, strengthened by a natural aversion
to the water, which made him decline going to sea.
What was to be done with the incorrigible youth? Sir Robert flew into a
passion--called him a coward--a disgrace to the name of Moncton.
My grandfather, who was a philosopher in his way, pleaded guilty to
the first charge. From his cradle he had carefully avoided scenes of
strife and violence, and had been a quiet, industrious boy at school, a
sober plodding student at college, minding his own business, and
troubling himself very little with the affairs of others. The sight of
blood made him sick; he hated the smell of gunpowder, and would
make any sacrifice of time and trouble rather than come to blows. He
now listened to the long catalogue of his demerits, which his angry

progenitor poured forth against him, with such stoical indifference, that
it nearly drew upon him the corporeal