Chapter 15

So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
--Shakspeare.

It is proper that the course of the narrative should be stayed, while
we revert to those causes, which have brought in their train of
consequences, the singular contest just related. The interruption must
necessarily be as brief as we hope it may prove satisfactory to that
class of readers, who require that no gap should be left by those who
assume the office of historians, for their own fertile imaginations to
fill.

Among the troops sent by the government of the United States, to take
possession of its newly acquired territory in the west, was a
detachment led by a young soldier who has become so busy an actor in
the scenes of our legend. The mild and indolent descendants of the
ancient colonists received their new compatriots without distrust,
well knowing that the transfer raised them from the condition of
subjects, to the more enviable distinction of citizens in a government
of laws. The new rulers exercised their functions with discretion, and
wielded their delegated authority without offence. In such a novel
intermixture, however, of men born and nurtured in freedom, and the
compliant minions of absolute power, the catholic and the protestant,
the active and the indolent, some little time was necessary to blend
the discrepant elements of society. In attaining so desirable an end,
woman was made to perform her accustomed and grateful office. The
barriers of prejudice and religion were broken through by the
irresistible power of the master-passion, and family unions, ere long,
began to cement the political tie which had made a forced conjunction,
between people so opposite in their habits, their educations, and
their opinions.

Middleton was among the first, of the new possessors of the soil, who
became captive to the charms of a Louisianian lady. In the immediate
vicinity of the post he had been directed to occupy, dwelt the chief
of one of those ancient colonial families, which had been content to
slumber for ages amid the ease, indolence, and wealth of the Spanish
provinces. He was an officer of the crown, and had been induced to
remove from the Floridas, among the French of the adjoining province,
by a rich succession of which he had become the inheritor. The name of
Don Augustin de Certavallos was scarcely known beyond the limits of
the little town in which he resided, though he found a secret pleasure
himself in pointing it out, in large scrolls of musty documents, to an
only child, as enrolled among the former heroes and grandees of Old
and of New Spain. This fact, so important to himself and of so little
moment to any body else, was the principal reason, that while his more