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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:17 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:17 -0700 |
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diff --git a/13514-h/13514-h.htm b/13514-h/13514-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb0edd5 --- /dev/null +++ b/13514-h/13514-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13412 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tales of a Traveller, by Washington Irving</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 175%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13514 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover" /> +</div> + +<h1>Tales of a Traveller</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Washington Irving</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#part01"><b>PART FIRST—STRANGE STORIES BY A NERVOUS GENTLEMAN</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">A HUNTING DINNER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">THE ADVENTURE OF MY UNCLE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">THE ADVENTURE OF MY AUNT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">THE BOLD DRAGOON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">THE ADVENTURE OF THE GERMAN STUDENT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">THE ADVENTURE OF THE MYSTERIOUS PICTURE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">THE ADVENTURE OF THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">THE STORY OF THE YOUNG ITALIAN</a><br/><br/></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#part02"><b>PART SECOND—BUCKTHORNE AND HIS FRIENDS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">LITERARY LIFE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">A LITERARY DINNER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">THE CLUB OF QUEER FELLOWS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">THE POOR DEVIL AUTHOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">BUCKTHORNE, OR THE YOUNG MAN OF GREAT EXPECTATIONS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">THE BOOBY SQUIRE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">THE STROLLING MANAGER</a><br/><br/></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#part03"><b>PART THIRD—THE ITALIAN BANDITTI</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">THE INN AT TERRACINA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">THE ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">THE ADVENTURE OF THE POPKINS FAMILY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">THE PAINTER’S ADVENTURE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">THE STORY OF THE BANDIT CHIEFTAIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">THE STORY OF THE YOUNG ROBBER</a><br/><br/></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#part04"><b>PART FOURTH—THE MONEY DIGGERS</b></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">HELL GATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">KIDD THE PIRATE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">WOLFERT WEBBER; OR, GOLDEN DREAMS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">THE ADVENTURE OF SAM, THE BLACK FISHERMAN</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="part01"></a>PART FIRST<br/> +STRANGE STORIES BY A NERVOUS GENTLEMAN</h2> + +<p class="poem"> +I’ll tell you more; there was a fish taken,<br/> +A monstrous fish, with, a sword by’s side, a long sword,<br/> +A pike in’s neck, and a gun in’s nose, a huge gun,<br/> +And letters of mart in’s mouth, from the Duke of Florence.<br/> +<i>Cleanthes</i>. This is a monstrous lie.<br/> +<i>Tony</i>. I do confess it.<br/> +Do you think I’d tell you truths!<br/> +—F<small>LETCHER’S</small> W<small>IFE FOR A</small> M<small>ONTH</small>.<br/> +</p> + +<p> +[The following adventures were related to me by the same nervous gentleman who +told me the romantic tale of T<small>HE</small> S<small>TOUT</small> +G<small>ENTLEMAN</small>, published in Bracebridge Hall. +</p> + +<p> +It is very singular, that although I expressly stated that story to have been +told to me, and described the very person who told it, still it has been +received as an adventure that happened to myself. Now, I protest I never met +with any adventure of the kind. I should not have grieved at this, had it not +been intimated by the author of Waverley, in an introduction to his romance of +Peveril of the Peak, that he was himself the Stout Gentleman alluded to. I have +ever since been importuned by letters and questions from gentlemen, and +particularly from ladies without number, touching what I had seen of the great +unknown. +</p> + +<p> +Now, all this is extremely tantalizing. It is like being congratulated on the +high prize when one has drawn a blank; for I have just as great a desire as any +one of the public to penetrate the mystery of that very singular personage, +whose voice fills every corner of the world, without any one being able to tell +from whence it comes. He who keeps up such a wonderful and whimsical incognito: +whom nobody knows, and yet whom every body thinks he can swear to. +</p> + +<p> +My friend, the nervous gentleman, also, who is a man of very shy, Retired +habits, complains that he has been excessively annoyed in consequence of its +getting about in his neighborhood that he is the fortunate personage. Insomuch, +that he has become a character of considerable notoriety in two or three +country towns; and has been repeatedly teased to exhibit himself at +blue-stocking parties, for no other reason than that of being “the gentleman +who has had a glimpse of the author of Waverley.” +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, the poor man has grown ten times as nervous as ever, since he has +discovered, on such good authority, who the stout gentleman was; and will never +forgive himself for not having made a more resolute effort to get a full sight +of him. He has anxiously endeavored to call up a recollection of what he saw of +that portly personage; and has ever since kept a curious eye on all gentlemen +of more than ordinary dimensions, whom he has seen getting into stage coaches. +All in vain! The features he had caught a glimpse of seem common to the whole +race of stout gentlemen; and the great unknown remains as great an unknown as +ever.] +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap01"></a>A HUNTING DINNER</h3> + +<p> +I was once at a hunting dinner, given by a worthy fox-hunting old Baronet, who +kept Bachelor’s Hall in jovial style, in an ancient rook-haunted family +mansion, in one of the middle counties. He had been a devoted admirer of the +fair sex in his young days; but having travelled much, studied the sex in +various countries with distinguished success, and returned home profoundly +instructed, as he supposed, in the ways of woman, and a perfect master of the +art of pleasing, he had the mortification of being jilted by a little boarding +school girl, who was scarcely versed in the accidence of love. +</p> + +<p> +The Baronet was completely overcome by such an incredible defeat; retired from +the world in disgust, put himself under the government of his housekeeper, and +took to fox-hunting like a perfect Jehu. Whatever poets may say to the +contrary, a man will grow out of love as he grows old; and a pack of fox hounds +may chase out of his heart even the memory of a boarding-school goddess. The +Baronet was when I saw him as merry and mellow an old bachelor as ever followed +a hound; and the love he had once felt for one woman had spread itself over the +whole sex; so that there was not a pretty face in the whole country round, but +came in for a share. +</p> + +<p> +The dinner was prolonged till a late hour; for our host having no ladies in his +household to summon us to the drawing-room, the bottle maintained its true +bachelor sway, unrivalled by its potent enemy the tea-kettle. The old hall in +which we dined echoed to bursts of robustious fox-hunting merriment, that made +the ancient antlers shake on the walls. By degrees, however, the wine and +wassail of mine host began to operate upon bodies already a little jaded by the +chase. The choice spirits that flashed up at the beginning of the dinner, +sparkled for a time, then gradually went out one after another, or only emitted +now and then a faint gleam from the socket. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the briskest talkers, who had given tongue so bravely at the first +burst, fell fast asleep; and none kept on their way but certain of those +long-winded prosers, who, like short-legged hounds, worry on unnoticed at the +bottom of conversation, but are sure to be in at the death. Even these at +length subsided into silence; and scarcely any thing was heard but the nasal +communications of two or three veteran masticators, who, having been silent +while awake, were indemnifying the company in their sleep. +</p> + +<p> +At length the announcement of tea and coffee in the cedar parlor roused all +hands from this temporary torpor. Every one awoke marvellously renovated, and +while sipping the refreshing beverage out of the Baronet’s old-fashioned +hereditary china, began to think of departing for their several homes. But here +a sudden difficulty arose. While we had been prolonging our repast, a heavy +winter storm had set in, with snow, rain, and sleet, driven by such bitter +blasts of wind, that they threatened to penetrate to the very bone. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all in vain,” said our hospitable host, “to think of putting one’s head +out of doors in such weather. So, gentlemen, I hold you my guests for this +night at least, and will have your quarters prepared accordingly.” +</p> + +<p> +The unruly weather, which became more and more tempestuous, rendered The +hospitable suggestion unanswerable. The only question was, whether such an +unexpected accession of company, to an already crowded house, would not put the +housekeeper to her trumps to accommodate them. +</p> + +<p> +“Pshaw,” cried mine host, “did you ever know of a Bachelor’s Hall that was not +elastic, and able to accommodate twice as many as it could hold?” So out of a +good-humored pique the housekeeper was summoned to consultation before us all. +The old lady appeared, in her gala suit of faded brocade, which rustled with +flurry and agitation, for in spite of mine host’s bravado, she was a little +perplexed. But in a bachelor’s house, and with bachelor guests, these matters +are readily managed. There is no lady of the house to stand upon squeamish +points about lodging guests in odd holes and corners, and exposing the shabby +parts of the establishment. A bachelor’s housekeeper is used to shifts and +emergencies. After much worrying to and fro, and divers consultations about the +red room, and the blue room, and the chintz room, and the damask room, and the +little room with the bow window, the matter was finally arranged. +</p> + +<p> +When all this was done, we were once more summoned to the standing Rural +amusement of eating. The time that had been consumed in dozing after dinner, +and in the refreshment and consultation of the cedar parlor, was sufficient, in +the opinion of the rosy-faced butler, to engender a reasonable appetite for +supper. A slight repast had therefore been tricked up from the residue of +dinner, consisting of cold sirloin of beef; hashed venison; a devilled leg of a +turkey or so, and a few other of those light articles taken by country +gentlemen to ensure sound sleep and heavy snoring. +</p> + +<p> +The nap after dinner had brightened up every one’s wit; and a great deal of +excellent humor was expended upon the perplexities of mine host and his +housekeeper, by certain married gentlemen of the company, who considered +themselves privileged in joking with a bachelor’s establishment. From this the +banter turned as to what quarters each would find, on being thus suddenly +billeted in so antiquated a mansion. +</p> + +<p> +“By my soul,” said an Irish captain of dragoons, one of the most merry and +boisterous of the party—“by my soul, but I should not be surprised if some of +those good-looking gentlefolks that hang along the walls, should walk about the +rooms of this stormy night; or if I should find the ghost of one of these +long-waisted ladies turning into my bed in mistake for her grave in the +church-yard. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe in ghosts, then?” said a thin, hatchet-faced gentleman, with +projecting eyes like a lobster. +</p> + +<p> +I had remarked this last personage throughout dinner-time for one of Those +incessant questioners, who seem to have a craving, unhealthy appetite in +conversation. He never seemed satisfied with the whole of a story; never +laughed when others laughed; but always put the joke to the question. He could +never enjoy the kernel of the nut, but pestered himself to get more out of the +shell. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe in ghosts, then?” said the inquisitive gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“Faith, but I do,” replied the jovial Irishman; “I was brought up in the fear +and belief of them; we had a Benshee in our own family, honey.” +</p> + +<p> +“A Benshee—and what’s that?” cried the questioner. +</p> + +<p> +“Why an old lady ghost that tends upon your real Milesian families, and wails +at their window to let them know when some of them are to die.” +</p> + +<p> +“A mighty pleasant piece of information,” cried an elderly gentleman, with a +knowing look and a flexible nose, to which he could give a whimsical twist when +he wished to be waggish. +</p> + +<p> +“By my soul, but I’d have you know it’s a piece of distinction to be waited +upon by a Benshee. It’s a proof that one has pure blood in one’s veins. But, +egad, now we’re talking of ghosts, there never was a house or a night better +fitted than the present for a ghost adventure. Faith, Sir John, haven’t you +such a thing as a haunted chamber to put a guest in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” said the Baronet, smiling, “I might accommodate you even on that +point.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I should like it of all things, my jewel. Some dark oaken room, with ugly +wo-begone portraits that stare dismally at one, and about which the housekeeper +has a power of delightful stories of love and murder. And then a dim lamp, a +table with a rusty sword across it, and a spectre all in white to draw aside +one’s curtains at midnight—” +</p> + +<p> +“In truth,” said an old gentleman at one end of the table, “you put me in mind +of an anecdote—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, a ghost story! a ghost story!” was vociferated round the board, every one +edging his chair a little nearer. +</p> + +<p> +The attention of the whole company was now turned upon the speaker. He was an +old gentleman, one side of whose face was no match for the other. The eyelid +drooped and hung down like an unhinged window shutter. Indeed, the whole side +of his head was dilapidated, and seemed like the wing of a house shut up and +haunted. I’ll warrant that side was well stuffed with ghost stories. +</p> + +<p> +There was a universal demand for the tale. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” said the old gentleman, “it’s a mere anecdote—and a very commonplace +one; but such as it is you shall have it. It is a story that I once heard my +uncle tell when I was a boy. But whether as having happened to himself or to +another, I cannot recollect. But no matter, it’s very likely it happened to +himself, for he was a man very apt to meet with strange adventures. I have +heard him tell of others much more singular. At any rate, we will suppose it +happened to himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“What kind of man was your uncle?” said the questioning gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, he was rather a dry, shrewd kind of body; a great traveller, and fond of +telling his adventures.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray, how old might he have been when this happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“When what happened?” cried the gentleman with the flexible nose, +impatiently—“Egad, you have not given any thing a chance to happen -—come, +never mind our uncle’s age; let us have his adventures.” +</p> + +<p> +The inquisitive gentleman being for the moment silenced, the old gentleman with +the haunted head proceeded. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap02"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF MY UNCLE</h3> + +<p> +Many years since, a long time before the French revolution, my uncle had passed +several months at Paris. The English and French were on better terms, in those +days, than at present, and mingled cordially together in society. The English +went abroad to spend money then, and the French were always ready to help them: +they go abroad to save money at present, and that they can do without French +assistance. Perhaps the travelling English were fewer and choicer then, than at +present, when the whole nation has broke loose, and inundated the continent. At +any rate, they circulated more readily and currently in foreign society, and my +uncle, during his residence in Paris, made many very intimate acquaintances +among the French noblesse. +</p> + +<p> +Some time afterwards, he was making a journey in the winter-time, in that part +of Normandy called the Pays de Caux, when, as evening was closing in, he +perceived the turrets of an ancient chateau rising out of the trees of its +walled park, each turret with its high conical roof of gray slate, like a +candle with an extinguisher on it. +</p> + +<p> +“To whom does that chateau belong, friend?” cried my uncle to a meager, but +fiery postillion, who, with tremendous jack boots and cocked hat, was +floundering on before him. +</p> + +<p> +“To Monseigneur the Marquis de ——,” said the postillion, touching his hat, +partly out of respect to my uncle, and partly out of reverence to the noble +name pronounced. My uncle recollected the Marquis for a particular friend in +Paris, who had often expressed a wish to see him at his paternal chateau. My +uncle was an old traveller, one that knew how to turn things to account. He +revolved for a few moments in his mind how agreeable it would be to his friend +the Marquis to be surprised in this sociable way by a pop visit; and how much +more agreeable to himself to get into snug quarters in a chateau, and have a +relish of the Marquis’s well-known kitchen, and a smack of his superior +champagne and burgundy; rather than take up with the miserable lodgment, and +miserable fare of a country inn. In a few minutes, therefore, the meager +postillion was cracking his whip like a very devil, or like a true Frenchman, +up the long straight avenue that led to the chateau. +</p> + +<p> +You have no doubt all seen French chateaus, as every body travels in France +nowadays. This was one of the oldest; standing naked and alone, in the midst of +a desert of gravel walks and cold stone terraces; with a cold-looking formal +garden, cut into angles and rhomboids; and a cold leafless park, divided +geometrically by straight alleys; and two or three noseless, cold-looking +statues without any clothing; and fountains spouting cold water enough to make +one’s teeth chatter. At least, such was the feeling they imparted on the wintry +day of my uncle’s visit; though, in hot summer weather, I’ll warrant there was +glare enough to scorch one’s eyes out. +</p> + +<p> +The smacking of the postillion’s whip, which grew more and more intense the +nearer they approached, frightened a flight of pigeons out of the dove-cote, +and rooks out of the roofs; and finally a crew of servants out of the chateau, +with the Marquis at their head. He was enchanted to see my uncle; for his +chateau, like the house of our worthy host, had not many more guests at the +time than it could accommodate. So he kissed my uncle on each cheek, after the +French fashion, and ushered him into the castle. +</p> + +<p> +The Marquis did the honors of his house with the urbanity of his country. In +fact, he was proud of his old family chateau; for part of it was extremely old. +There was a tower and chapel that had been built almost before the memory of +man; but the rest was more modern; the castle having been nearly demolished +during the wars of the League. The Marquis dwelt upon this event with great +satisfaction, and seemed really to entertain a grateful feeling towards Henry +IV., for having thought his paternal mansion worth battering down. He had many +stories to tell of the prowess of his ancestors, and several skull-caps, +helmets, and cross-bows to show; and divers huge boots and buff jerkins, that +had been worn by the Leaguers. Above all, there was a two-handled sword, which +he could hardly wield; but which he displayed as a proof that there had been +giants in his family. +</p> + +<p> +In truth, he was but a small descendant from such great warriors. When you +looked at their bluff visages and brawny limbs, as depicted in their portraits, +and then at the little Marquis, with his spindle shanks; his sallow lanthern +visage, flanked with a pair of powdered ear-locks, or <i>ailes de pigeon</i>, +that seemed ready to fly away with it; you would hardly believe him to be of +the same race. But when you looked at the eyes that sparkled out like a +beetle’s from each side of his hooked nose, you saw at once that he inherited +all the fiery spirit of his forefathers. In fact, a Frenchman’s spirit never +exhales, however his body may dwindle. It rather rarefies, and grows more +inflammable, as the earthly particles diminish; and I have seen valor enough in +a little fiery-hearted French dwarf, to have furnished out a tolerable giant. +</p> + +<p> +When once the Marquis, as he was wont, put on one of the old helmets that were +stuck up in his hall; though his head no more filled it than a dry pea its +pease cod; yet his eyes sparkled from the bottom of the iron cavern with the +brilliancy of carbuncles, and when he poised the ponderous two-handled sword of +his ancestors, you would have thought you saw the doughty little David wielding +the sword of Goliath, which was unto him like a weaver’s beam. +</p> + +<p> +However, gentlemen, I am dwelling too long on this description of the Marquis +and his chateau; but you must excuse me; he was an old friend of my uncle’s, +and whenever my uncle told the story, he was always fond of talking a great +deal about his host.—Poor little Marquis! He was one of that handful of gallant +courtiers, who made such a devoted, but hopeless stand in the cause of their +sovereign, in the chateau of the Tuilleries, against the irruption of the mob, +on the sad tenth of August. +</p> + +<p> +He displayed the valor of a preux French chevalier to the last; flourished +feebly his little court sword with a sa-sa! in face of a whole legion of +<i>sans-culottes</i>; but was pinned to the wall like a butterfly, by the pike +of a poissarde, and his heroic soul was borne up to heaven on his <i>ailes de +pigeon</i>. +</p> + +<p> +But all this has nothing to do with my story; to the point then:— +</p> + +<p> +When the hour arrived for retiring for the night, my uncle was shown to his +room, in a venerable old tower. It was the oldest part of the chateau, and had +in ancient times been the Donjon or stronghold; of course the chamber was none +of the best. The Marquis had put him there, however, because he knew him to be +a traveller of taste, and fond of antiquities; and also because the better +apartments were already occupied. Indeed, he perfectly reconciled my uncle to +his quarters by mentioning the great personages who had once inhabited them, +all of whom were in some way or other connected with the family. If you would +take his word for it, John Baliol, or, as he called him, Jean de Bailleul, had +died of chagrin in this very chamber on hearing of the success of his rival, +Robert the Bruce, at the battle of Bannockburn; and when he added that the Duke +de Guise had slept in it during the wars of the League, my uncle was fain to +felicitate himself upon being honored with such distinguished quarters. +</p> + +<p> +The night was shrewd and windy, and the chamber none of the warmest. An old, +long-faced, long-bodied servant in quaint livery, who attended upon my uncle, +threw down an armful of wood beside the fire-place, gave a queer look about the +room, and then wished him <i>bon repos</i>, with a grimace and a shrug that +would have been suspicious from any other than an old French servant. The +chamber had indeed a wild, crazy look, enough to strike any one who had read +romances with apprehension and foreboding. The windows were high and narrow, +and had once been loop-holes, but had been rudely enlarged, as well as the +extreme thickness of the walls would permit; and the ill-fitted casements +rattled to every breeze. You would have thought, on a windy night, some of the +old Leaguers were tramping and clanking about the apartment in their huge boots +and rattling spurs. A door which stood ajar, and like a true French door would +stand ajar, in spite of every reason and effort to the contrary, opened upon a +long, dark corridor, that led the Lord knows whither, and seemed just made for +ghosts to air themselves in, when they turned out of their graves at midnight. +The wind would spring up into a hoarse murmur through this passage, and creak +the door to and fro, as if some dubious ghost were balancing in its mind +whether to come in or not. In a word, it was precisely the kind of comfortless +apartment that a ghost, if ghost there were in the chateau, would single out +for its favourite lounge. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle, however, though a man accustomed to meet with strange adventures, +apprehended none at the time. He made several attempts to shut the door, but in +vain. Not that he apprehended any thing, for he was too old a traveller to be +daunted by a wild-looking apartment; but the night, as I have said, was cold +and gusty, something like the present, and the wind howled about the old +turret, pretty much as it does round this old mansion at this moment; and the +breeze from the long dark corridor came in as damp and chilly as if from a +dungeon. My uncle, therefore, since he could not close the door, threw a +quantity of wood on the fire, which soon sent up a flame in the great +wide-mouthed chimney that illumined the whole chamber, and made the shadow of +the tongs on the opposite wall, look like a long-legged giant. My uncle now +clambered on top of the half score of mattresses which form a French bed, and +which stood in a deep recess; then tucking himself snugly in, and burying +himself up to the chin in the bed-clothes, he lay looking at the fire, and +listening to the wind, and chuckling to think how knowingly he had come over +his friend the Marquis for a night’s lodgings: and so he fell asleep. +</p> + +<p> +He had not taken above half of his first nap, when he was awakened by the clock +of the chateau, in the turret over his chamber, which struck midnight. It was +just such an old clock as ghosts are fond of. It had a deep, dismal tone, and +struck so slowly and tediously that my uncle thought it would never have done. +He counted and counted till he was confident he counted thirteen, and then it +stopped. +</p> + +<p> +The fire had burnt low, and the blaze of the last faggot was almost expiring, +burning in small blue flames, which now and then lengthened up into little +white gleams. My uncle lay with his eyes half closed, and his nightcap drawn +almost down to his nose. His fancy was already wandering, and began to mingle +up the present scene with the crater of Vesuvius, the French opera, the +Coliseum at Rome, Dolly’s chop-house in London, and all the farrago of noted +places with which the brain of a traveller is crammed—in a word, he was just +falling asleep. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he was aroused by the sound of foot-steps that appeared to be slowly +pacing along the corridor. My uncle, as I have often heard him say himself, was +a man not easily frightened; so he lay quiet, supposing that this might be some +other guest; or some servant on his way to bed. The footsteps, however, +approached the door; the door gently opened; whether of its own accord, or +whether pushed open, my uncle could not distinguish:—a figure all in white +glided in. It was a female, tall and stately in person, and of a most +commanding air. Her dress was of an ancient fashion, ample in volume and +sweeping the floor. She walked up to the fire-place without regarding my uncle; +who raised his nightcap with one hand, and stared earnestly at her. She +remained for some time standing by the fire, which flashing up at intervals +cast blue and white gleams of light that enabled my uncle to remark her +appearance minutely. +</p> + +<p> +Her face was ghastly pale, and perhaps rendered still more so by the Blueish +light of the fire. It possessed beauty, but its beauty was saddened by care and +anxiety. There was the look of one accustomed to trouble, but of one whom +trouble could not cast down nor subdue; for there was still the predominating +air of proud, unconquerable resolution. Such, at least, was the opinion formed +by my uncle, and he considered himself a great physiognomist. +</p> + +<p> +The figure remained, as I said, for some time by the fire, putting out first +one hand, then the other, then each foot, alternately, as if warming itself; +for your ghosts, if ghost it really was, are apt to be cold. My uncle +furthermore remarked that it wore high-heeled shoes, after an ancient fashion, +with paste or diamond buckles, that sparkled as though they were alive. At +length the figure turned gently round, casting a glassy look about the +apartment, which, as it passed over my uncle, made his blood run cold, and +chilled the very marrow in his bones. It then stretched its arms toward heaven, +clasped its hands, and wringing them in a supplicating manner, glided slowly +out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle lay for some time meditating on this visitation, for (as he Remarked +when he told me the story) though a man of firmness, he was also a man of +reflection, and did not reject a thing because it was out of the regular course +of events. However, being, as I have before said, a great traveller, and +accustomed to strange adventures, he drew his nightcap resolutely over his +eyes, turned his back to the door, hoisted the bedclothes high over his +shoulders, and gradually fell asleep. +</p> + +<p> +How long he slept he could not say, when he was awakened by the voice of some +one at his bed-side. He turned round and beheld the old French servant, with +his ear-locks in tight buckles on each side of a long, lanthorn face, on which +habit had deeply wrinkled an everlasting smile. He made a thousand grimaces and +asked a thousand pardons for disturbing Monsieur, but the morning was +considerably advanced. While my uncle was dressing, he called vaguely to mind +the visitor of the preceding night. He asked the ancient domestic what lady was +in the habit of rambling about this part of the chateau at night. The old valet +shrugged his shoulders as high as his head, laid one hand on his bosom, threw +open the other with every finger extended; made a most whimsical grimace, which +he meant to be complimentary: +</p> + +<p> +“It was not for him to know any thing of <i>les braves fortunes</i> of +Monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +My uncle saw there was nothing satisfactory to be learnt in this quarter. After +breakfast he was walking with the Marquis through the modern apartments of the +chateau; sliding over the well-waxed floors of silken saloons, amidst furniture +rich in gilding and brocade; until they came to a long picture gallery, +containing many portraits, some in oil and some in chalks. +</p> + +<p> +Here was an ample field for the eloquence of his host, who had all the family +pride of a nobleman of the <i>ancient regime</i>. There was not a grand name in +Normandy, and hardly one in France, that was not, in some way or other, +connected with his house. My uncle stood listening with inward impatience, +resting sometimes on one leg, sometimes on the other, as the little Marquis +descanted, with his usual fire and vivacity, on the achievements of his +ancestors, whose portraits hung along the wall; from the martial deeds of the +stern warriors in steel, to the gallantries and intrigues of the blue-eyed +gentlemen, with fair smiling faces, powdered ear-locks, laced ruffles, and pink +and blue silk coats and breeches; not forgetting the conquests of the lovely +shepherdesses, with hoop petticoats and waists no thicker than an hour glass, +who appeared ruling over their sheep and their swains with dainty crooks +decorated with fluttering ribbands. +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of his friend’s discourse my uncle’s eyes rested on a full-length +portrait, which struck him as being the very counterpart of his visitor of the +preceding night. +</p> + +<p> +“Methinks,” said he, pointing to it, “I have seen the original of this +portrait.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Pardonnez moi</i>,” replied the Marquis politely, “that can hardly be, as +the lady has been dead more than a hundred years. That was the beautiful +Duchess de Longueville, who figured during the minority of Louis the +Fourteenth.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was there any thing remarkable in her history.” +</p> + +<p> +Never was question more unlucky. The little Marquis immediately threw himself +into the attitude of a man about to tell a long story. In fact, my uncle had +pulled upon himself the whole history of the civil war of the Fronde, in which +the beautiful Duchess had played so distinguished a part. Turenne, Coligni, +Mazarin, were called up from their graves to grace his narration; nor were the +affairs of the Barricadoes, nor the chivalry of the Pertcocheres forgotten. My +uncle began to wish himself a thousand leagues off from the Marquis and his +merciless memory, when suddenly the little man’s recollections took a more +interesting turn. He was relating the imprisonment of the Duke de Longueville, +with the Princes Condé and Conti, in the chateau of Vincennes, and the +ineffectual efforts of the Duchess to rouse the sturdy Normans to their rescue. +He had come to that part where she was invested by the royal forces in the +chateau of Dieppe, and in imminent danger of falling into their hands. +</p> + +<p> +“The spirit of the Duchess,” proceeded the Marquis, “rose with her trials. It +was astonishing to see so delicate and beautiful a being buffet so resolutely +with hardships. She determined on a desperate means of escape. One dark unruly +night, she issued secretly out of a small postern gate of the castle, which the +enemy had neglected to guard. She was followed by her female attendants, a few +domestics, and some gallant cavaliers who still remained faithful to her +fortunes. Her object was to gain a small port about two leagues distant, where +she had privately provided a vessel for her escape in case of emergency. +</p> + +<p> +“The little band of fugitives were obliged to perform the distance on foot. +When they arrived at the port the wind was high and stormy, the tide contrary, +the vessel anchored far off in the road, and no means of getting on board, but +by a fishing shallop that lay tossing like a cockle shell on the edge of the +surf. The Duchess determined to risk the attempt. The seamen endeavored to +dissuade her, but the imminence of her danger on shore, and the magnanimity of +her spirit urged her on. She had to be borne to the shallop in the arms of a +mariner. Such was the violence of the wind and waves, that he faltered, lost +his foothold, and let his precious burden fall into the sea. +</p> + +<p> +“The Duchess was nearly drowned; but partly through her own struggles, partly +by the exertions of the seamen, she got to land. As soon as she had a little +recovered strength, she insisted on renewing the attempt. The storm, however, +had by this time become so violent as to set all efforts at defiance. To delay, +was to be discovered and taken prisoner. As the only resource left, she +procured horses; mounted with her female attendants <i>en croupe</i> behind the +gallant gentlemen who accompanied her; and scoured the country to seek some +temporary asylum. +</p> + +<p> +“While the Duchess,” continued the Marquis, laying his forefinger on my uncle’s +breast to arouse his flagging attention, “while the Duchess, poor lady, was +wandering amid the tempest in this disconsolate manner, she arrived at this +chateau. Her approach caused some uneasiness; for the clattering of a troop of +horse, at dead of night, up the avenue of a lonely chateau, in those unsettled +times, and in a troubled part of the country, was enough to occasion alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“A tall, broad-shouldered chasseur, armed to the teeth, galloped ahead, and +announced the name of the visitor. All uneasiness was dispelled. The household +turned out with flambeaux to receive her, and never did torches gleam on a more +weather-beaten, travel-stained band than came tramping into the court. Such +pale, care-worn faces, such bedraggled dresses, as the poor Duchess and her +females presented, each seated behind her cavalier; while half drenched, half +drowsy pages and attendants seemed ready to fall from their horses with sleep +and fatigue. +</p> + +<p> +“The Duchess was received with a hearty welcome by my ancestors. She was +ushered into the Hall of the chateau, and the fires soon crackled and blazed to +cheer herself and her train; and every spit and stewpan was put in requisition +to prepare ample refreshments for the wayfarers. +</p> + +<p> +“She had a right to our hospitalities,” continued the little Marquis, drawing +himself up with a slight degree of stateliness, “for she was related to our +family. I’ll tell you how it was: Her father, Henry de Bourbon, Prince of +Condé—” +</p> + +<p> +“But did the Duchess pass the night in the chateau?” said my uncle rather +abruptly, terrified at the idea of getting involved in one of the Marquis’s +genealogical discussions. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, as to the Duchess, she was put into the apartment you occupied last night; +which, at that time, was a kind of state apartment. Her followers were +quartered in the chambers opening upon the neighboring corridor, and her +favorite page slept in an adjoining closet. Up and down the corridor walked the +great chasseur, who had announced her arrival, and who acted as a kind of +sentinel or guard. He was a dark, stern, powerful-looking fellow, and as the +light of a lamp in the corridor fell upon his deeply-marked face and sinewy +form, he seemed capable of defending the castle with his single arm. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a rough, rude night; about this time of the year.—<i>Apropos</i>—now I +think of it, last night was the anniversary of her visit. I may well remember +the precise date, for it was a night not to be forgotten by our house. There is +a singular tradition concerning it in our family.” Here the Marquis hesitated, +and a cloud seemed to gather about his bushy eyebrows. “There is a +tradition—that a strange occurrence took place that night—a strange, +mysterious, inexplicable occurrence.” +</p> + +<p> +Here he checked himself and paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Did it relate to that lady?” inquired my uncle, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“It was past the hour of midnight,” resumed the Marquis—“when the whole +chateau—” +</p> + +<p> +Here he paused again—my uncle made a movement of anxious curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me,” said the Marquis—a slight blush streaking his sullen visage. +“There are some circumstances connected with our family history which I do not +like to relate. That was a rude period. A time of great crimes among great men: +for you know high blood, when it runs wrong, will not run tamely like blood of +the <i>canaille</i>—poor lady!—But I have a little family pride, that—excuse +me—we will change the subject if you please.”— +</p> + +<p> +My uncle’s curiosity was piqued. The pompous and magnificent introduction had +led him to expect something wonderful in the story to which it served as a kind +of avenue. He had no idea of being cheated out of it by a sudden fit of +unreasonable squeamishness. Besides, being a traveller, in quest of +information, considered it his duty to inquire into every thing. +</p> + +<p> +The Marquis, however, evaded every question. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said my uncle, a little petulantly, “whatever you may think of it, I +saw that lady last night.” +</p> + +<p> +The Marquis stepped back and gazed at him with surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“She paid me a visit in my bed-chamber.” +</p> + +<p> +The Marquis pulled out his snuff-box with a shrug and a smile; taking it no +doubt for an awkward piece of English pleasantry, which politeness required him +to be charmed with. My uncle went on gravely, however, and related the whole +circumstance. The Marquis heard him through with profound attention, holding +his snuff-box unopened in his hand. When the story was finished he tapped on +the lid of his box deliberately; took a long sonorous pinch of snuff— +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” said the Marquis, and walked toward the other end of the gallery.— +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Here the narrator paused. The company waited for some time for him to resume +his narrative; but he continued silent. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the inquisitive gentleman, “and what did your uncle say then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” replied the other. +</p> + +<p> +“And what did the Marquis say farther?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is that all?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is all,” said the narrator, filling a glass of wine. +</p> + +<p> +“I surmise,” said the shrewd old gentleman with the waggish nose—“I surmise it +was the old housekeeper walking her rounds to see that all was right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” said the narrator, “my uncle was too much accustomed to strange sights +not to know a ghost from a housekeeper!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a murmur round the table half of merriment, half of disappointment. I +was inclined to think the old gentleman had really an afterpart of his story in +reserve; but he sipped his wine and said nothing more; and there was an odd +expression about his dilapidated countenance that left me in doubt whether he +were in drollery or earnest. +</p> + +<p> +“Egad,” said the knowing gentleman with the flexible nose, “this story of your +uncle puts me in mind of one that used to be told of an aunt of mine, by the +mother’s side; though I don’t know that it will bear a comparison; as the good +lady was not quite so prone to meet with strange adventures. But at any rate, +you shall have it.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap03"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF MY AUNT</h3> + +<p> +My aunt was a lady of large frame, strong mind, and great resolution; she was +what might be termed a very manly woman. My uncle was a thin, puny little man, +very meek and acquiescent, and no match for my aunt. It was observed that he +dwindled and dwindled gradually away, from the day of his marriage. His wife’s +powerful mind was too much for him; it wore him out. My aunt, however, took all +possible care of him, had half the doctors in town to prescribe for him, made +him take all their prescriptions, <i>willy nilly</i>, and dosed him with physic +enough to cure a whole hospital. All was in vain. My uncle grew worse and worse +the more dosing and nursing he underwent, until in the end he added another to +the long list of matrimonial victims, who have been killed with kindness. +</p> + +<p> +“And was it his ghost that appeared to her?” asked the inquisitive gentleman, +who had questioned the former storyteller. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall hear,” replied the narrator:—My aunt took on mightily for the death +of her poor dear husband! Perhaps she felt some compunction at having given him +so much physic, and nursed him into his grave. At any rate, she did all that a +widow could do to honor his memory. She spared no expense in either the +quantity or quality of her mourning weeds; she wore a miniature of him about +her neck, as large as a little sun dial; and she had a full-length portrait of +him always hanging in her bed chamber. All the world extolled her conduct to +the skies; and it was determined, that a woman who behaved so well to the +memory of one husband, deserved soon to get another. +</p> + +<p> +It was not long after this that she went to take up her residence in an old +country seat in Derbyshire, which had long been in the care of merely a steward +and housekeeper. She took most of her servants with her, intending to make it +her principal abode. The house stood in a lonely, wild part of the country +among the gray Derbyshire hills; with a murderer hanging in chains on a bleak +height in full view. +</p> + +<p> +The servants from town were half frightened out of their wits, at the idea of +living in such a dismal, pagan-looking place; especially when they got together +in the servants’ hall in the evening, and compared notes on all the hobgoblin +stories they had picked up in the course of the day. They were afraid to +venture alone about the forlorn black-looking chambers. My ladies’ maid, who +was troubled with nerves, declared she could never sleep alone in such a +“gashly, rummaging old building;” and the footman, who was a kind-hearted young +fellow, did all in his power to cheer her up. +</p> + +<p> +My aunt, herself, seemed to be struck with the lonely appearance of the house. +Before she went to bed, therefore, she examined well the fastenings of the +doors and windows, locked up the plate with her own hands, and carried the +keys, together with a little box of money and jewels, to her own room; for she +was a notable woman, and always saw to all things herself. Having put the keys +under her pillow, and dismissed her maid, she sat by her toilet arranging her +hair; for, being, in spite of her grief for my uncle, rather a buxom widow, she +was a little particular about her person. She sat for a little while looking at +her face in the glass, first on one side, then on the other, as ladies are apt +to do, when they would ascertain if they have been in good looks; for a +roystering country squire of the neighborhood, with whom she had flirted when a +girl, had called that day to welcome her to the country. +</p> + +<p> +All of a sudden she thought she heard something move behind her. She Looked +hastily round, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the grimly painted +portrait of her poor dear man, which had been hung against the wall. She gave a +heavy sigh to his memory, as she was accustomed to do, whenever she spoke of +him in company; and went on adjusting her nightdress. Her sigh was re-echoed; +or answered by a long-drawn breath. She looked round again, but no one was to +be seen. She ascribed these sounds to the wind, oozing through the rat holes of +the old mansion; and proceeded leisurely to put her hair in papers, when, all +at once, she thought she perceived one of the eyes of the portrait move. +</p> + +<p> +“The back of her head being towards it!” said the story-teller with the ruined +head, giving a knowing wink on the sound side of his visage—“good!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir!” replied drily the narrator, “her back being towards the portrait, +but her eye fixed on its reflection in the glass.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, as I was saying, she perceived one of the eyes of the portrait move. So +strange a circumstance, as you may well suppose, gave her a sudden shock. To +assure herself cautiously of the fact, she put one hand to her forehead, as if +rubbing it; peeped through her fingers, and moved the candle with the other +hand. The light of the taper gleamed on the eye, and was reflected from it. She +was sure it moved. Nay, more, it seemed to give her a wink, as she had +sometimes known her husband to do when living! It struck a momentary chill to +her heart; for she was a lone woman, and felt herself fearfully situated. +</p> + +<p> +The chill was but transient. My aunt, who was almost as resolute a personage as +your uncle, sir, (turning to the old story-teller,) became instantly calm and +collected. She went on adjusting her dress. She even hummed a favorite air, and +did not make a single false note. She casually overturned a dressing box; took +a candle and picked up the articles leisurely, one by one, from the floor, +pursued a rolling pin-cushion that was making the best of its way under the +bed; then opened the door; looked for an instant into the corridor, as if in +doubt whether to go; and then walked quietly out. +</p> + +<p> +She hastened down-stairs, ordered the servants to arm themselves with the first +weapons that came to hand, placed herself at their head, and returned almost +immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Her hastily levied army presented a formidable force. The steward had a rusty +blunderbuss; the coachman a loaded whip; the footman a pair of horse pistols; +the cook a huge chopping knife, and the butler a bottle in each hand. My aunt +led the van with a red-hot poker; and, in my opinion, she was the most +formidable of the party. The waiting maid brought up the rear, dreading to stay +alone in the servants’ hall, smelling to a broken bottle of volatile salts, and +expressing her terror of the ghosteses. +</p> + +<p> +“Ghosts!” said my aunt resolutely, “I’ll singe their whiskers for them!” +</p> + +<p> +They entered the chamber. All was still and undisturbed as when she left it. +They approached the portrait of my uncle. +</p> + +<p> +“Pull me down that picture!” cried my aunt. +</p> + +<p> +A heavy groan, and a sound like the chattering of teeth, was heard from the +portrait. The servants shrunk back. The maid uttered a faint shriek, and clung +to the footman. +</p> + +<p> +“Instantly!” added my aunt, with a stamp of the foot. +</p> + +<p> +The picture was pulled down, and from a recess behind it, in which had formerly +stood a clock, they hauled forth a round-shouldered, black-bearded varlet, with +a knife as long as my arm, but trembling all over like an aspen leaf. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, and who was he? No ghost, I suppose!” said the inquisitive gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“A knight of the post,” replied the narrator, “who had been smitten with the +worth of the wealthy widow; or rather a marauding Tarquin, who had stolen into +her chamber to violate her purse and rifle her strong box when all the house +should be asleep. In plain terms,” continued he, “the vagabond was a loose idle +fellow of the neighborhood, who had once been a servant in the house, and had +been employed to assist in arranging it for the reception of its mistress. He +confessed that he had contrived his hiding-place for his nefarious purposes, +and had borrowed an eye from the portrait by way of a reconnoitering hole.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did they do with him—did they hang him?” resumed the questioner. +</p> + +<p> +“Hang him?—how could they?” exclaimed a beetle-browed barrister, with a hawk’s +nose—“the offence was not capital—no robbery nor assault had been committed—no +forcible entry or breaking into the premises—” +</p> + +<p> +“My aunt,” said the narrator, “was a woman of spirit, and apt to take the law +into her own hands. She had her own notions of cleanliness also. She ordered +the fellow to be drawn through the horsepond to cleanse away all offences, and +then to be well rubbed down with an oaken towel.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what became of him afterwards?” said the inquisitive gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not exactly know—I believe he was sent on a voyage of improvement to +Botany Bay.” +</p> + +<p> +“And your aunt—” said the inquisitive gentleman—“I’ll warrant she took care to +make her maid sleep in the room with her after that.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, she did better—she gave her hand shortly after to the roystering +squire; for she used to observe it was a dismal thing for a woman to sleep +alone in the country.” +</p> + +<p> +“She was right,” observed the inquisitive gentleman, nodding his head +sagaciously—“but I am sorry they did not hang that fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +It was agreed on all hands that the last narrator had brought his tale to the +most satisfactory conclusion; though a country clergyman present regretted that +the uncle and aunt, who figured in the different stories, had not been married +together. They certainly would have been well matched. +</p> + +<p> +“But I don’t see, after all,” said the inquisitive gentleman, “that there was +any ghost in this last story.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, if it’s ghosts you want, honey,” cried the Irish captain of dragoons, “if +it’s ghosts you want, you shall have a whole regiment of them. And since these +gentlemen have been giving the adventures of their uncles and aunts, faith and +I’ll e’en give you a chapter too, out of my own family history.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap04"></a>THE BOLD DRAGOON;<br/> +OR THE ADVENTURE OF MY GRANDFATHER.</h3> + +<p> +My grandfather was a bold dragoon, for it’s a profession, d’ye see, that has +run in the family. All my forefathers have been dragoons and died upon the +field of honor except myself, and I hope my posterity may be able to say the +same; however, I don’t mean to be vainglorious. Well, my grandfather, as I +said, was a bold dragoon, and had served in the Low Countries. In fact, he was +one of that very army, which, according to my uncle Toby, “swore so terribly in +Flanders.” He could swear a good stick himself; and, moreover, was the very man +that introduced the doctrine Corporal Trim mentions, of radical heat and +radical moisture; or, in other words, the mode of keeping out the damps of +ditch water by burnt brandy. Be that as it may, it’s nothing to the purport of +my story. I only tell it to show you that my grandfather was a man not easily +to be humbugged. He had seen service; or, according to his own phrase, “he had +seen the devil”—and that’s saying everything. +</p> + +<p> +Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was on his way to England, for which he +intended to embark at Ostend;—bad luck to the place for one where I was kept by +storms and head winds for three long days, and the divil of a jolly companion +or pretty face to comfort me. Well, as I was saying, my grandfather was on his +way to England, or rather to Ostend—no matter which, it’s all the same. So one +evening, towards nightfall, he rode jollily into Bruges. Very like you all know +Bruges, gentlemen, a queer, old-fashioned Flemish town, once they say a great +place for trade and money-making, in old times, when the Mynheers were in their +glory; but almost as large and as empty as an Irishman’s pocket at the present +day. +</p> + +<p> +Well, gentlemen, it was the time of the annual fair. All Bruges was crowded; +and the canals swarmed with Dutch boats, and the streets swarmed with Dutch +merchants; and there was hardly any getting along for goods, wares, and +merchandises, and peasants in big breeches, and women in half a score of +petticoats. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather rode jollily along in his easy, slashing way, for he was a +saucy, sunshiny fellow—staring about him at the motley crowd, and the old +houses with gable ends to the street and storks’ nests on the chimneys; winking +at the ya vrouws who showed their faces at the windows, and joking the women +right and left in the street; all of whom laughed and took it in amazing good +part; for though he did not know a word of their language, yet he always had a +knack of making himself understood among the women. +</p> + +<p> +Well, gentlemen, it being the time of the annual fair, all the town was +crowded; every inn and tavern full, and my grandfather applied in vain from one +to the other for admittance. At length he rode up to an old rackety inn that +looked ready to fall to pieces, and which all the rats would have run away +from, if they could have found room in any other house to put their heads. It +was just such a queer building as you see in Dutch pictures, with a tall roof +that reached up into the clouds; and as many garrets, one over the other, as +the seven heavens of Mahomet. Nothing had saved it from tumbling down but a +stork’s nest on the chimney, which always brings good luck to a house in the +Low Countries; and at the very time of my grandfather’s arrival, there were two +of these long-legged birds of grace, standing like ghosts on the chimney top. +Faith, but they’ve kept the house on its legs to this very day; for you may see +it any time you pass through Bruges, as it stands there yet; only it is turned +into a brewery—a brewery of strong Flemish beer; at least it was so when I came +that way after the battle of Waterloo. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather eyed the house curiously as he approached. It might Not +altogether have struck his fancy, had he not seen in large letters over the +door, +</p> + +<p class="center"> +HEER VERKOOPT MAN GOEDEN DRANK. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather had learnt enough of the language to know that the sign promised +good liquor. “This is the house for me,” said he, stopping short before the +door. +</p> + +<p> +The sudden appearance of a dashing dragoon was an event in an old inn, +frequented only by the peaceful sons of traffic. A rich burgher of Antwerp, a +stately ample man, in a broad Flemish hat, and who was the great man and great +patron of the establishment, sat smoking a clean long pipe on one side of the +door; a fat little distiller of Geneva from Schiedam, sat smoking on the other, +and the bottle-nosed host stood in the door, and the comely hostess, in crimped +cap, beside him; and the hostess’ daughter, a plump Flanders lass, with long +gold pendants in her ears, was at a side window. +</p> + +<p> +“Humph!” said the rich burgher of Antwerp, with a sulky glance at the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +“Der duyvel!” said the fat little distiller of Schiedam. +</p> + +<p> +The landlord saw with the quick glance of a publican that the new guest was not +at all, at all, to the taste of the old ones; and to tell the truth, he did not +himself like my grandfather’s saucy eye. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head—“Not a garret in the house but was full.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a garret!” echoed the landlady. +</p> + +<p> +“Not a garret!” echoed the daughter. +</p> + +<p> +The burgher of Antwerp and the little distiller of Schiedam continued to smoke +their pipes sullenly, eyed the enemy askance from under their broad hats, but +said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather was not a man to be browbeaten. He threw the reins on his +horse’s neck, cocked his hat on one side, stuck one arm akimbo, slapped his +broad thigh with the other hand— +</p> + +<p> +“Faith and troth!” said he, “but I’ll sleep in this house this very night!” +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather had on a tight pair of buckskins—the slap went to the landlady’s +heart. +</p> + +<p> +He followed up the vow by jumping off his horse, and making his way past the +staring Mynheers into the public room. May be you’ve been in the barroom of an +old Flemish inn—faith, but a handsome chamber it was as you’d wish to see; with +a brick floor, a great fire-place, with the whole Bible history in glazed +tiles; and then the mantel-piece, pitching itself head foremost out of the +wall, with a whole regiment of cracked tea-pots and earthen jugs paraded on it; +not to mention half a dozen great Delft platters hung about the room by way of +pictures; and the little bar in one corner, and the bouncing bar-maid inside of +it with a red calico cap and yellow ear-drops. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather snapped his fingers over his head, as he cast an eye round the +room: “Faith, this is the very house I’ve been looking after,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +There was some farther show of resistance on the part of the garrison, but my +grandfather was an old soldier, and an Irishman to boot, and not easily +repulsed, especially after he had got into the fortress. So he blarney’d the +landlord, kissed the landlord’s wife, tickled the landlord’s daughter, chucked +the bar-maid under the chin; and it was agreed on all hands that it would be a +thousand pities, and a burning shame into the bargain, to turn such a bold +dragoon into the streets. So they laid their heads together, that is to say, my +grandfather and the landlady, and it was at length agreed to accommodate him +with an old chamber that had for some time been shut up. +</p> + +<p> +“Some say it’s haunted!” whispered the landlord’s daughter, “but you’re a bold +dragoon, and I dare say you don’t fear ghosts.” +</p> + +<p> +“The divil a bit!” said my grandfather, pinching her plump cheek; “but if I +should be troubled by ghosts, I’ve been to the Red Sea in my time, and have a +pleasant way of laying them, my darling!” +</p> + +<p> +And then he whispered something to the girl which made her laugh, and give him +a good-humored box on the ear. In short, there was nobody knew better how to +make his way among the petticoats than my grandfather. +</p> + +<p> +In a little while, as was his usual way, he took complete possession of the +house: swaggering all over it;—into the stable to look after his horse; into +the kitchen to look after his supper. He had something to say or do with every +one; smoked with the Dutchmen; drank with the Germans; slapped the men on the +shoulders, tickled the women under the ribs:-never since the days of Ally +Croaker had such a rattling blade been seen. The landlord stared at him with +astonishment; the landlord’s daughter hung her head and giggled whenever he +came near; and as he turned his back and swaggered along, his tight jacket +setting off his broad shoulders and plump buckskins, and his long sword +trailing by his side, the maids whispered to one another—“What a proper man!” +</p> + +<p> +At supper my grandfather took command of the table d’hôte as though he had been +at home; helped everybody, not forgetting himself; talked with every one, +whether he understood their language or not; and made his way into the intimacy +of the rich burgher of Antwerp, who had never been known to be sociable with +any one during his life. In fact, he revolutionized the whole establishment, +and gave it such a rouse, that the very house reeled with it. He outsat every +one at table excepting the little fat distiller of Schiedam, who had sat +soaking for a long time before he broke forth; but when he did, he was a very +devil incarnate. He took a violent affection for my grandfather; so they sat +drinking, and smoking, and telling stories, and singing Dutch and Irish songs, +without understanding a word each other said, until the little Hollander was +fairly swampt with his own gin and water, and carried off to bed, whooping and +hiccuping, and trolling the burthen of a Low Dutch love song. +</p> + +<p> +Well, gentlemen, my grandfather was shown to his quarters, up a huge Staircase +composed of loads of hewn timber; and through long rigmarole passages, hung +with blackened paintings of fruit, and fish, and game, and country frollics, +and huge kitchens, and portly burgomasters, such as you see about old-fashioned +Flemish inns, till at length he arrived at his room. +</p> + +<p> +An old-times chamber it was, sure enough, and crowded with all kinds of +trumpery. It looked like an infirmary for decayed and superannuated furniture; +where everything diseased and disabled was sent to nurse, or to be forgotten. +Or rather, it might have been taken for a general congress of old legitimate +moveables, where every kind and country had a representative. No two chairs +were alike: such high backs and low backs, and leather bottoms and worsted +bottoms, and straw bottoms, and no bottoms; and cracked marble tables with +curiously carved legs, holding balls in their claws, as though they were going +to play at ninepins. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather made a bow to the motley assemblage as he entered, and having +undressed himself, placed his light in the fire-place, asking pardon of the +tongs, which seemed to be making love to the shovel in the chimney corner, and +whispering soft nonsense in its ear. +</p> + +<p> +The rest of the guests were by this time sound asleep; for your Mynheers are +huge sleepers. The house maids, one by one, crept up yawning to their attics, +and not a female head in the inn was laid on a pillow that night without +dreaming of the Bold Dragoon. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather, for his part, got into bed, and drew over him one of those +great bags of down, under which they smother a man in the Low Countries; and +there he lay, melting between, two feather beds, like an anchovy sandwich +between two slices of toast and butter. He was a warm-complexioned man, and +this smothering played the very deuce with him. So, sure enough, in a little +while it seemed as if a legion of imps were twitching at him and all the blood +in his veins was in fever heat. +</p> + +<p> +He lay still, however, until all the house was quiet, excepting the snoring of +the Mynheers from the different chambers; who answered one another in all kinds +of tones and cadences, like so many bull-frogs in a swamp. The quieter the +house became, the more unquiet became my grandfather. He waxed warmer and +warmer, until at length the bed became too hot to hold him. +</p> + +<p> +“May be the maid had warmed it too much?” said the curious gentleman, +inquiringly. +</p> + +<p> +“I rather think the contrary,” replied the Irishman. “But be that as it may, it +grew too hot for my grandfather.” +</p> + +<p> +“Faith there’s no standing this any longer,” says he; so he jumped out of bed +and went strolling about the house. +</p> + +<p> +“What for?” said the inquisitive gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, to cool himself to be sure,” replied the other, “or perhaps to find a +more comfortable bed—or perhaps—but no matter what he went for—he never +mentioned; and there’s no use in taking up our time in conjecturing.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, my grandfather had been for some time absent from his room, and was +returning, perfectly cool, when just as he reached the door he heard a strange +noise within. He paused and listened. It seemed as if some one was trying to +hum a tune in defiance of the asthma. He recollected the report of the room’s +being haunted; but he was no believer in ghosts. So he pushed the door gently +ajar, and peeped in. +</p> + +<p> +Egad, gentlemen, there was a gambol carrying on within enough to have +astonished St. Anthony. +</p> + +<p> +By the light of the fire he saw a pale weazen-faced fellow in a long Flannel +gown and a tall white night-cap with a tassel to it, who sat by the fire, with +a bellows under his arm by way of bagpipe, from which he forced the asthmatical +music that had bothered my grandfather. As he played, too, he kept twitching +about with a thousand queer contortions; nodding his head and bobbing about his +tasselled night-cap. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather thought this very odd, and mighty presumptuous, and was about to +demand what business he had to play his wind instruments in another gentleman’s +quarters, when a new cause of astonishment met his eye. From the opposite side +of the room a long-backed, bandy-legged chair, covered with leather, and +studded all over in a coxcomical fashion with little brass nails, got suddenly +into motion; thrust out first a claw foot, then a crooked arm, and at length, +making a leg, slided gracefully up to an easy chair, of tarnished brocade, with +a hole in its bottom, and led it gallantly out in a ghostly minuet about the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +The musician now played fiercer and fiercer, and bobbed his head and His +nightcap about like mad. By degrees the dancing mania seemed to seize upon all +the other pieces of furniture. The antique, long-bodied chairs paired off in +couples and led down a country dance; a three-legged stool danced a hornpipe, +though horribly puzzled by its supernumerary leg; while the amorous tongs +seized the shovel round the waist, and whirled it about the room in a German +waltz. In short, all the moveables got in motion, capering about; pirouetting, +hands across, right and left, like so many devils, all except a great +clothes-press, which kept curtseying and curtseying, like a dowager, in one +corner, in exquisite time to the music;—being either too corpulent to dance, or +perhaps at a loss for a partner. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather concluded the latter to be the reason; so, being, like a true +Irishman, devoted to the sex, and at all times ready for a frolic, he bounced +into the room, calling to the musician to strike up “Paddy O’Rafferty,” capered +up to the clothes-press and seized upon two handles to lead her out:—When, +whizz!—the whole revel was at an end. The chairs, tables, tongs, and shovel +slunk in an instant as quietly into their places as if nothing had happened; +and the musician vanished up the chimney, leaving the bellows behind him in his +hurry. My grandfather found himself seated in the middle of the floor, with the +clothes-press sprawling before him, and the two handles jerked off and in his +hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Then after all, this was a mere dream!” said the inquisitive gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“The divil a bit of a dream!” replied the Irishman: “there never was a truer +fact in this world. Faith, I should have liked to see any man tell my +grandfather it was a dream.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, gentlemen, as the clothes-press was a mighty heavy body, and my +grandfather likewise, particularly in rear, you may easily suppose two such +heavy bodies coming to the ground would make a bit of a noise. Faith, the old +mansion shook as though it had mistaken it for an earthquake. The whole +garrison was alarmed. The landlord, who slept just below, hurried up with a +candle to inquire the cause, but with all his haste his daughter had hurried to +the scene of uproar before him. The landlord was followed by the landlady, who +was followed by the bouncing bar-maid, who was followed by the simpering +chambermaids all holding together, as well as they could, such garments as they +had first lain hands on; but all in a terrible hurry to see what the devil was +to pay in the chamber of the bold dragoon. +</p> + +<p> +My grandfather related the marvellous scene he had witnessed, and the prostrate +clothes-press, and the broken handles, bore testimony to the fact. There was no +contesting such evidence; particularly with a lad of my grandfather’s +complexion, who seemed able to make good every word either with sword or +shillelah. So the landlord scratched his head and looked silly, as he was apt +to do when puzzled. The landlady scratched—no, she did not scratch her +head,—but she knit her brow, and did not seem half pleased with the +explanation. But the landlady’s daughter corroborated it by recollecting that +the last person who had dwelt in that chamber was a famous juggler who had died +of St. Vitus’s dance, and no doubt had infected all the furniture. +</p> + +<p> +This set all things to rights, particularly when the chambermaids declared that +they had all witnessed strange carryings on in that room;—and as they declared +this “upon their honors,” there could not remain a doubt upon the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“And did your grandfather go to bed again in that room?” said the inquisitive +gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s more than I can tell. Where he passed the rest of the night was a +secret he never disclosed. In fact, though he had seen much service, he was but +indifferently acquainted with geography, and apt to make blunders in his +travels about inns at night, that it would have puzzled him sadly to account +for in the morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he ever apt to walk in his sleep?” said the knowing old gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“Never that I heard of.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap05"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE GERMAN STUDENT</h3> + +<p> +On a stormy night, in the tempestuous times of the French revolution, a young +German was returning to his lodgings, at a late hour, across the old part of +Paris. The lightning gleamed, and the loud claps of thunder rattled through the +lofty, narrow streets—but I should first tell you something about this young +German. +</p> + +<p> +Gottfried Wolfgang was a young man of good family. He had studied for some time +at Göttingen, but being of a visionary and enthusiastic character, he had +wandered into those wild and speculative doctrines which have so often +bewildered German students. His secluded life, his intense application, and the +singular nature of his studies, had an effect on both mind and body. His health +was impaired; his imagination diseased. He had been indulging in fanciful +speculations on spiritual essences until, like Swedenborg, he had an ideal +world of his own around him. He took up a notion, I do not know from what +cause, that there was an evil influence hanging over him; an evil genius or +spirit seeking to ensnare him and ensure his perdition. Such an idea working on +his melancholy temperament produced the most gloomy effects. He became haggard +and desponding. His friends discovered the mental malady preying upon him, and +determined that the best cure was a change of scene; he was sent, therefore, to +finish his studies amidst the splendours and gaieties of Paris. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfgang arrived at Paris at the breaking out of the revolution. The popular +delirium at first caught his enthusiastic mind, and he was captivated by the +political and philosophical theories of the day: but the scenes of blood which +followed shocked his sensitive nature; disgusted him with society and the +world, and made him more than ever a recluse. He shut himself up in a solitary +apartment in the <i>Pays Latin</i>, the quarter of students. There in a gloomy +street not far from the monastic walls of the Sorbonne, he pursued his +favourite speculations. Sometimes he spent hours together in the great +libraries of Paris, those catacombs of departed authors, rummaging among their +hoards of dusty and obsolete works in quest of food for his unhealthy appetite. +He was, in a manner, a literary goul, feeding in the charnel house of decayed +literature. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfgang, though solitary and recluse, was of an ardent temperament, but for a +time it operated merely upon his imagination. He was too shy and ignorant of +the world to make any advances to the fair, but he was a passionate admirer of +female beauty, and in his lonely chamber would often lose himself in reveries +on forms and faces which he had seen, and his fancy would deck out images of +loveliness far surpassing the reality. +</p> + +<p> +While his mind was in this excited and sublimated state, a dream produced an +extraordinary effect upon him. It was of a female face of transcendent beauty. +So strong was the impression made, that he dreamt of it again and again. It +haunted his thoughts by day, his slumbers by night; in fine, he became +passionately enamoured of this shadow of a dream. This lasted so long, that it +became one of those fixed ideas which haunt the minds of melancholy men, and +are at times mistaken for madness. +</p> + +<p> +Such was Gottfried Wolfgang, and such his situation at the time I mentioned. He +was returning home late one stormy night, through some of the old and gloomy +streets of the <i>Marais</i>, the ancient part of Paris. The loud claps of +thunder rattled among the high houses of the narrow streets. He came to the +Place de Grève, the square where public executions are performed. The lightning +quivered about the pinnacles of the ancient Hôtel de Ville, and shed flickering +gleams over the open space in front. As Wolfgang was crossing the square, he +shrank back with horror at finding himself close by the guillotine. It was the +height of the reign of terror, when this dreadful instrument of death stood +ever ready, and its scaffold was continually running with the blood of the +virtuous and the brave. It had that very day been actively employed in the work +of carnage, and there it stood in grim array amidst a silent and sleeping city, +waiting for fresh victims. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfgang’s heart sickened within him, and he was turning shuddering from the +horrible engine, when he beheld a shadowy form cowering as it were at the foot +of the steps which led up to the scaffold. A succession of vivid flashes of +lightning revealed it more distinctly. It was a female figure, dressed inblack. +She was seated on one of the lower steps of the scaffold, leaning forward, her +face hid in her lap, and her long dishevelled tresses hanging to the ground, +streaming with the rain which fell in torrents. Wolfgang paused. There was +something awful in this solitary monument of wo. The female had the appearance +of being above the common order. He knew the times to be full of vicissitude, +and that many a fair head, which had once been pillowed on down, now wandered +houseless. Perhaps this was some poor mourner whom the dreadful axe had +rendered desolate, and who sat here heartbroken on the strand of existence, +from which all that was dear to her had been launched into eternity. +</p> + +<p> +He approached, and addressed her in the accents of sympathy. She raised her +head and gazed wildly at him. What was his astonishment at beholding, by the +bright glare of the lightning, the very face which had haunted him in his +dreams. It was pale and disconsolate, but ravishingly beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +Trembling with violent and conflicting emotions, Wolfgang again accosted her. +He spoke something of her being exposed at such an hour of the night, and to +the fury of such a storm, and offered to conduct her to her friends. She +pointed to the guillotine with a gesture of dreadful signification. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no friend on earth!” said she. +</p> + +<p> +“But you have a home,” said Wolfgang. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—in the grave!” +</p> + +<p> +The heart of the student melted at the words. +</p> + +<p> +“If a stranger dare make an offer,” said he, “without danger of being +misunderstood, I would offer my humble dwelling as a shelter; myself as a +devoted friend. I am friendless myself in Paris, and a stranger in the land; +but if my life could be of service, it is at your disposal, and should be +sacrificed before harm or indignity should come to you.” +</p> + +<p> +There was an honest earnestness in the young man’s manner that had its effect. +His foreign accent, too, was in his favour; it showed him not to be a hackneyed +inhabitant of Paris. Indeed there is an eloquence in true enthusiasm that is +not to be doubted. The homeless stranger confided herself implicitly to the +protection of the student. +</p> + +<p> +He supported her faltering steps across the Pont Neuf, and by the place where +the statue of Henry the Fourth had been overthrown by the populace. The storm +had abated, and the thunder rumbled at a distance. All Paris was quiet; that +great volcano of human passion slumbered for a while, to gather fresh strength +for the next day’s eruption. The student conducted his charge through the +ancient streets of the <i>Pays Latin</i>, and by the dusky walls of the +Sorbonne to the great, dingy hotel which he inhabited. The old portress who +admitted them stared with surprise at the unusual sight of the melancholy +Wolfgang with a female companion. +</p> + +<p> +On entering his apartment, the student, for the first time, blushed at the +scantiness and indifference of his dwelling. He had but one chamber—an old +fashioned saloon—heavily carved and fantastically furnished with the remains of +former magnificence, for it was one of those hotels in the quarter of the +Luxembourg palace which had once belonged to nobility. It was lumbered with +books and papers, and all the usual apparatus of a student, and his bed stood +in a recess at one end. +</p> + +<p> +When lights were brought, and Wolfgang had a better opportunity of +contemplating the stranger, he was more than ever intoxicated by her beauty. +Her face was pale, but of a dazzling fairness, set off by a profusion of raven +hair that hung clustering about it. Her eyes were large and brilliant, with a +singular expression approaching almost to wildness. As far as her black dress +permitted her shape to be seen, it was of perfect symmetry. Her whole +appearance was highly striking, though she was dressed in the simplest style. +The only thing approaching to an ornament which she wore was a broad, black +band round her neck, clasped by diamonds. +</p> + +<p> +The perplexity now commenced with the student how to dispose of the helpless +being thus thrown upon his protection. He thought of abandoning his chamber to +her, and seeking shelter for himself elsewhere. Still he was so fascinated by +her charms, there seemed to be such a spell upon his thoughts and senses, that +he could not tear himself from her presence. Her manner, too, was singular and +unaccountable. She spoke no more of the guillotine. Her grief had abated. The +attentions of the student had first won her confidence, and then, apparently, +her heart. She was evidently an enthusiast like himself, and enthusiasts soon +understand each other. +</p> + +<p> +In the infatuation of the moment Wolfgang avowed his passion for her. He told +her the story of his mysterious dream, and how she had possessed his heart +before he had even seen her. She was strangely affected by his recital, and +acknowledged to have felt an impulse towards him equally unaccountable. It was +the time for wild theory and wild actions. Old prejudices and superstitions +were done away; every thing was under the sway of the “Goddess of Reason.” +Among other rubbish of the old times, the forms and ceremonies of marriage +began to be considered superfluous bonds for honourable minds. Social compacts +were the vogue. Wolfgang was too much of a theorist not to be tainted by the +liberal doctrines of the day. +</p> + +<p> +“Why should we separate?” said he: “our hearts are united; in the eye of reason +and honour we are as one. What need is there of sordid forms to bind high souls +together?” +</p> + +<p> +The stranger listened with emotion: she had evidently received illumination at +the same school. +</p> + +<p> +“You have no home nor family,” continued he; “let me be every thing to you, or +rather let us be every thing to one another. If form is necessary, form shall +be observed—there is my hand. I pledge myself to you for ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“For ever?” said the stranger, solemnly. +</p> + +<p> +“For ever!” repeated Wolfgang. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger clasped the hand extended to her: “Then I am yours,” murmured she, +and sank upon his bosom. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning the student left his bride sleeping, and sallied forth at an +early hour to seek more spacious apartments, suitable to the change in his +situation. When he returned, he found the stranger lying with her head hanging +over the bed, and one arm thrown over it. He spoke to her, but received no +reply. He advanced to awaken her from her uneasy posture. On taking her hand, +it was cold—there was no pulsation—her face was pallid and ghastly.—In a +word—she was a corpse. +</p> + +<p> +Horrified and frantic, he alarmed the house. A scene of confusion ensued. The +police was summoned. As the officer of police entered the room, he started back +on beholding the corpse. +</p> + +<p> +“Great heaven!” cried he, “how did this woman come here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know any thing about her?” said Wolfgang, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Do I?” exclaimed the police officer: “she was guillotined yesterday!” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped forward; undid the black collar round the neck of the corpse, and +the head rolled on the floor! +</p> + +<p> +The student burst into a frenzy. “The fiend! the fiend has gained possession of +me!” shrieked he: “I am lost for ever!” +</p> + +<p> +They tried to soothe him, but in vain. He was possessed with the frightful +belief that an evil spirit had reanimated the dead body to ensnare him. He went +distracted, and died in a madhouse. +</p> + +<p> +Here the old gentleman with the haunted head finished his narrative. +</p> + +<p> +“And is this really a fact?” said the inquisitive gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“A fact not to be doubted,” replied the other. “I had it from the best +authority. The student told it me himself. I saw him in a madhouse at Paris.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap06"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE MYSTERIOUS PICTURE</h3> + +<p> +As one story of the kind produces another, and as all the company seemed fully +engrossed by the topic, and disposed to bring their relatives and ancestors +upon the scene, there is no knowing how many more ghost adventures we might +have heard, had not a corpulent old fox-hunter, who had slept soundly through +the whole, now suddenly awakened, with a loud and long-drawn yawn. The sound +broke the charm; the ghosts took to flight as though it had been cock-crowing, +and there was a universal move for bed. +</p> + +<p> +“And now for the haunted chamber,” said the Irish captain, taking his candle. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, who’s to be the hero of the night?” said the gentleman with the ruined +head. +</p> + +<p> +“That we shall see in the morning,” said the old gentleman with the nose: +“whoever looks pale and grizzly will have seen the ghost.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gentlemen,” said the Baronet, “there’s many a true thing said in jest. +In fact, one of you will sleep in a room to-night—” +</p> + +<p> +“What—a haunted room? a haunted room? I claim the adventure—and I—and I—and I,” +cried a dozen guests, talking and laughing at the same time. +</p> + +<p> +“No—no,” said mine host, “there is a secret about one of my rooms on which I +feel disposed to try an experiment. So, gentlemen, none of you shall know who +has the haunted chamber, until circumstances reveal it. I will not even know it +myself, but will leave it to chance and the allotment of the housekeeper. At +the same time, if it will be any satisfaction to you, I will observe, for the +honor of my paternal mansion, that there’s scarcely a chamber in it but is well +worthy of being haunted.” +</p> + +<p> +We now separated for the night, and each went to his allotted room. Mine was in +one wing of the building, and I could not but smile at its resemblance in style +to those eventful apartments described in the tales of the supper table. It was +spacious and gloomy, decorated with lamp-black portraits, a bed of ancient +damask, with a tester sufficiently lofty to grace a couch of state, and a +number of massive pieces of old-fashioned furniture. I drew a great claw-footed +arm-chair before the wide fire-place; stirred up the fire; sat looking into it, +and musing upon the odd stories I had heard; until, partly overcome by the +fatigue of the day’s hunting, and partly by the wine and wassail of mine host, +I fell asleep in my chair. +</p> + +<p> +The uneasiness of my position made my slumber troubled, and laid me at the +mercy of all kinds of wild and fearful dreams; now it was that my perfidious +dinner and supper rose in rebellion against my peace. I was hag-ridden by a fat +saddle of mutton; a plum pudding weighed like lead upon my conscience; the +merry thought of a capon filled me with horrible suggestions; and a devilled +leg of a turkey stalked in all kinds of diabolical shapes through my +imagination. In short, I had a violent fit of the nightmare. Some strange +indefinite evil seemed hanging over me that I could not avert; something +terrible and loathsome oppressed me that I could not shake off. I was conscious +of being asleep, and strove to rouse myself, but every effort redoubled the +evil; until gasping, struggling, almost strangling, I suddenly sprang bolt +upright in my chair, and awoke. +</p> + +<p> +The light on the mantel-piece had burnt low, and the wick was divided; there +was a great winding sheet made by the dripping wax, on the side towards me. The +disordered taper emitted a broad flaring flame, and threw a strong light on a +painting over the fire-place, which I had not hitherto observed. +</p> + +<p> +It consisted merely of a head, or rather a face, that appeared to be staring +full upon me, and with an expression that was startling. It was without a +frame, and at the first glance I could hardly persuade myself that it was not a +real face, thrusting itself out of the dark oaken pannel. I sat in my chair +gazing at it, and the more I gazed the more it disquieted me. I had never +before been affected in the same way by any painting. The emotions it caused +were strange and indefinite. They were something like what I have heard +ascribed to the eyes of the basilisk; or like that mysterious influence in +reptiles termed fascination. I passed my hand over my eyes several times, as if +seeking instinctively to brush away this allusion—in vain—they instantly +reverted to the picture, and its chilling, creeping influence over my flesh was +redoubled. +</p> + +<p> +I looked around the room on other pictures, either to divert my attention, or +to see whether the same effect would be produced by them. Some of them were +grim enough to produce the effect, if the mere grimness of the painting +produced it—no such thing. My eye passed over them all with perfect +indifference, but the moment it reverted to this visage over the fire-place, it +was as if an electric shock darted through me. The other pictures were dim and +faded; but this one protruded from a plain black ground in the strongest +relief, and with wonderful truth of coloring. The expression was that of +agony—the agony of intense bodily pain; but a menace scowled upon the brow, and +a few sprinklings of blood added to its ghastliness. Yet it was not all these +characteristics—it was some horror of the mind, some inscrutable antipathy +awakened by this picture, which harrowed up my feelings. +</p> + +<p> +I tried to persuade myself that this was chimerical; that my brain was confused +by the fumes of mine host’s good cheer, and, in some measure, by the odd +stories about paintings which had been told at supper. I determined to shake +off these vapors of the mind; rose from my chair, and walked about the room; +snapped my fingers; rallied myself; laughed aloud. It was a forced laugh, and +the echo of it in the old chamber jarred upon my ear. I walked to the window; +tried to discern the landscape through the glass. It was pitch darkness, and +howling storm without; and as I heard the wind moan among the trees, I caught a +reflection of this accursed visage in the pane of glass, as though it were +staring through the window at me. Even the reflection of it was thrilling. +</p> + +<p> +How was this vile nervous fit, for such I now persuaded myself it was, to be +conquered? I determined to force myself not to look at the painting but to +undress quickly and get into bed. I began to undress, but in spite of every +effort I could not keep myself from stealing a glance every now and then at the +picture; and a glance was now sufficient to distress me. Even when my back was +turned to it, the idea of this strange face behind me, peering over my +shoulder, was insufferable. I threw off my clothes and hurried into bed; but +still this visage gazed upon me. I had a full view of it from my bed, and for +some time could not take my eyes from it. I had grown nervous to a dismal +degree. +</p> + +<p> +I put out the light, and tried to force myself to sleep;—all in vain! The fire +gleaming up a little, threw an uncertain light about the room, leaving, +however, the region of the picture in deep shadow. What, thought I, if this be +the chamber about which mine host spoke as having a mystery reigning over it?—I +had taken his words merely as spoken in jest; might they have a real import? I +looked around. The faintly lighted apartment had all the qualifications +requisite for a haunted chamber. It began in my infected imagination to assume +strange appearances. The old portraits turned paler and paler, and blacker and +blacker; the streaks of light and shadow thrown among the quaint old articles +of furniture, gave them singular shapes and characters. There was a huge dark +clothes-press of antique form, gorgeous in brass and lustrous with wax, that +began to grow oppressive to me. +</p> + +<p> +Am I then, thought I, indeed, the hero of the haunted room? Is there really a +spell laid upon me, or is this all some contrivance of mine host, to raise a +laugh at my expense? The idea of being hag-ridden by my own fancy all night, +and then bantered on my haggard looks the next day was intolerable; but the +very idea was sufficient to produce the effect, and to render me still more +nervous. Pish, said I, it can be no such thing. How could my worthy host +imagine that I, or any man would be so worried by a mere picture? It is my own +diseased imagination that torments me. I turned in my bed, and shifted from +side to side, to try to fall asleep; but all in vain. When one cannot get +asleep by lying quiet, it is seldom that tossing about will effect the purpose. +The fire gradually went out and left the room in darkness. Still I had the idea +of this inexplicable countenance gazing and keeping watch upon me through the +darkness. Nay, what was worse, the very darkness seemed to give it additional +power, and to multiply its terrors. It was like having an unseen enemy hovering +about one in the night. Instead of having one picture now to worry me, I had a +hundred. I fancied it in every direction. And there it is, thought I,—and +there, and there,—with its horrible and mysterious expression, still gazing and +gazing on me. No if I must suffer this strange and dismal influence, it were +better face a single foe, than thus be haunted by a thousand images of it. +</p> + +<p> +Whoever has been in such a state of nervous agitation must know that the longer +it continues, the more uncontrollable it grows; the very air of the chamber +seemed at length infected by the baleful presence of this picture. I fancied it +hovering over me. I almost felt the fearful visage from the wall approaching my +face,—it seemed breathing upon me. This is not to be borne, said I, at length, +springing out of bed. I can stand this no longer. I shall only tumble and toss +about here all night; make a very spectre of myself, and become the hero of the +haunted chamber in good earnest. Whatever be the consequence. I’ll quit this +cursed room, and seek a night’s rest elsewhere. They can but laugh at me at all +events, and they’ll be sure to have the laugh upon me if I pass a sleepless +night and show them a haggard and wo-begone visage in the morning. +</p> + +<p> +All this was half muttered to myself, as I hastily slipped on my clothes; which +having done, I groped my way out of the room, and down-stairs to the +drawing-room. Here, after tumbling over two or three pieces of furniture, I +made out to reach a sofa, and stretching myself upon it determined to bivouac +there for the night. +</p> + +<p> +The moment I found myself out of the neighborhood of that strange picture, it +seemed as if the charm were broken. All its influence was at an end. I felt +assured that it was confined to its own dreary chamber, for I had, with a sort +of instinctive caution, turned the key when I closed the door. I soon calmed +down, therefore, into a state of tranquillity; from that into a drowsiness, and +finally into a deep sleep; out of which I did not awake, until the housemaid, +with her besom and her matin song, came to put the room in order. She stared at +finding me stretched upon the sofa; but I presume circumstances of the kind +were not uncommon after hunting dinners, in her master’s bachelor +establishment; for she went on with her song and her work, and took no farther +heed of me. +</p> + +<p> +I had an unconquerable repugnance to return to my chamber; so I found my way to +the butler’s quarters, made my toilet in the best way circumstances would +permit, and was among the first to appear at the breakfast table. Our breakfast +was a substantial fox-hunter’s repast, and the company were generally assembled +at it. When ample justice had been done to the tea, coffee, cold meats, and +humming ale, for all these were furnished in abundance, according to the tastes +of the different guests, the conversation began to break out, with all the +liveliness and freshness of morning mirth. +</p> + +<p> +“But who is the hero of the haunted chamber?—Who has seen the ghost last +night?” said the inquisitive gentleman, rolling his lobster eyes about the +table. +</p> + +<p> +The question set every tongue in motion; a vast deal of bantering; criticising +of countenances; of mutual accusation and retort took place. Some had drunk +deep, and some were unshaven, so that there were suspicious faces enough in the +assembly. I alone could not enter with ease and vivacity into the joke. I felt +tongue-tied—embarrassed. A recollection of what I had seen and felt the +preceding night still haunted my mind. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed as if the mysterious picture still held a thrall upon me. I thought +also that our host’s eye was turned on me with an air of curiosity. In short, I +was conscious that I was the hero of the night, and felt as if every one might +read it in my looks. +</p> + +<p> +The jokes, however, passed over, and no suspicion seemed to attach to me. I was +just congratulating myself on my escape, when a servant came in, saying, that +the gentleman who had slept on the sofa in the drawing-room, had left his watch +under one of the pillows. My repeater was in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” said the inquisitive gentleman, “did any gentleman sleep on the sofa?” +</p> + +<p> +“Soho! soho! a hare—a hare!” cried the old gentleman with the flexible nose. +</p> + +<p> +I could not avoid acknowledging the watch, and was rising in great confusion, +when a boisterous old squire who sat beside me, exclaimed, slapping me on the +shoulder, “’Sblood, lad! thou’rt the man as has seen the ghost!” +</p> + +<p> +The attention of the company was immediately turned to me; if my face had been +pale the moment before, it now glowed almost to burning. I tried to laugh, but +could only make a grimace; and found all the muscles of my face twitching at +sixes and sevens, and totally out of all control. +</p> + +<p> +It takes but little to raise a laugh among a set of fox-hunters. There was a +world of merriment and joking at my expense; and as I never relished a joke +overmuch when it was at my own expense, I began to feel a little nettled. I +tried to look cool and calm and to restrain my pique; but the coolness and +calmness of a man in a passion are confounded treacherous. +</p> + +<p> +Gentlemen, said I, with a slight cocking of the chin, and a bad attempt at a +smile, this is all very pleasant—ha! ha!—very pleasant—but I’d have you know I +am as little superstitious as any of you—ha! ha!—and as to anything like +timidity—you may smile, gentlemen—but I trust there is no one here means to +insinuate that.—As to a room’s being haunted, I repeat, gentlemen—(growing a +little warm at seeing a cursed grin breaking out round me)—as to a room’s being +haunted, I have as little faith in such silly stories as any one. But, since +you put the matter home to me, I will say that I have met with something in my +room strange and inexplicable to me—(a shout of laughter). Gentlemen, I am +serious—I know well what I am saying—I am calm, gentlemen, (striking my flat +upon the table)—by heaven I am calm. I am neither trifling, nor do I wish to be +trifled with—(the laughter of the company suppressed with ludicrous attempts at +gravity). There is a picture in the room in which I was put last night, that +has had an effect upon me the most singular and incomprehensible. +</p> + +<p> +“A picture!” said the old gentleman with the haunted head. “A picture!” cried +the narrator with the waggish nose. “A picture! a picture!” echoed several +voices. Here there was an ungovernable peal of laughter. +</p> + +<p> +I could not contain myself. I started up from my seat—looked round on the +company with fiery indignation—thrust both my hands into my pockets, and strode +up to one of the windows, as though I would have walked through it. I stopped +short; looked out upon the landscape without distinguishing a feature of it; +and felt my gorge rising almost to suffocation. +</p> + +<p> +Mine host saw it was time to interfere. He had maintained an air of Gravity +through the whole of the scene, and now stepped forth as if to shelter me from +the overwhelming merriment of my companions. +</p> + +<p> +“Gentlemen,” said he, “I dislike to spoil sport, but you have had your laugh, +and the joke of the haunted chamber has been enjoyed. I must now take the part +of my guest. I must not only vindicate him from your pleasantries, but I must +reconcile him to himself, for I suspect he is a little out of humor with his +own feelings; and above all, I must crave his pardon for having made him the +subject of a kind of experiment. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, gentlemen, there is something strange and peculiar in the chamber to +which our friend was shown last night. There is a picture which possesses a +singular and mysterious influence; and with which there is connected a very +curious story. It is a picture to which I attach a value from a variety of +circumstances; and though I have often been tempted to destroy it from the odd +and uncomfortable sensations it produces in every one that beholds it; yet I +have never been able to prevail upon myself to make the sacrifice. It is a +picture I never like to look upon myself; and which is held in awe by all my +servants. I have, therefore, banished it to a room but rarely used; and should +have had it covered last night, had not the nature of our conversation, and the +whimsical talk about a haunted chamber tempted me to let it remain, by way of +experiment, whether a stranger, totally unacquainted with its story, would be +affected by it.” +</p> + +<p> +The words of the Baronet had turned every thought into a different channel: all +were anxious to hear the story of the mysterious picture; and for myself, so +strongly were my feelings interested, that I forgot to feel piqued at the +experiment which my host had made upon my nerves, and joined eagerly in the +general entreaty. +</p> + +<p> +As the morning was stormy, and precluded all egress, my host was glad of any +means of entertaining his company; so drawing his arm-chair beside the fire, he +began— +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap07"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER</h3> + +<p> +Many years since, when I was a young man, and had just left Oxford, I was sent +on the grand tour to finish my education. I believe my parents had tried in +vain to inoculate me with wisdom; so they sent me to mingle with society, in +hopes I might take it the natural way. Such, at least, appears to be the reason +for which nine-tenths of our youngsters are sent abroad. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of my tour I remained some time at Venice. The romantic character +of the place delighted me; I was very much amused by the air of adventure and +intrigue that prevailed in this region of masks and gondolas; and I was +exceedingly smitten by a pair of languishing black eyes, that played upon my +heart from under an Italian mantle. So I persuaded myself that I was lingering +at Venice to study men and manners. At least I persuaded my friends so, and +that answered all my purpose. Indeed, I was a little prone to be struck by +peculiarities in character and conduct, and my imagination was so full of +romantic associations with Italy, that I was always on the lookout for +adventure. +</p> + +<p> +Every thing chimed in with such a humor in this old mermaid of a city. My suite +of apartments were in a proud, melancholy palace on the grand canal, formerly +the residence of a Magnifico, and sumptuous with the traces of decayed +grandeur. My gondolier was one of the shrewdest of his class, active, merry, +intelligent, and, like his brethren, secret as the grave; that is to say, +secret to all the world except his master. I had not had him a week before he +put me behind all the curtains in Venice. I liked the silence and mystery of +the place, and when I sometimes saw from my window a black gondola gliding +mysteriously along in the dusk of the evening, with nothing visible but its +little glimmering lantern, I would jump into my own zenduletto, and give a +signal for pursuit. But I am running away from my subject with the recollection +of youthful follies, said the Baronet, checking himself; “let me come to the +point.” +</p> + +<p> +Among my familiar resorts was a Cassino under the Arcades on one side of the +grand square of St. Mark. Here I used frequently to lounge and take my ice on +those warm summer nights when in Italy every body lives abroad until morning. I +was seated here one evening, when a group of Italians took seat at a table on +the opposite side of the saloon. Their conversation was gay and animated, and +carried on with Italian vivacity and gesticulation. +</p> + +<p> +I remarked among them one young man, however, who appeared to take no share, +and find no enjoyment in the conversation; though he seemed to force himself to +attend to it. He was tall and slender, and of extremely prepossessing +appearance. His features were fine, though emaciated. He had a profusion of +black glossy hair that curled lightly about his head, and contrasted with the +extreme paleness of his countenance. His brow was haggard; deep furrows seemed +to have been ploughed into his visage by care, not by age, for he was evidently +in the prime of youth. His eye was full of expression and fire, but wild and +unsteady. He seemed to be tormented by some strange fancy or apprehension. In +spite of every effort to fix his attention on the conversation of his +companions, I noticed that every now and then he would turn his head slowly +round, give a glance over his shoulder, and then withdraw it with a sudden +jerk, as if something painful had met his eye. This was repeated at intervals +of about a minute, and he appeared hardly to have got over one shock, before I +saw him slowly preparing to encounter another. +</p> + +<p> +After sitting some time in the Cassino, the party paid for the refreshments +they had taken, and departed. The young man was the last to leave the saloon, +and I remarked him glancing behind him in the same way, just as he passed out +at the door. I could not resist the impulse to rise and follow him; for I was +at an age when a romantic feeling of curiosity is easily awakened. The party +walked slowly down the Arcades, talking and laughing as they went. They crossed +the Piazzetta, but paused in the middle of it to enjoy the scene. It was one of +those moonlight nights so brilliant and clear in the pure atmosphere of Italy. +The moon-beams streamed on the tall tower of St. Mark, and lighted up the +magnificent front and swelling domes of the Cathedral. The party expressed +their delight in animated terms. I kept my eye upon the young man. He alone +seemed abstracted and self-occupied. I noticed the same singular, and, as it +were, furtive glance over the shoulder that had attracted my attention in the +Cassino. The party moved on, and I followed; they passed along the walks called +the Broglio; turned the corner of the Ducal palace, and getting into a gondola, +glided swiftly away. +</p> + +<p> +The countenance and conduct of this young man dwelt upon my mind. There was +something in his appearance that interested me exceedingly. I met him a day or +two after in a gallery of paintings. He was evidently a connoisseur, for he +always singled out the most masterly productions, and the few remarks drawn +from him by his companions showed an intimate acquaintance with the art. His +own taste, however, ran on singular extremes. On Salvator Rosa in his most +savage and solitary scenes; on Raphael, Titian, and Corregio in their softest +delineations of female beauty. On these he would occasionally gaze with +transient enthusiasm. But this seemed only a momentary forgetfulness. Still +would recur that cautious glance behind, and always quickly withdrawn, as +though something terrible had met his view. +</p> + +<p> +I encountered him frequently afterwards. At the theatre, at balls, at concerts; +at the promenades in the gardens of San Georgio; at the grotesque exhibitions +in the square of St. Mark; among the throng of merchants on the Exchange by the +Rialto. He seemed, in fact, to seek crowds; to hunt after bustle and amusement; +yet never to take any interest in either the business or gayety of the scene. +Ever an air of painful thought, of wretched abstraction; and ever that strange +and recurring movement, of glancing fearfully over the shoulder. I did not know +at first but this might be caused by apprehension of arrest; or perhaps from +dread of assassination. But, if so, why should he go thus continually abroad; +why expose himself at all times and in all places? +</p> + +<p> +I became anxious to know this stranger. I was drawn to him by that Romantic +sympathy that sometimes draws young men towards each other. His melancholy +threw a charm about him in my eyes, which was no doubt heightened by the +touching expression of his countenance, and the manly graces of his person; for +manly beauty has its effect even upon man. I had an Englishman’s habitual +diffidence and awkwardness of address to contend with; but I subdued it, and +from frequently meeting him in the Cassino, gradually edged myself into his +acquaintance. I had no reserve on his part to contend with. He seemed on the +contrary to court society; and in fact to seek anything rather than be alone. +</p> + +<p> +When he found I really took an interest in him he threw himself entirely upon +my friendship. He clung to me like a drowning man. He would walk with me for +hours up and down the place of St. Mark—or he would sit until night was far +advanced in my apartment; he took rooms under the same roof with me; and his +constant request was, that I would permit him, when it did not incommode me, to +sit by me in my saloon. It was not that he seemed to take a particular delight +in my conversation; but rather that he craved the vicinity of a human being; +and above all, of a being that sympathized with him. “I have often heard,” said +he, “of the sincerity of Englishmen—thank God I have one at length for a +friend!” +</p> + +<p> +Yet he never seemed disposed to avail himself of my sympathy other than by mere +companionship. He never sought to unbosom himself to me; there appeared to be a +settled corroding anguish in his bosom that neither could be soothed “by +silence nor by speaking.” A devouring melancholy preyed upon his heart, and +seemed to be drying up the very blood in his veins. It was not a soft +melancholy—the disease of the affections; but a parching, withering agony. I +could see at times that his mouth was dry and feverish; he almost panted rather +than breathed; his eyes were bloodshot; his cheeks pale and livid; with now and +then faint streaks athwart them—baleful gleams of the fire that was consuming +his heart. As my arm was within his, I felt him press it at times with a +convulsive motion to his side; his hands would clinch themselves involuntarily, +and a kind of shudder would run through his frame. I reasoned with him about +his melancholy, and sought to draw from him the cause—he shrunk from all +confiding. “Do not seek to know it,” said he, “you could not relieve it if you +knew it; you would not even seek to relieve it—on the contrary, I should lose +your sympathy; and that,” said he, pressing my hand convulsively, “that I feel +has become too dear to me to risk.” +</p> + +<p> +I endeavored to awaken hope within him. He was young; life had a thousand +pleasures in store for him; there is a healthy reaction in the youthful heart; +it medicines its own wounds— +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come,” said I, “there is no grief so great that youth cannot outgrow +it.”—“No! no!” said he, clinching his teeth, and striking repeatedly, with the +energy of despair, upon his bosom—“It is here—here—deep-rooted; draining my +heart’s blood. It grows and grows, while my heart withers and withers! I have a +dreadful monitor that gives me no repose—that follows me step by step; and will +follow me step by step, until it pushes me into my grave!” +</p> + +<p> +As he said this he gave involuntarily one of those fearful glances over his +shoulder, and shrunk back with more than usual horror. I could not resist the +temptation to allude to this movement, which I supposed to be some mere malady +of the nerves. The moment I mentioned it his face became crimsoned and +convulsed—he grasped me by both hands: “For God’s sake,” exclaimed he, with a +piercing agony of voice—“never allude to that again; let us avoid this subject, +my friend; you cannot relieve me, indeed you cannot relieve me; but you may add +to the torments I suffer;—at some future day you shall know all.” +</p> + +<p> +I never resumed the subject; for however much my curiosity might be aroused, I +felt too true compassion for his sufferings to increase them by my intrusion. I +sought various ways to divert his mind, and to arouse him from the constant +meditations in which he was plunged. He saw my efforts, and seconded them as +far as in his power, for there was nothing moody or wayward in his nature; on +the contrary, there was something frank, generous, unassuming, in his whole +deportment. All the sentiments that he uttered were noble and lofty. He claimed +no indulgence; he asked no toleration. He seemed content to carry his load of +misery in silence, and only sought to carry it by my side. There was a mute +beseeching manner about him, as if he craved companionship as a charitable +boon; and a tacit thankfulness in his looks, as if he felt grateful to me for +not repulsing him. +</p> + +<p> +I felt this melancholy to be infectious. It stole over my spirits; Interfered +with all my gay pursuits, and gradually saddened my life; yet I could not +prevail upon myself to shake off a being who seemed to hang upon me for +support. In truth, the generous traits of character that beamed through all +this gloom had penetrated to my heart. His bounty was lavish and open-handed. +His charity melting and spontaneous. Not confined to mere donations, which +often humiliate as much as they relieve. The tone of his voice, the beam of his +eye, enhanced every gift, and surprised the poor suppliant with that rarest and +sweetest of charities, the charity not merely of the hand, but of the heart. +Indeed, his liberality seemed to have something in it of self-abasement and +expiation. He humbled himself, in a manner, before the mendicant. “What right +have I to ease and affluence,” would he murmur to himself, “when innocence +wanders in misery and rags?” +</p> + +<p> +The Carnival time arrived. I had hoped that the gay scenes which then Presented +themselves might have some cheering effect. I mingled with him in the motley +throng that crowded the place of St. Mark. We frequented operas, masquerades, +balls. All in vain. The evil kept growing on him; he became more and more +haggard and agitated. Often, after we had returned from one of these scenes of +revelry, I have entered his room, and found him lying on his face on the sofa: +his hands clinched in his fine hair, and his whole countenance bearing traces +of the convulsions of his mind. +</p> + +<p> +The Carnival passed away; the season of Lent succeeded; Passion week arrived. +We attended one evening a solemn service in one of the churches; in the course +of which a grand piece of vocal and instrumental music was performed relating +to the death of our Saviour. +</p> + +<p> +I had remarked that he was always powerfully affected by music; on this +occasion he was so in an extraordinary degree. As the peeling notes swelled +through the lofty aisles, he seemed to kindle up with fervor. His eyes rolled +upwards, until nothing but the whites were visible; his hands were clasped +together, until the fingers were deeply imprinted in the flesh. When the music +expressed the dying agony, his face gradually sunk upon his knees; and at the +touching words resounding through the church, “<i>Jesu mori</i>,” sobs burst +from him uncontrolled. I had never seen him weep before; his had always been +agony rather than sorrow. I augured well from the circumstance. I let him weep +on uninterrupted. When the service was ended we left the church. He hung on my +arm as we walked homewards, with something of a softer and more subdued manner; +instead of that nervous agitation I had been accustomed to witness. He alluded +to the service we had heard. “Music,” said he, “is indeed the voice of heaven; +never before have I felt more impressed by the story of the atonement of our +Saviour. Yes, my friend,” said he, clasping his hands with a kind of transport, +“I know that my Redeemer liveth.” +</p> + +<p> +We parted for the night. His room was not far from mine, and I heard him for +some time busied in it. I fell asleep, but was awakened before daylight. The +young man stood by my bed-side, dressed for travelling. He held a sealed packet +and a large parcel in his hand, which he laid on the table. “Farewell, my +friend,” said he, “I am about to set forth on a long journey; but, before I go, +I leave with you these remembrances. In this packet you will find the +particulars of my story. When you read them, I shall be far away; do not +remember me with aversion. You have been, indeed, a friend to me. You have +poured oil into a broken heart,—but you could not heal it.—Farewell—let me kiss +your hand—I am unworthy to embrace you.” He sunk on his knees, seized my hand +in despite of my efforts to the contrary, and covered it with kisses. I was so +surprised by all this scene that I had not been able to say a word. +</p> + +<p> +But we shall meet again, said I, hastily, as I saw him hurrying towards the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“Never—never in this world!” said he, solemnly. He sprang once more to my +bed-side—seized my hand, pressed it to his heart and to his lips, and rushed +out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Here the Baronet paused. He seemed lost in thought, and sat looking upon the +floor and drumming with his fingers on the arm of his chair. +</p> + +<p> +“And did this mysterious personage return?” said the inquisitive gentleman. +“Never!” replied the Baronet, with a pensive shake of the head: “I never saw +him again.” “And pray what has all this to do with the picture?” inquired the +old gentleman with the nose—“True!” said the questioner—“Is it the portrait of +this crack-brained Italian?” “No!” said the Baronet drily, not half liking the +appellation given to his hero; “but this picture was inclosed in the parcel he +left with me. The sealed packet contained its explanation. There was a request +on the outside that I would not open it until six months had elapsed. I kept my +promise, in spite of my curiosity. I have a translation of it by me, and had +meant to read it, by way of accounting for the mystery of the chamber, but I +fear I have already detained the company too long.” +</p> + +<p> +Here there was a general wish expressed to have the manuscript read; +particularly on the part of the inquisitive gentleman. So the worthy Baronet +drew out a fairly written manuscript, and wiping his spectacles, read aloud the +following story: +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap08"></a>THE STORY OF THE YOUNG ITALIAN</h3> + +<p> +I was born at Naples. My parents, though of noble rank, were limited in +fortune, or rather my father was ostentatious beyond his means, and expended so +much in his palace, his equipage, and his retinue, that he was continually +straitened in his pecuniary circumstances. I was a younger son, and looked upon +with indifference by my father, who, from a principle of family pride, wished +to leave all his property to my elder brother. +</p> + +<p> +I showed, when quite a child, an extreme sensibility. Every thing affected me +violently. While yet an infant in my mother’s arms, and before I had learnt to +talk, I could be wrought upon to a wonderful degree of anguish or delight by +the power of music. As I grew older my feelings remained equally acute, and I +was easily transported into paroxysms of pleasure or rage. It was the amusement +of my relatives and of the domestics to play upon this irritable temperament. I +was moved to tears, tickled to laughter, provoked to fury, for the +entertainment of company, who were amused by such a tempest of mighty passion +in a pigmy frame. They little thought, or perhaps little heeded the dangerous +sensibilities they were fostering. I thus became a little creature of passion, +before reason was developed. In a short time I grew too old to be a plaything, +and then I became a torment. The tricks and passions I had been teased into +became irksome, and I was disliked by my teachers for the very lessons they had +taught me. +</p> + +<p> +My mother died; and my power as a spoiled child was at an end. There was no +longer any necessity to humor or tolerate me, for there was nothing to be +gained by it, as I was no favorite of my father. I therefore experienced the +fate of a spoiled child in such situation, and was neglected or noticed only to +be crossed and contradicted. Such was the early treatment of a heart, which, if +I am judge of it at all, was naturally disposed to the extremes of tenderness +and affection. +</p> + +<p> +My father, as I have already said, never liked me—in fact, he never Understood +me; he looked upon me as wilful and wayward, as deficient in natural +affection:—it was the stateliness of his own manner; the loftiness and grandeur +of his own look that had repelled me from his arms. I always pictured him to +myself as I had seen him clad in his senatorial robes, rustling with pomp and +pride. The magnificence of his person had daunted my strong imagination. I +could never approach him with the confiding affection of a child. +</p> + +<p> +My father’s feelings were wrapped up in my elder brother. He was to be the +inheritor of the family title and the family dignity, and every thing was +sacrificed to him—I, as well as every thing else. It was determined to devote +me to the church, that so my humors and myself might be removed out of the way, +either of tasking my father’s time and trouble, or interfering with the +interests of my brother. At an early age, therefore, before my mind had dawned +upon the world and its delights, or known any thing of it beyond the precincts +of my father’s palace, I was sent to a convent, the superior of which was my +uncle, and was confided entirely to his care. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle was a man totally estranged from the world; he had never relished, for +he had never tasted its pleasures; and he deemed rigid self-denial as the great +basis of Christian virtue. He considered every one’s temperament like his own; +or at least he made them conform to it. His character and habits had an +influence over the fraternity of which he was superior. A more gloomy, +saturnine set of beings were never assembled together. The convent, too, was +calculated to awaken sad and solitary thoughts. It was situated in a gloomy +gorge of those mountains away south of Vesuvius. All distant views were shut +out by sterile volcanic heights. A mountain stream raved beneath its walls, and +eagles screamed about its turrets. +</p> + +<p> +I had been sent to this place at so tender an age as soon to lose all Distinct +recollection of the scenes I had left behind. As my mind expanded, therefore, +it formed its idea of the world from the convent and its vicinity, and a dreary +world it appeared to me. An early tinge of melancholy was thus infused into my +character; and the dismal stories of the monks, about devils and evil spirits, +with which they affrighted my young imagination, gave me a tendency to +superstition, which I could never effectually shake off. They took the same +delight to work upon my ardent feelings that had been so mischievously +exercised by my father’s household. +</p> + +<p> +I can recollect the horrors with which they fed my heated fancy during an +eruption of Vesuvius. We were distant from that volcano, with mountains between +us; but its convulsive throes shook the solid foundations of nature. +Earthquakes threatened to topple down our convent towers. A lurid, baleful +light hung in the heavens at night, and showers of ashes, borne by the wind, +fell in our narrow valley. The monks talked of the earth being honey-combed +beneath us; of Streams of molten lava raging through its veins; of caverns of +sulphurous flames roaring in the centre, the abodes of demons and the damned; +of fiery gulfs ready to yawn beneath our feet. All these tales were told to the +doleful accompaniment of the mountain’s thunders, whose low bellowing made the +walls of our convent vibrate. +</p> + +<p> +One of the monks had been a painter, but had retired from the world, and +embraced this dismal life in expiation of some crime. He was a melancholy man, +who pursued his art in the solitude of his cell, but made it a source of +penance to him. His employment was to portray, either on canvas or in waxen +models, the human face and human form, in the agonies of death and in all the +stages of dissolution and decay. The fearful mysteries of the charnel house +were unfolded in his labors—the loathsome banquet of the beetle and the worm.—I +turn with shuddering even from the recollection of his works. Yet, at that +time, my strong, but ill-directed imagination seized with ardor upon his +instructions in his art. Any thing was a variety from the dry studies and +monotonous duties of the cloister. In a little while I became expert with my +pencil, and my gloomy productions were thought worthy of decorating some of the +altars of the chapel. +</p> + +<p> +In this dismal way was a creature of feeling and fancy brought up. Every thing +genial and amiable in my nature was repressed and nothing brought out but what +was unprofitable and ungracious. I was ardent in my temperament; quick, +mercurial, impetuous, formed to be a creature all love and adoration; but a +leaden hand was laid on all my finer qualities. I was taught nothing but fear +and hatred. I hated my uncle, I hated the monks, I hated the convent in which I +was immured. I hated the world, and I almost hated myself, for being, as I +supposed, so hating and hateful an animal. +</p> + +<p> +When I had nearly attained the age of sixteen, I was suffered, on one occasion, +to accompany one of the brethren on a mission to a distant part of the country. +We soon left behind us the gloomy valley in which I had been pent up for so +many years, and after a short journey among the mountains, emerged upon the +voluptuous landscape that spreads itself about the Bay of Naples. Heavens! How +transported was I, when I stretched my gaze over a vast reach of delicious +sunny country, gay with groves and vineyards; with Vesuvius rearing its forked +summit to my right; the blue Mediterranean to my left, with its enchanting +coast, studded with shining towns and sumptuous villas; and Naples, my native +Naples, gleaming far, far in the distance. +</p> + +<p> +Good God! was this the lovely world from which I had been excluded! I Had +reached that age when the sensibilities are in all their bloom and freshness. +Mine had been checked and chilled. They now burst forth with the suddenness of +a retarded spring. My heart, hitherto unnaturally shrunk up, expanded into a +riot of vague, but delicious emotions. The beauty of nature intoxicated, +bewildered me. The song of the peasants; their cheerful looks; their happy +avocations; the picturesque gayety of their dresses; their rustic music; their +dances; all broke upon me like witchcraft. My soul responded to the music; my +heart danced in my bosom. All the men appeared amiable, all the women lovely. +</p> + +<p> +I returned to the convent, that is to say, my body returned but my heart and +soul never entered there again. I could not forget this glimpse of a beautiful +and a happy world; a world so suited to my natural character. I had felt so +happy while in it; so different a being from what I felt myself while in the +convent—that tomb of the living. I contrasted the countenances of the beings I +had seen, full of fire and freshness and enjoyment, with the pallid, leaden, +lack-lustre visages of the monks; the music of the dance, with the droning +chant of the chapel. I had before found the exercises of the cloister +wearisome; they now became intolerable. The dull round of duties wore away my +spirit; my nerves became irritated by the fretful tinkling of the convent bell; +evermore dinging among the mountain echoes; evermore calling me from my repose +at night, my pencil by day, to attend to some tedious and mechanical ceremony +of devotion. +</p> + +<p> +I was not of a nature to meditate long, without putting my thoughts into +action. My spirit had been suddenly aroused, and was now all awake within me. I +watched my opportunity, fled from the convent, and made my way on foot to +Naples. As I entered its gay and crowded streets, and beheld the variety and +stir of life around me, the luxury of palaces, the splendor of equipages, and +the pantomimic animation of the motley populace, I seemed as if awakened to a +world of enchantment, and solemnly vowed that nothing should force me back to +the monotony of the cloister. +</p> + +<p> +I had to inquire my way to my father’s palace, for I had been so young on +leaving it, that I knew not its situation. I found some difficulty in getting +admitted to my father’s presence, for the domestics scarcely knew that there +was such a being as myself in existence, and my monastic dress did not operate +in my favor. Even my father entertained no recollection of my person. I told +him my name, threw myself at his feet, implored his forgiveness, and entreated +that I might not be sent back to the convent. +</p> + +<p> +He received me with the condescension of a patron rather than the kindness of a +parent. He listened patiently, but coldly, to my tale of monastic grievances +and disgusts, and promised to think what else could be done for me. This +coldness blighted and drove back all the frank affection of my nature that was +ready to spring forth at the least warmth of parental kindness. All my early +feelings towards my father revived; I again looked up to him as the stately +magnificent being that had daunted my childish imagination, and felt as if I +had no pretensions to his sympathies. My brother engrossed all his care and +love; he inherited his nature, and carried himself towards me with a protecting +rather than a fraternal air. It wounded my pride, which was great. I could +brook condescension from my father, for I looked up to him with awe as a +superior being, but I could not brook patronage from a brother, who, I felt, +was intellectually my inferior. The servants perceived that I was an unwelcome +intruder in the paternal mansion, and, menial-like, they treated me with +neglect. Thus baffled at every point; my affections outraged wherever they +would attach themselves, I became sullen, silent, and despondent. My feelings +driven back upon myself, entered and preyed upon my own heart. I remained for +some days an unwelcome guest rather than a restored son in my father’s house. I +was doomed never to be properly known there. I was made, by wrong treatment, +strange even to myself; and they judged of me from my strangeness. +</p> + +<p> +I was startled one day at the sight of one of the monks of my convent, gliding +out of my father’s room. He saw me, but pretended not to notice me; and this +very hypocrisy made me suspect something. I had become sore and susceptible in +my feelings; every thing inflicted a wound on them. In this state of mind I was +treated with marked disrespect by a pampered minion, the favorite servant of my +father. All the pride and passion of my nature rose in an instant, and I struck +him to the earth. +</p> + +<p> +My father was passing by; he stopped not to inquire the reason, nor indeed +could he read the long course of mental sufferings which were the real cause. +He rebuked me with anger and scorn; he summoned all the haughtiness of his +nature, and grandeur of his look, to give weight to the contumely with which he +treated me. I felt I had not deserved it—I felt that I was not appreciated—I +felt that I had that within me which merited better treatment; my heart swelled +against a father’s injustice. I broke through my habitual awe of him. I replied +to him with impatience; my hot spirit flushed in my cheek and kindled in my +eye, but my sensitive heart swelled as quickly, and before I had half vented my +passion I felt it suffocated and quenched in my tears. My father was astonished +and incensed at this turning of the worm, and ordered me to my chamber. I +retired in silence, choking with contending emotions. +</p> + +<p> +I had not been long there when I overheard voices in an adjoining apartment. It +was a consultation between my father and the monk, about the means of getting +me back quietly to the convent. My resolution was taken. I had no longer a home +nor a father. That very night I left the paternal roof. I got on board a vessel +about making sail from the harbor, and abandoned myself to the wide world. No +matter to what port she steered; any part of so beautiful a world was better +than my convent. No matter where I was cast by fortune; any place would be more +a home to me than the home I had left behind. The vessel was bound to Genoa. We +arrived there after a voyage of a few days. +</p> + +<p> +As I entered the harbor, between the moles which embrace it, and beheld the +amphitheatre of palaces and churches and splendid gardens, rising one above +another, I felt at once its title to the appellation of Genoa the Superb. I +landed on the mole an utter stranger, without knowing what to do, or whither to +direct my steps. No matter; I was released from the thraldom of the convent and +the humiliations of home! When I traversed the Strada Balbi and the Strada +Nuova, those streets of palaces, and gazed at the wonders of architecture +around me; when I wandered at close of day, amid a gay throng of the brilliant +and the beautiful, through the green alleys of the Aqua Verdi, or among the +colonnades and terraces of the magnificent Doria Gardens, I thought it +impossible to be ever otherwise than happy in Genoa. +</p> + +<p> +A few days sufficed to show me my mistake. My scanty purse was exhausted, and +for the first time in my life I experienced the sordid distress of penury. I +had never known the want of money, and had never adverted to the possibility of +such an evil. I was ignorant of the world and all its ways; and when first the +idea of destitution came over my mind its effect was withering. I was wandering +pensively through the streets which no longer delighted my eyes, when chance +led my stops into the magnificent church of the Annunciata. +</p> + +<p> +A celebrated painter of the day was at that moment superintending the placing +of one of his pictures over an altar. The proficiency which I had acquired in +his art during my residence in the convent had made me an enthusiastic amateur. +I was struck, at the first glance, with the painting. It was the face of a +Madonna. So innocent, so lovely, such a divine expression of maternal +tenderness! I lost for the moment all recollection of myself in the enthusiasm +of my art. I clasped my hands together, and uttered an ejaculation of delight. +The painter perceived my emotion. He was flattered and gratified by it. My air +and manner pleased him, and he accosted me. I felt too much the want of +friendship to repel the advances of a stranger, and there was something in this +one so benevolent and winning that in a moment he gained my confidence. +</p> + +<p> +I told him my story and my situation, concealing only my name and rank. He +appeared strongly interested by my recital; invited me to his house, and from +that time I became his favorite pupil. He thought he perceived in me +extraordinary talents for the art, and his encomiums awakened all my ardor. +What a blissful period of my existence was it that I passed beneath his roof. +Another being seemed created within me, or rather, all that was amiable and +excellent was drawn out. I was as recluse as ever I had been at the convent, +but how different was my seclusion. My time was spent in storing my mind with +lofty and poetical ideas; in meditating on all that was striking and noble in +history or fiction; in studying and tracing all that was sublime and beautiful +in nature. I was always a visionary, imaginative being, but now my reveries and +imaginings all elevated me to rapture. +</p> + +<p> +I looked up to my master as to a benevolent genius that had opened to me a +region of enchantment. I became devotedly attached to him. He was not a native +of Genoa, but had been drawn thither by the solicitation of several of the +nobility, and had resided there but a few years, for the completion of certain +works he had undertaken. His health was delicate, and he had to confide much of +the filling up of his designs to the pencils of his scholars. He considered me +as particularly happy in delineating the human countenance; in seizing upon +characteristic, though fleeting expressions and fixing them powerfully upon my +canvas. I was employed continually, therefore, in sketching faces, and often +when some particular grace or beauty or expression was wanted in a countenance, +it was entrusted to my pencil. My benefactor was fond of bringing me forward; +and partly, perhaps, through my actual skill, and partly by his partial +praises, I began to be noted for the expression of my countenances. +</p> + +<p> +Among the various works which he had undertaken, was an historical piece for +one of the palaces of Genoa, in which were to be introduced the likenesses of +several of the family. Among these was one entrusted to my pencil. It was that +of a young girl, who as yet was in a convent for her education. She came out +for the purpose of sitting for the picture. I first saw her in an apartment of +one of the sumptuous palaces of Genoa. She stood before a casement that looked +out upon the bay, a stream of vernal sunshine fell upon her, and shed a kind of +glory round her as it lit up the rich crimson chamber. She was but sixteen +years of age—and oh, how lovely! The scene broke upon me like a mere vision of +spring and youth and beauty. I could have fallen down and worshipped her. She +was like one of those fictions of poets and painters, when they would express +the <i>beau ideal</i> that haunts their minds with shapes of indescribable +perfection. +</p> + +<p> +I was permitted to sketch her countenance in various positions, and I Fondly +protracted the study that was undoing me. The more I gazed on her the more I +became enamoured; there was something almost painful in my intense admiration. +I was but nineteen years of age; shy, diffident, and inexperienced. I was +treated with attention and encouragement, for my youth and my enthusiasm in my +art had won favor for me; and I am inclined to think that there was something +in my air and manner that inspired interest and respect. Still the kindness +with which I was treated could not dispel the embarrassment into which my own +imagination threw me when in presence of this lovely being. It elevated her +into something almost more than mortal. She seemed too exquisite for earthly +use; too delicate and exalted for human attainment. As I sat tracing her charms +on my canvas, with my eyes occasionally riveted on her features, I drank in +delicious poison that made me giddy. My heart alternately gushed with +tenderness, and ached with despair. Now I became more than ever sensible of the +violent fires that had lain dormant at the bottom of my soul. You who are born +in a more temperate climate and under a cooler sky, have little idea of the +violence of passion in our southern bosoms. +</p> + +<p> +A few days finished my task; Bianca returned to her convent, but her image +remained indelibly impressed upon my heart. It dwelt on my imagination; it +became my pervading idea of beauty. It had an effect even upon my pencil; I +became noted for my felicity in depicting female loveliness; it was but because +I multiplied the image of Bianca. I soothed, and yet fed my fancy, by +introducing her in all the productions of my master. I have stood with delight +in one of the chapels of the Annunciata, and heard the crowd extol the seraphic +beauty of a saint which I had painted; I have seen them bow down in adoration +before the painting: they were bowing before the loveliness of Bianca. +</p> + +<p> +I existed in this kind of dream, I might almost say delirium, for upwards of a +year. Such is the tenacity of my imagination that the image which was formed in +it continued in all its power and freshness. Indeed, I was a solitary, +meditative being, much given to reverie, and apt to foster ideas which had once +taken strong possession of me. I was roused from this fond, melancholy, +delicious dream by the death of my worthy benefactor. I cannot describe the +pangs his death occasioned me. It left me alone and almost broken-hearted. He +bequeathed to me his little property; which, from the liberality of his +disposition and his expensive style of living, was indeed but small; and he +most particularly recommended me, in dying, to the protection of a nobleman who +had been his patron. +</p> + +<p> +The latter was a man who passed for munificent. He was a lover and an +encourager of the arts, and evidently wished to be thought so. He fancied he +saw in me indications of future excellence; my pencil had already attracted +attention; he took me at once under his protection; seeing that I was +overwhelmed with grief, and incapable of exerting myself in the mansion of my +late benefactor, he invited me to sojourn for a time in a villa which he +possessed on the border of the sea, in the picturesque neighborhood of Sestri +de Ponenti. +</p> + +<p> +I found at the villa the Count’s only son, Filippo: he was nearly of my age, +prepossessing in his appearance, and fascinating in his manners; he attached +himself to me, and seemed to court my good opinion. I thought there was +something of profession in his kindness, and of caprice in his disposition; but +I had nothing else near me to attach myself to, and my heart felt the need of +something to repose itself upon. His education had been neglected; he looked +upon me as his superior in mental powers and acquirements, and tacitly +acknowledged my superiority. I felt that I was his equal in birth, and that +gave an independence to my manner which had its effect. The caprice and tyranny +I saw sometimes exercised on others, over whom he had power, were never +manifested towards me. We became intimate friends, and frequent companions. +Still I loved to be alone, and to indulge in the reveries of my own +imagination, among the beautiful scenery by which I was surrounded. +</p> + +<p> +The villa stood in the midst of ornamented grounds, finely decorated With +statues and fountains, and laid out into groves and alleys and shady bowers. It +commanded a wide view of the Mediterranean, and the picturesque Ligurian coast. +Every thing was assembled here that could gratify the taste or agreeably occupy +the mind. Soothed by the tranquillity of this elegant retreat, the turbulence +of my feelings gradually subsided, and, blending with the romantic spell that +still reigned over my imagination, produced a soft voluptuous melancholy. +</p> + +<p> +I had not been long under the roof of the Count, when our solitude was +enlivened by another inhabitant. It was a daughter of a relation of the Count, +who had lately died in reduced circumstances, bequeathing this only child to +his protection. I had heard much of her beauty from Filippo, but my fancy had +become so engrossed by one idea of beauty as not to admit of any other. We were +in the central saloon of the villa when she arrived. She was still in mourning, +and approached, leaning on the Count’s arm. As they ascended the marble +portico, I was struck by the elegance of her figure and movement, by the grace +with which the <i>mezzaro</i>, the bewitching veil of Genoa, was folded about +her slender form. +</p> + +<p> +They entered. Heavens! what was my surprise when I beheld Bianca before me. It +was herself; pale with grief; but still more matured in loveliness than when I +had last beheld her. The time that had elapsed had developed the graces of her +person; and the sorrow she had undergone had diffused over her countenance an +irresistible tenderness. +</p> + +<p> +She blushed and trembled at seeing me, and tears rushed into her eyes, for she +remembered in whose company she had been accustomed to behold me. For my part, +I cannot express what were my emotions. By degrees I overcame the extreme +shyness that had formerly paralyzed me in her presence. We were drawn together +by sympathy of situation. We had each lost our best friend in the world; we +were each, in some measure thrown upon the kindness of others. When I came to +know her intellectually, all my ideal picturings of her were confirmed. Her +newness to the world, her delightful susceptibility to every thing beautiful +and agreeable in nature, reminded me of my own emotions when first I escaped +from the convent. Her rectitude of thinking delighted my judgment; the +sweetness of her nature wrapped itself around my heart; and then her young and +tender and budding loveliness, sent a delicious madness to my brain. +</p> + +<p> +I gazed upon her with a kind of idolatry, as something more than mortal; and I +felt humiliated at the idea of my comparative unworthiness. Yet she was mortal; +and one of mortality’s most susceptible and loving compounds; for she loved me! +</p> + +<p> +How first I discovered the transporting truth I cannot recollect; I believe it +stole upon me by degrees, as a wonder past hope or belief. We were both at such +a tender and loving age; in constant intercourse with each other; mingling in +the same elegant pursuits; for music, poetry, and painting were our mutual +delights, and we were almost separated from society, among lovely and romantic +scenery! Is it strange that two young hearts thus brought together should +readily twine round each other? +</p> + +<p> +Oh, gods! what a dream—a transient dream! of unalloyed delight then passed over +my soul! Then it was that the world around me was indeed a paradise, for I had +a woman—lovely, delicious woman, to share it with me. How often have I rambled +over the picturesque shores of Sestri, or climbed its wild mountains, with the +coast gemmed with villas, and the blue sea far below me, and the slender Pharo +of Genoa on its romantic promontory in the distance; and as I sustained the +faltering steps of Bianca, have thought there could no unhappiness enter into +so beautiful a world. Why, oh, why is this budding season of life and love so +transient—why is this rosy cloud of love that sheds such a glow over the +morning of our days so prone to brew up into the whirlwind and the storm! +</p> + +<p> +I was the first to awaken from this blissful delirium of the affections. I had +gained Bianca’s heart: what was I to do with it? I had no wealth nor prospects +to entitle me to her hand. Was I to take advantage of her ignorance of the +world, of her confiding affection, and draw her down to my own poverty? Was +this requiting the hospitality of the Count?—was this requiting the love of +Bianca? +</p> + +<p> +Now first I began to feel that even successful love may have its bitterness. A +corroding care gathered about my heart. I moved about the palace like a guilty +being. I felt as if I had abused its hospitality—as if I were a thief within +its walls. I could no longer look with unembarrassed mien in the countenance of +the Count. I accused myself of perfidy to him, and I thought he read it in my +looks, and began to distrust and despise me. His manner had always been +ostentatious and condescending, it now appeared cold and haughty. Filippo, too, +became reserved and distant; or at least I suspected him to be so. Heavens!—was +this mere coinage of my brain: was I to become suspicious of all the world?—a +poor surmising wretch; watching looks and gestures; and torturing myself with +misconstructions. Or if true—was I to remain beneath a roof where I was merely +tolerated, and linger there on sufferance? “This is not to be endured!” +exclaimed I; “I will tear myself from this state of self-abasement; I will +break through this fascination and fly—Fly?—whither?—from the world?—for where +is the world when I leave Bianca behind me?” +</p> + +<p> +My spirit was naturally proud, and swelled within me at the idea of being +looked upon with contumely. Many times I was on the point of declaring my +family and rank, and asserting my equality, in the presence of Bianca, when I +thought her relatives assumed an air of superiority. But the feeling was +transient. I considered myself discarded and contemned by my family; and had +solemnly vowed never to own relationship to them, until they themselves should +claim it. +</p> + +<p> +The struggle of my mind preyed upon my happiness and my health. It seemed as if +the uncertainty of being loved would be less intolerable than thus to be +assured of it, and yet not dare to enjoy the conviction. I was no longer the +enraptured admirer of Bianca; I no longer hung in ecstasy on the tones of her +voice, nor drank in with insatiate gaze the beauty of her countenance. Her very +smiles ceased to delight me, for I felt culpable in having won them. +</p> + +<p> +She could not but be sensible of the change in me, and inquired the cause with +her usual frankness and simplicity. I could not evade the inquiry, for my heart +was full to aching. I told her all the conflict of my soul; my devouring +passion, my bitter self-upbraiding. “Yes!” said I, “I am unworthy of you. I am +an offcast from my family—a wanderer—a nameless, homeless wanderer, with +nothing but poverty for my portion, and yet I have dared to love you—have dared +to aspire to your love!” +</p> + +<p> +My agitation moved her to tears; but she saw nothing in my situation so +hopeless as I had depicted it. Brought up in a convent, she knew nothing of the +world, its wants, its cares;—and, indeed, what woman is a worldly casuist in +matters of the heart!—Nay, more—she kindled into a sweet enthusiasm when she +spoke of my fortunes and myself. We had dwelt together on the works of the +famous masters. I had related to her their histories; the high reputation, the +influence, the magnificence to which they had attained;—the companions of +princes, the favorites of kings, the pride and boast of nations. All this she +applied to me. Her love saw nothing in their greatest productions that I was +not able to achieve; and when I saw the lovely creature glow with fervor, and +her whole countenance radiant with the visions of my glory, which seemed +breaking upon her, I was snatched up for the moment into the heaven of her own +imagination. +</p> + +<p> +I am dwelling too long upon this part of my story; yet I cannot help Lingering +over a period of my life, on which, with all its cares and conflicts, I look +back with fondness; for as yet my soul was unstained by a crime. I do not know +what might have been the result of this struggle between pride, delicacy, and +passion, had I not read in a Neapolitan gazette an account of the sudden death +of my brother. It was accompanied by an earnest inquiry for intelligence +concerning me, and a prayer, should this notice meet my eye, that I would +hasten to Naples, to comfort an infirm and afflicted father. +</p> + +<p> +I was naturally of an affectionate disposition; but my brother had never been +as a brother to me; I had long considered myself as disconnected from him, and +his death caused me but little emotion. The thoughts of my father, infirm and +suffering, touched me, however, to the quick; and when I thought of him, that +lofty, magnificent being, now bowed down and desolate, and suing to me for +comfort, all my resentment for past neglect was subdued, and a glow of filial +affection was awakened within me. +</p> + +<p> +The predominant feeling, however, that overpowered all others was transport at +the sudden change in my whole fortunes. A home—a name—a rank—wealth awaited me; +and love painted a still more rapturous prospect in the distance. I hastened to +Bianca, and threw myself at her feet. “Oh, Bianca,” exclaimed I, “at length I +can claim you for my own. I am no longer a nameless adventurer, a neglected, +rejected outcast. Look—read, behold the tidings that restore me to my name and +to myself!” +</p> + +<p> +I will not dwell on the scene that ensued. Bianca rejoiced in the reverse of my +situation, because she saw it lightened my heart of a load of care; for her own +part she had loved me for myself, and had never doubted that my own merits +would command both fame and fortune. +</p> + +<p> +I now felt all my native pride buoyant within me; I no longer walked with my +eyes bent to the dust; hope elevated them to the skies; my soul was lit up with +fresh fires, and beamed from my countenance. +</p> + +<p> +I wished to impart the change in my circumstances to the Count; to let him know +who and what I was, and to make formal proposals for the hand of Bianca; but +the Count was absent on a distant estate. I opened my whole soul to Filippo. +Now first I told him of my passion; of the doubts and fears that had distracted +me, and of the tidings that had suddenly dispelled them. He overwhelmed me with +congratulations and with the warmest expressions of sympathy. I embraced him in +the fullness of my heart. I felt compunctious for having suspected him of +coldness, and asked him forgiveness for having ever doubted his friendship. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing is so warm, and enthusiastic as a sudden expansion of the heart between +young men. Filippo entered into our concerns with the most eager interest. He +was our confidant and counsellor. It was determined that I should hasten at +once to Naples to re-establish myself in my father’s affections and my paternal +home, and the moment the reconciliation was effected and my father’s consent +insured, I should return and demand Bianca of the Count. Filippo engaged to +secure his father’s acquiescence; indeed, he undertook to watch over our +interests, and was the channel through which we were to correspond. +</p> + +<p> +My parting with Bianca was tender—delicious—agonizing. +</p> + +<p> +It was in a little pavilion of the garden which had been one of our favorite +resorts. How often and often did I return to have one more adieu—to have her +look once more on me in speechless emotion—to enjoy once more the rapturous +sight of those tears streaming down her lovely cheeks—to seize once more on +that delicate hand, the frankly accorded pledge of love, and cover it with +tears and kisses! Heavens! There is a delight even in the parting agony of two +lovers worth a thousand tame pleasures of the world. I have her at this moment +before my eyes—at the window of the pavilion, putting aside the vines that +clustered about the casement—her light form beaming forth in virgin white—her +countenance all tears and smiles—sending a thousand and a thousand adieus after +me, as, hesitating, in a delirium of fondness and agitation, I faltered my way +down the avenue. +</p> + +<p> +As the bark bore me out of the harbor of Genoa, how eagerly my eyes Stretched +along the coast of Sestri, till it discerned the villa gleaming from among +trees at the foot of the mountain. As long as day lasted, I gazed and gazed +upon it, till it lessened and lessened to a mere white speck in the distance; +and still my intense and fixed gaze discerned it, when all other objects of the +coast had blended into indistinct confusion, or were lost in the evening gloom. +</p> + +<p> +On arriving at Naples, I hastened to my paternal home. My heart yearned for the +long-withheld blessing of a father’s love. As I entered the proud portal of the +ancestral palace, my emotions were so great that I could not speak. No one knew +me. The servants gazed at me with curiosity and surprise. A few years of +intellectual elevation and development had made a prodigious change in the poor +fugitive stripling from the convent. Still that no one should know me in my +rightful home was overpowering. I felt like the prodigal son returned. I was a +stranger in the house of my father. I burst into tears, and wept aloud. When I +made myself known, however, all was changed. I who had once been almost +repulsed from its walls, and forced to fly as an exile, was welcomed back with +acclamation, with servility. One of the servants hastened to prepare my father +for my reception; my eagerness to receive the paternal embrace was so great +that I could not await his return; but hurried after him. +</p> + +<p> +What a spectacle met my eyes as I entered the chamber! My father, whom I had +left in the pride of vigorous age, whose noble and majestic bearing had so awed +my young imagination, was bowed down and withered into decrepitude. A paralysis +had ravaged his stately form, and left it a shaking ruin. He sat propped up in +his chair, with pale, relaxed visage and glassy, wandering eye. His intellects +had evidently shared in the ravage of his frame. The servant was endeavoring to +make him comprehend the visitor that was at hand. I tottered up to him and sunk +at his feet. All his past coldness and neglect were forgotten in his present +sufferings. I remembered only that he was my parent, and that I had deserted +him. I clasped his knees; my voice was almost stifled with convulsive sobs. +“Pardon—pardon—oh my father!” was all that I could utter. His apprehension +seemed slowly to return to him. He gazed at me for some moments with a vague, +inquiring look; a convulsive tremor quivered about his lips; he feebly extended +a shaking hand, laid it upon my head, and burst into an infantine flow of +tears. +</p> + +<p> +From that moment he would scarcely spare me from his sight. I appeared the only +object that his heart responded to in the world; all else was as a blank to +him. He had almost lost the powers of speech, and the reasoning faculty seemed +at an end. He was mute and passive; excepting that fits of child-like weeping +would sometimes come over him without any immediate cause. If I left the room +at any time, his eye was incessantly fixed on the door till my return, and on +my entrance there was another gush of tears. +</p> + +<p> +To talk with him of my concerns, in this ruined state of mind, would have been +worse than useless; to have left him, for ever so short a time, would have been +cruel, unnatural. Here then was a new trial for my affections. I wrote to +Bianca an account of my return and of my actual situation; painting in colors +vivid, for they were true, the torments I suffered at our being thus separated; +for to the youthful lover every day of absence is an age of love lost. I +enclosed the letter in one to Filippo, who was the channel of our +correspondence. I received a reply from him full of friendship and sympathy; +from Bianca full of assurances of affection and constancy. +</p> + +<p> +Week after week, month after month elapsed, without making any change in my +circumstances. The vital flame, which had seemed nearly extinct when first I +met my father, kept fluttering on without any apparent diminution. I watched +him constantly, faithfully—I had almost said patiently. I knew that his death +alone would set me free; yet I never at any moment wished it. I felt too glad +to be able to make any atonement for past disobedience; and, denied as I had +been all endearments of relationship in my early days, my heart yearned towards +a father, who, in his age and helplessness, had thrown himself entirely on me +for comfort. My passion for Bianca gained daily more force from absence; by +constant meditation it wore itself a deeper and deeper channel. I made no new +friends nor acquaintances; sought none of the pleasures of Naples which my rank +and fortune threw open to me. Mine was a heart that confined itself to few +objects, but dwelt upon those with the intenser passion. To sit by my father, +and administer to his wants, and to meditate on Bianca in the silence of his +chamber, was my constant habit. Sometimes I amused myself with my pencil in +portraying the image that was ever present to my imagination. I transferred to +canvas every look and smile of hers that dwelt in my heart. I showed them to my +father in hopes of awakening an interest in his bosom for the mere shadow of my +love; but he was too far sunk in intellect to take any more than a child-like +notice of them. +</p> + +<p> +When I received a letter from Bianca it was a new source of solitary luxury. +Her letters, it is true, were less and less frequent, but they were always full +of assurances of unabated affection. They breathed not the frank and innocent +warmth with which she expressed herself in conversation, but I accounted for it +from the embarrassment which inexperienced minds have often to express +themselves upon paper. Filippo assured me of her unaltered constancy. They both +lamented in the strongest terms our continued separation, though they did +justice to the filial feeling that kept me by my father’s side. +</p> + +<p> +Nearly eighteen months elapsed in this protracted exile. To me they were so +many ages. Ardent and impetuous by nature, I scarcely know how I should have +supported so long an absence, had I not felt assured that the faith of Bianca +was equal to my own. At length my father died. Life went from him almost +imperceptibly. I hung over him in mute affliction, and watched the expiring +spasms of nature. His last faltering accents whispered repeatedly a blessing on +me—alas! how has it been fulfilled! +</p> + +<p> +When I had paid due honors to his remains, and laid them in the tomb of our +ancestors, I arranged briefly my affairs; put them in a posture to be easily at +my command from a distance, and embarked once more, with a bounding heart, for +Genoa. +</p> + +<p> +Our voyage was propitious, and oh! what was my rapture when first, in the dawn +of morning, I saw the shadowy summits of the Apennines rising almost like +clouds above the horizon. The sweet breath of summer just moved us over the +long wavering billows that were rolling us on towards Genoa. By degrees the +coast of Sestri rose like a sweet creation of enchantment from the silver bosom +of the deep. I behold the line of villages and palaces studding its borders. My +eye reverted to a well-known point, and at length, from the confusion of +distant objects, it singled out the villa which contained Bianca. It was a mere +speck in the landscape, but glimmering from afar, the polar star of my heart. +</p> + +<p> +Again I gazed at it for a livelong summer’s day; but oh how different the +emotions between departure and return. It now kept growing and growing, instead +of lessening on my sight. My heart seemed to dilate with it. I looked at it +through a telescope. I gradually defined one feature after another. The +balconies of the central saloon where first I met Bianca beneath its roof; the +terrace where we so often had passed the delightful summer evenings; the awning +that shaded her chamber window—I almost fancied I saw her form beneath it. +Could she but know her lover was in the bark whose white sail now gleamed on +the sunny bosom of the sea! My fond impatience increased as we neared the +coast. The ship seemed to lag lazily over the billows; I could almost have +sprung into the sea and swam to the desired shore. +</p> + +<p> +The shadows of evening gradually shrouded the scene, but the moon arose in all +her fullness and beauty and shed the tender light so dear to lovers, over the +romantic coast of Sestri. My whole soul was bathed in unutterable tenderness. I +anticipated the heavenly evenings I should pass in wandering with Bianca by the +light of that blessed moon. +</p> + +<p> +It was late at night before we entered the harbor. As early next morning as I +could get released from the formalities of landing I threw myself on horseback +and hastened to the villa. As I galloped round the rocky promontory on which +stands the Faro, and saw the coast of Sestri opening upon me, a thousand +anxieties and doubts suddenly sprang up in my bosom. There is something fearful +in returning to those we love, while yet uncertain what ills or changes absence +may have effected. The turbulence of my agitation shook my very frame. I +spurred my horse to redoubled speed; he was covered with foam when we both +arrived panting at the gateway that opened to the grounds around the villa. I +left my horse at a cottage and walked through the grounds, that I might regain +tranquillity for the approaching interview. I chid myself for having suffered +mere doubts and surmises thus suddenly to overcome me; but I was always prone +to be carried away by these gusts of the feelings. +</p> + +<p> +On entering the garden everything bore the same look as when I had left it; and +this unchanged aspect of things reassured me. There were the alleys in which I +had so often walked with Bianca; the same shades under which we had so often +sat during the noontide. There were the same flowers of which she was fond; and +which appeared still to be under the ministry of her hand. Everything around +looked and breathed of Bianca; hope and joy flushed in my bosom at every step. +I passed a little bower in which we had often sat and read together. A book and +a glove lay on the bench. It was Bianca’s glove; it was a volume of the +Metestasio I had given her. The glove lay in my favorite passage. I clasped +them to my heart. “All is safe!” exclaimed I, with rapture, “she loves me! she +is still my own!” +</p> + +<p> +I bounded lightly along the avenue down which I had faltered so slowly at my +departure. I beheld her favorite pavilion which had witnessed our parting +scene. The window was open, with the same vine clambering about it, precisely +as when she waved and wept me an adieu. Oh! how transporting was the contrast +in my situation. As I passed near the pavilion, I heard the tones of a female +voice. They thrilled through me with an appeal to my heart not to be mistaken. +Before I could think, I <i>felt</i> they were Bianca’s. For an instant I +paused, overpowered with agitation. I feared to break in suddenly upon her. I +softly ascended the steps of the pavilion. The door was open. I saw Bianca +seated at a table; her back was towards me; she was warbling a soft melancholy +air, and was occupied in drawing. A glance sufficed to show me that she was +copying one of my own paintings. I gazed on her for a moment in a delicious +tumult of emotions. She paused in her singing; a heavy sigh, almost a sob +followed. I could no longer contain myself. “Bianca!” exclaimed I, in a half +smothered voice. She started at the sound; brushed back the ringlets that hung +clustering about her face; darted a glance at me; uttered a piercing shriek and +would have fallen to the earth, had I not caught her in my arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Bianca! my own Bianca!” exclaimed I, folding her to my bosom; my voice stifled +in sobs of convulsive joy. She lay in my arms without sense or motion. Alarmed +at the effects of my own precipitation, I scarce knew what to do. I tried by a +thousand endearing words to call her back to consciousness. She slowly +recovered, and half opening her eyes—“where am I?” murmured she faintly. +“Here,” exclaimed I, pressing her to my bosom. “Here! close to the heart that +adores you; in the arms of your faithful Ottavio!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no! no! no!” shrieked she, starting into sudden life and terror—“away! +away! leave me! leave me!” +</p> + +<p> +She tore herself from my arms; rushed to a corner of the saloon, and covered +her face with her hands, as if the very sight of me were baleful. I was +thunderstruck—I could not believe my senses. I followed her, trembling, +confounded. I endeavored to take her hand, but she shrunk from my very touch +with horror. +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens, Bianca,” exclaimed I, “what is the meaning of this? Is this my +reception after so long an absence? Is this the love you professed for me?” +</p> + +<p> +At the mention of love, a shuddering ran through her. She turned to me a face +wild with anguish. “No more of that! no more of that!” gasped she—“talk not to +me of love—I—I—am married!” +</p> + +<p> +I reeled as if I had received a mortal blow. A sickness struck to my very +heart. I caught at a window frame for support. For a moment or two, everything +was chaos around me. When I recovered, I beheld Bianca lying on a sofa; her +face buried in a pillow, and sobbing convulsively. Indignation at her +fickleness for a moment overpowered every other feeling. +</p> + +<p> +“Faithless—perjured—” cried I, striding across the room. But another glance at +that beautiful being in distress, checked all my wrath. Anger could not dwell +together with her idea in my soul. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Bianca,” exclaimed I, in anguish, “could I have dreamt of this; could I +have suspected you would have been false to me?” +</p> + +<p> +She raised her face all streaming with tears, all disordered with emotion, and +gave me one appealing look—“False to you!—they told me you were dead!” +</p> + +<p> +“What,” said I, “in spite of our constant correspondence?” +</p> + +<p> +She gazed wildly at me—“correspondence!—what correspondence?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you not repeatedly received and replied to my letters?” +</p> + +<p> +She clasped her hands with solemnity and fervor—“As I hope for mercy, never!” +</p> + +<p> +A horrible surmise shot through my brain—“Who told you I was dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was reported that the ship in which you embarked for Naples perished at +sea.” +</p> + +<p> +“But who told you the report?” +</p> + +<p> +She paused for an instant, and trembled— +</p> + +<p> +“Filippo!” +</p> + +<p> +“May the God of heaven curse him!” cried I, extending my clinched fists aloft. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh do not curse him—do not curse him!” exclaimed she—“He is—he is —my +husband!” +</p> + +<p> +This was all that was wanting to unfold the perfidy that had been practised +upon me. My blood boiled like liquid fire in my veins. I gasped with rage too +great for utterance. I remained for a time bewildered by the whirl of horrible +thoughts that rushed through my mind. The poor victim of deception before me +thought it was with her I was incensed. She faintly murmured forth her +exculpation. I will not dwell upon it. I saw in it more than she meant to +reveal. I saw with a glance how both of us had been betrayed. “’Tis well!” +muttered I to myself in smothered accents of concentrated fury. “He shall +account to me for this!” +</p> + +<p> +Bianca overhead me. New terror flashed in her countenance. “For mercy’s sake do +not meet him—say nothing of what has passed—for my sake say nothing to him—I +only shall be the sufferer!” +</p> + +<p> +A new suspicion darted across my mind—“What!” exclaimed I—“do you then +<i>fear</i> him—is he <i>unkind</i> to you—tell me,” reiterated I, grasping her +hand and looking her eagerly in the face—“tell me—<i>dares</i> he to use you +harshly!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! no! no!” cried she faltering and embarrassed; but the glance at her face +had told me volumes. I saw in her pallid and wasted features; in the prompt +terror and subdued agony of her eye a whole history of a mind broken down by +tyranny. Great God! and was this beauteous flower snatched from me to be thus +trampled upon? The idea roused me to madness. I clinched my teeth and my hands; +I foamed at the mouth; every passion seemed to have resolved itself into the +fury that like a lava boiled within my heart. Bianca shrunk from me in +speechless affright. As I strode by the window my eye darted down the alley. +Fatal moment! I beheld Filippo at a distance! My brain was in a delirium—I +sprang from the pavilion, and was before him with the quickness of lightning. +He saw me as I came rushing upon him—he turned pale, looked wildly to right and +left, as if he would have fled, and trembling drew his sword. +</p> + +<p> +“Wretch!” cried I, “well may you draw your weapon!” +</p> + +<p> +I spake not another word—I snatched forth a stiletto, put by the sword which +trembled in his hand, and buried my poniard in his bosom. He fell with the +blow, but my rage was unsated. I sprang upon him with the blood-thirsty feeling +of a tiger; redoubled my blows; mangled him in my frenzy, grasped him by the +throat, until with reiterated wounds and strangling convulsions he expired in +my grasp. I remained glaring on the countenance, horrible in death, that seemed +to stare back with its protruded eyes upon me. Piercing shrieks roused me from +my delirium. I looked round and beheld Bianca flying distractedly towards us. +My brain whirled. I waited not to meet her, but fled from the scene of horror. +I fled forth from the garden like another Cain, a hell within my bosom, and a +curse upon my head. I fled without knowing whither—almost without knowing +why—my only idea was to get farther and farther from the horrors I had left +behind; as if I could throw space between myself and my conscience. I fled to +the Apennines, and wandered for days and days among their savage heights. How I +existed I cannot tell—what rocks and precipices I braved, and how I braved +them, I know not. I kept on and on—trying to outtravel the curse that clung to +me. Alas, the shrieks of Bianca rung for ever in my ear. The horrible +countenance of my victim was for ever before my eyes. “The blood of Filippo +cried to me from the ground.” Rocks, trees, and torrents all resounded with my +crime. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was I felt how much more insupportable is the anguish of remorse than +every other mental pang. Oh! could I but have cast off this crime that festered +in my heart; could I but have regained the innocence that reigned in my breast +as I entered the garden at Sestri; could I but have restored my victim to life, +I felt as if I could look on with transport even though Bianca were in his +arms. +</p> + +<p> +By degrees this frenzied fever of remorse settled into a permanent malady of +the mind. Into one of the most horrible that ever poor wretch was cursed with. +Wherever I went, the countenance of him I had slain appeared to follow me. +Wherever I turned my head I beheld it behind me, hideous with the contortions +of the dying moment. I have tried in every way to escape from this horrible +phantom; but in vain. I know not whether it is an illusion of the mind, the +consequence of my dismal education at the convent, or whether a phantom really +sent by heaven to punish me; but there it ever is—at all times—in all +places—nor has time nor habit had any effect in familiarizing me with its +terrors. I have travelled from place to place, plunged into amusements—tried +dissipation and distraction of every kind—all—all in vain. +</p> + +<p> +I once had recourse to my pencil as a desperate experiment. I painted an exact +resemblance of this phantom face. I placed it before me in hopes that by +constantly contemplating the copy I might diminish the effect of the original. +But I only doubled instead of diminishing the misery. +</p> + +<p> +Such is the curse that has clung to my footsteps—that has made my life a +burthen—but the thoughts of death, terrible. God knows what I have suffered. +What days and days, and nights and nights, of sleepless torment. What a +never-dying worm has preyed upon my heart; what an unquenchable fire has burned +within my brain. He knows the wrongs that wrought upon my poor weak nature; +that converted the tenderest of affections into the deadliest of fury. He knows +best whether a frail erring creature has expiated by long-enduring torture and +measureless remorse, the crime of a moment of madness. Often, often have I +prostrated myself in the dust, and implored that he would give me a sign of his +forgiveness, and let me die.— +</p> + +<p> +Thus far had I written some time since. I had meant to leave this record of +misery and crime with you, to be read when I should be no more. My prayer to +heaven has at length been heard. You were witness to my emotions last evening +at the performance of the Miserere; when the vaulted temple resounded with the +words of atonement and redemption. I heard a voice speaking to me from the +midst of the music; I heard it rising above the pealing of the organ and the +voices of the choir; it spoke to me in tones of celestial melody; it promised +mercy and forgiveness, but demanded from me full expiation. I go to make it. +To-morrow I shall be on my way to Genoa to surrender myself to justice. You who +have pitied my sufferings; who have poured the balm of sympathy into my wounds, +do not shrink from my memory with abhorrence now that you know my story. +Recollect, when you read of my crime I shall have atoned for it with my blood! +</p> + +<p> +When the Baronet had finished, there was an universal desire expressed to see +the painting of this frightful visage. After much entreaty the Baronet +consented, on condition that they should only visit it one by one. He called +his housekeeper and gave her charge to conduct the gentlemen singly to the +chamber. They all returned varying in their stories: some affected in one way, +some in another; some more, some less; but all agreeing that there was a +certain something about the painting that had a very odd effect upon the +feelings. +</p> + +<p> +I stood in a deep bow window with the Baronet, and could not help expressing my +wonder. “After all,” said I, “there are certain mysteries in our nature, +certain inscrutable impulses and influences, that warrant one in being +superstitious. Who can account for so many persons of different characters +being thus strangely affected by a mere painting?” +</p> + +<p> +“And especially when not one of them has seen it!” said the Baronet with a +smile. +</p> + +<p> +“How?” exclaimed I, “not seen it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not one of them?” replied he, laying his finger on his lips in sign of +secrecy. “I saw that some of them were in a bantering vein, and I did not +choose that the memento of the poor Italian should be made a jest of. So I gave +the housekeeper a hint to show them all to a different chamber!” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Thus end the Stories of the Nervous Gentleman. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="part02"></a>PART SECOND<br/> +BUCKTHORNE AND HIS FRIENDS</h2> + +<p class="poem"> +“’Tis a very good world that we live in,<br/> +To lend, or to spend, or to give in;<br/> +But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man’s own,<br/> +’Tis the very worst world, sir, that ever was known.”<br/> +—LINES FROM AN INN WINDOW.<br/> +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap09"></a>LITERARY LIFE</h3> + +<p> +Among the great variety of characters which fall in a traveller’s way, I became +acquainted during my sojourn in London, with an eccentric personage of the name +of Buckthorne. He was a literary man, had lived much in the metropolis, and had +acquired a great deal of curious, though unprofitable knowledge concerning it. +He was a great observer of character, and could give the natural history of +every odd animal that presented itself in this great wilderness of men. Finding +me very curious about literary life and literary characters, he took much pains +to gratify my curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“The literary world of England,” said he to me one day, “is made up of a number +of little fraternities, each existing merely for itself, and thinking the rest +of the world created only to look on and admire. It may be resembled to the +firmament, consisting of a number of systems, each composed of its own central +sun with its revolving train of moons and satellites, all acting in the most +harmonious concord; but the comparison fails in part, inasmuch as the literary +world has no general concord. Each system acts independently of the rest, and +indeed considers all other stars as mere exhalations and transient meteors, +beaming for awhile with false fires, but doomed soon to fall and be forgotten; +while its own luminaries are the lights of the universe, destined to increase +in splendor and to shine steadily on to immortality.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray,” said I, “how is a man to get a peep into one of these systems you +talk of? I presume an intercourse with authors is a kind of intellectual +exchange, where one must bring his commodities to barter, and always give a +<i>quid pro quo</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh, pooh—how you mistake,” said Buckthorne, smiling; “you must never think +to become popular among wits by shining. They go into society to shine +themselves, not to admire the brilliancy of others. I thought as you do when I +first cultivated the society of men of letters, and never went to a +blue-stocking coterie without studying my part beforehand as diligently as an +actor. The consequence was, I soon got the name of an intolerable proser, and +should in a little while have been completely excommunicated had I not changed +my plan of operations. From thenceforth I became a most assiduous listener, or +if ever I were eloquent, it was tête-a-tête with an author in praise of his own +works, or what is nearly as acceptable, in disparagement of the works of his +contemporaries. If ever he spoke favorably of the productions of some +particular friend, I ventured boldly to dissent from him, and to prove that his +friend was a blockhead; and much as people say of the pertinacity and +irritability of authors, I never found one to take offence at my +contradictions. No, no, sir, authors are particularly candid in admitting the +faults of their friends. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, I was extremely sparing of my remarks on all modern works, excepting +to make sarcastic observations on the most distinguished writers of the day. I +never ventured to praise an author that had not been dead at least half a +century; and even then I was rather cautious; for you must know that many old +writers have been enlisted under the banners of different sects, and their +merits have become as complete topics of party prejudice and dispute, as the +merits of living statesmen and politicians. Nay, there have been whole periods +of literature absolutely <i>taboo’d</i>, to use a South Sea phrase. It is, for +example, as much as a man’s reputation is worth, in some circles, to say a word +in praise of any writers of the reign of Charles the Second, or even of Queen +Anne; they being all declared to be Frenchmen in disguise.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray, then,” said I, “when am I to know that I am on safe grounds; being +totally unacquainted with the literary landmarks and the boundary lines of +fashionable taste?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” replied he, there is fortunately one tract of literature that forms a +kind of neutral ground, on which all the literary world meet amicably; lay down +their weapons and even run riot in their excess of good humor, and this is, the +reigns of Elizabeth and James. Here you may praise away at a venture; here it +is ‘cut and come again,’ and the more obscure the author, and the more quaint +and crabbed his style, the more your admiration will smack of the real relish +of the connoisseur; whose taste, like that of an epicure, is always for game +that has an antiquated flavor. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” continued he, “as you seem anxious to know something of literary society +I will take an opportunity to introduce you to some coterie, where the talents +of the day are assembled. I cannot promise you, however, that they will be of +the first order. Somehow or other, our great geniuses are not gregarious, they +do not go in flocks, but fly singly in general society. They prefer mingling, +like common men, with the multitude; and are apt to carry nothing of the author +about them but the reputation. It is only the inferior orders that herd +together, acquire strength and importance by their confederacies, and bear all +the distinctive characteristics of their species.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap10"></a>A LITERARY DINNER</h3> + +<p> +A few days after this conversation with Mr. Buckthorne, he called upon me, and +took me with him to a regular literary dinner. It was given by a great +bookseller, or rather a company of booksellers, whose firm surpassed in length +even that of Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednego. +</p> + +<p> +I was surprised to find between twenty and thirty guests assembled, most of +whom I had never seen before. Buckthorne explained this to me by informing me +that this was a “business dinner,” or kind of field day, which the house gave +about twice a year to its authors. It is true, they did occasionally give snug +dinners to three or four literary men at a time, but then these were generally +select authors; favorites of the public; such as had arrived at their sixth and +seventh editions. “There are,” said he, “certain geographical boundaries in the +land of literature, and you may judge tolerably well of an author’s popularity, +by the wine his bookseller gives him. An author crosses the port line about the +third edition and gets into claret, but when he has reached the sixth and +seventh, he may revel in champagne and burgundy.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray,” said I, “how far may these gentlemen have reached that I see around +me; are any of these claret drinkers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly, not exactly. You find at these great dinners the common steady +run of authors, one, two, edition men—or if any others are invited they are +aware that it is a kind of republican meeting—You understand me—a meeting of +the republic of letters, and that they must expect nothing but plain +substantial fare.” +</p> + +<p> +These hints enabled me to comprehend more fully the arrangement of the table. +The two ends were occupied by two partners of the house. And the host seemed to +have adopted Addison’s ideas as to the literary precedence of his guests. A +popular poet had the post of honor, opposite to whom was a hot-pressed +traveller in quarto, with plates. A grave-looking antiquarian, who had produced +several solid works, which were much quoted and little read, was treated with +great respect, and seated next to a neat, dressy gentleman in black, who had +written a thin, genteel, hot-pressed octavo on political economy that was +getting into fashion. Several three-volume duodecimo men of fair currency were +placed about the centre of the table; while the lower end was taken up with +small poets, translators, and authors, who had not as yet risen into much +notice. +</p> + +<p> +The conversation during dinner was by fits and starts; breaking out here and +there in various parts of the table in small flashes, and ending in smoke. The +poet, who had the confidence of a man on good terms with the world and +independent of his bookseller, was very gay and brilliant, and said many clever +things, which set the partner next him, in a roar, and delighted all the +company. The other partner, however, maintained his sedateness, and kept +carving on, with the air of a thorough man of business, intent upon the +occupation of the moment. His gravity was explained to me by my friend +Buckthorne. He informed me that the concerns of the house were admirably +distributed among the partners. “Thus, for instance,” said he, “the grave +gentleman is the carving partner who attends to the joints, and the other is +the laughing partner who attends to the jokes.” +</p> + +<p> +The general conversation was chiefly carried on at the upper end of the table; +as the authors there seemed to possess the greatest courage of the tongue. As +to the crew at the lower end, if they did not make much figure in talking, they +did in eating. Never was there a more determined, inveterate, +thoroughly-sustained attack on the trencher, than by this phalanx of +masticators. When the cloth was removed, and the wine began to circulate, they +grew very merry and jocose among themselves. Their jokes, however, if by chance +any of them reached the upper end of the table, seldom produced much effect. +Even the laughing partner did not seem to think it necessary to honor them with +a smile; which my neighbour Buckthorne accounted for, by informing me that +there was a certain degree of popularity to be obtained, before a bookseller +could afford to laugh at an author’s jokes. +</p> + +<p> +Among this crew of questionable gentlemen thus seated below the salt, my eye +singled out one in particular. He was rather shabbily dressed; though he had +evidently made the most of a rusty black coat, and wore his shirt-frill plaited +and puffed out voluminously at the bosom. His face was dusky, but +florid—perhaps a little too florid, particularly about the nose, though the +rosy hue gave the greater lustre to a twinkling black eye. He had a little the +look of a boon companion, with that dash of the poor devil in it which gives an +inexpressibly mellow tone to a man’s humor. I had seldom seen a face of richer +promise; but never was promise so ill kept. He said nothing; ate and drank with +the keen appetite of a gazetteer, and scarcely stopped to laugh even at the +good jokes from the upper end of the table. I inquired who he was. Buckthorne +looked at him attentively. “Gad,” said he, “I have seen that face before, but +where I cannot recollect. He cannot be an author of any note. I suppose some +writer of sermons or grinder of foreign travels.” +</p> + +<p> +After dinner we retired to another room to take tea and coffee, where we were +re-enforced by a cloud of inferior guests. Authors of small volumes in boards, +and pamphlets stitched in blue paper. These had not as yet arrived to the +importance of a dinner invitation, but were invited occasionally to pass the +evening “in a friendly way.” They were very respectful to the partners, and +indeed seemed to stand a little in awe of them; but they paid very devoted +court to the lady of the house, and were extravagantly fond of the children. I +looked round for the poor devil author in the rusty black coat and magnificent +frill, but he had disappeared immediately after leaving the table; having a +dread, no doubt, of the glaring light of a drawing-room. Finding nothing +farther to interest my attention, I took my departure as soon as coffee had +been served, leaving the port and the thin, genteel, hot-pressed, octavo +gentlemen, masters of the field. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap11"></a>THE CLUB OF QUEER FELLOWS</h3> + +<p> +I think it was but the very next evening that in coming out of Covent Garden +Theatre with my eccentric friend Buckthorne, he proposed to give me another +peep at life and character. Finding me willing for any research of the kind, he +took me through a variety of the narrow courts and lanes about Covent Garden, +until we stopped before a tavern from which we heard the bursts of merriment of +a jovial party. There would be a loud peal of laughter, then an interval, then +another peal; as if a prime wag were telling a story. After a little while +there was a song, and at the close of each stanza a hearty roar and a vehement +thumping on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the place,” whispered Buckthorne. “It is the ‘Club of Queer Fellows.’ +A great resort of the small wits, third-rate actors, and newspaper critics of +the theatres. Any one can go in on paying a shilling at the bar for the use of +the club.” +</p> + +<p> +We entered, therefore, without ceremony, and took our seats at a lone table in +a dusky corner of the room. The club was assembled round a table, on which +stood beverages of various kinds, according to the taste of the individual. The +members were a set of queer fellows indeed; but what was my surprise on +recognizing in the prime wit of the meeting the poor devil author whom I had +remarked at the booksellers’ dinner for his promising face and his complete +taciturnity. Matters, however, were entirely changed with him. There he was a +mere cypher: here he was lord of the ascendant; the choice spirit, the dominant +genius. He sat at the head of the table with his hat on, and an eye beaming +even more luminously than his nose. He had a quiz and a fillip for every one, +and a good thing on every occasion. Nothing could be said or done without +eliciting a spark from him; and I solemnly declare I have heard much worse wit +even from noblemen. His jokes, it must be confessed, were rather wet, but they +suited the circle in which he presided. The company were in that maudlin mood +when a little wit goes a great way. Every time he opened his lips there was +sure to be a roar, and sometimes before he had time to speak. +</p> + +<p> +We were fortunate enough to enter in time for a glee composed by him expressly +for the club, and which he sang with two boon companions, who would have been +worthy subjects for Hogarth’s pencil. As they were each provided with a written +copy, I was enabled to procure the reading of it. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +Merrily, merrily push round the glass,<br/> +And merrily troll the glee,<br/> +For he who won’t drink till he wink is an ass,<br/> +So neighbor I drink to thee.<br/> +Merrily, merrily puddle thy nose,<br/> +Until it right rosy shall be;<br/> +For a jolly red nose, I speak under the rose,<br/> +Is a sign of good company.<br/> +</p> + +<p> +We waited until the party broke up, and no one but the wit remained. He sat at +the table with his legs stretched under it, and wide apart; his hands in his +breeches pockets; his head drooped upon his breast; and gazing with lack-lustre +countenance on an empty tankard. His gayety was gone, his fire completely +quenched. +</p> + +<p> +My companion approached and startled him from his fit of brown study, +introducing himself on the strength of their having dined together at the +booksellers’. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said he, “it seems to me I have seen you before; your face is +surely the face of an old acquaintance, though for the life of me I cannot tell +where I have known you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very likely,” said he with a smile; “many of my old friends have forgotten me. +Though, to tell the truth, my memory in this instance is as bad as your own. +If, however, it will assist your recollection in any way, my name is Thomas +Dribble, at your service.” +</p> + +<p> +“What, Tom Dribble, who was at old Birchell’s school in Warwickshire?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same,” said the other, coolly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, then we are old schoolmates, though it’s no wonder you don’t recollect +me. I was your junior by several years; don’t you recollect little Jack +Buckthorne?” +</p> + +<p> +Here then ensued a scene of school-fellow recognition; and a world of talk +about old school times and school pranks. Mr. Dribble ended by observing, with +a heavy sigh, “that times were sadly changed since those days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Faith, Mr. Dribble,” said I, “you seem quite a different man here from what +you were at dinner. I had no idea that you had so much stuff in you. There you +were all silence; but here you absolutely keep the table in a roar.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, my dear sir,” replied he, with a shake of the head and a shrug of the +shoulder, “I’m a mere glow-worm. I never shine by daylight. Besides, it’s a +hard thing for a poor devil of an author to shine at the table of a rich +bookseller. Who do you think would laugh at any thing I could say, when I had +some of the current wits of the day about me? But here, though a poor devil, I +am among still poorer devils than myself; men who look up to me as a man of +letters and a bel esprit, and all my jokes pass as sterling gold from the +mint.” +</p> + +<p> +“You surely do yourself injustice, sir,” said I; “I have certainly heard more +good things from you this evening than from any of those beaux esprits by whom +you appear to have been so daunted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, sir! but they have luck on their side; they are in the fashion— there’s +nothing like being in fashion. A man that has once got his character up for a +wit, is always sure of a laugh, say what he may. He may utter as much nonsense +as he pleases, and all will pass current. No one stops to question the coin of +a rich man; but a poor devil cannot pass off either a joke or a guinea, without +its being examined on both sides. Wit and coin are always doubted with a +threadbare coat. +</p> + +<p> +“For my part,” continued he, giving his hat a twitch a little more on one side, +“for my part, I hate your fine dinners; there’s nothing, sir, like the freedom +of a chop-house. I’d rather, any time, have my steak and tankard among my own +set, than drink claret and eat venison with your cursed civil, elegant company, +who never laugh at a good joke from a poor devil, for fear of its being vulgar. +A good joke grows in a wet soil; it flourishes in low places, but withers on +your d—d high, dry grounds. I once kept high company, sir, until I nearly +ruined myself; I grew so dull, and vapid, and genteel. Nothing saved me but +being arrested by my landlady and thrown into prison; where a course of +catch-clubs, eight-penny ale, and poor-devil company, manured my mind and +brought it back to itself again.” +</p> + +<p> +As it was now growing late we parted for the evening; though I felt anxious to +know more of this practical philosopher. I was glad, therefore, when Buckthorne +proposed to have another meeting to talk over old school times, and inquired +his school-mate’s address. The latter seemed at first a little shy of naming +his lodgings; but suddenly assuming an air of hardihood—“Green Arbour court, +sir,” exclaimed he—“number—in Green Arbour court. You must know the place. +Classic ground, sir! classic ground! It was there Goldsmith wrote his Vicar of +Wakefield. I always like to live in literary haunts.” +</p> + +<p> +I was amused with this whimsical apology for shabby quarters. On our Way +homewards Buckthorne assured me that this Dribble had been the prime wit and +great wag of the school in their boyish days, and one of those unlucky urchins +denominated bright geniuses. As he perceived me curious respecting his old +school-mate, he promised to take me with him, in his proposed visit to Green +Arbour court. +</p> + +<p> +A few mornings afterwards he called upon me, and we set forth on our +expedition. He led me through a variety of singular alleys, and courts, and +blind passages; for he appeared to be profoundly versed in all the intricate +geography of the metropolis. At length we came out upon Fleet Market, and +traversing it, turned up a narrow street to the bottom of a long steep flight +of stone steps, named Break-neck Stairs. These, he told me, led up to Green +Arbour court, and that down them poor Goldsmith might many a time have risked +his neck. When we entered the court, I could not but smile to think in what +out-of-the-way corners genius produces her bantlings! And the muses, those +capricious dames, who, forsooth, so often refuse to visit palaces, and deny a +single smile to votaries in splendid studies and gilded drawing-rooms,—what +holes and burrows will they frequent to lavish their favors on some ragged +disciple! +</p> + +<p> +This Green Arbour court I found to be a small square of tall and Miserable +houses, the very intestines of which seemed turned inside out, to judge from +the old garments and frippery that fluttered from every window. It appeared to +be a region of washerwomen, and lines were stretched about the little square, +on which clothes were dangling to dry. Just as we entered the square, a scuffle +took place between two viragos about a disputed right to a washtub, and +immediately the whole community was in a hubbub. Heads in mob caps popped out +of every window, and such a clamor of tongues ensued that I was fain to stop my +ears. Every Amazon took part with one or other of the disputants, and +brandished her arms dripping with soapsuds, and fired away from her window as +from the embrazure of a fortress; while the swarms of children nestled and +cradled in every procreant chamber of this hive, waking with the noise, set up +their shrill pipes to swell the general concert. +</p> + +<p> +Poor Goldsmith! what a time must he have had of it, with his quiet Disposition +and nervous habits, penned up in this den of noise and vulgarity. How strange +that while every sight and sound was sufficient to embitter the heart and fill +it with misanthropy, his pen should be dropping the honey of Hybla. Yet it is +more than probable that he drew many of his inimitable pictures of low life +from the scenes which surrounded him in this abode. The circumstance of Mrs. +Tibbs being obliged to wash her husband’s two shirts in a neighbor’s house, who +refused to lend her washtub, may have been no sport of fancy, but a fact +passing under his own eye. His landlady may have sat for the picture, and Beau +Tibbs’ scanty wardrobe have been a facsimile of his own. +</p> + +<p> +It was with some difficulty that we found our way to Dribble’s lodgings. They +were up two pair of stairs, in a room that looked upon the court, and when we +entered he was seated on the edge of his bed, writing at a broken table. He +received us, however, with a free, open, poor devil air, that was irresistible. +It is true he did at first appear slightly confused; buttoned up his waistcoat +a little higher and tucked in a stray frill of linen. But he recollected +himself in an instant; gave a half swagger, half leer, as he stepped forth to +receive us; drew a three-legged stool for Mr. Buckthorne; pointed me to a +lumbering old damask chair that looked like a dethroned monarch in exile, and +bade us welcome to his garret. +</p> + +<p> +We soon got engaged in conversation. Buckthorne and he had much to say about +early school scenes; and as nothing opens a man’s heart more than recollections +of the kind, we soon drew from him a brief outline of his literary career. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap12"></a>THE POOR DEVIL AUTHOR</h3> + +<p> +I began life unluckily by being the wag and bright fellow at school; and I had +the farther misfortune of becoming the great genius of my native village. My +father was a country attorney, and intended that I should succeed him in +business; but I had too much genius to study, and he was too fond of my genius +to force it into the traces. So I fell into bad company and took to bad habits. +Do not mistake me. I mean that I fell into the company of village literati and +village blues, and took to writing village poetry. +</p> + +<p> +It was quite the fashion in the village to be literary. We had a little knot of +choice spirits who assembled frequently together, formed ourselves into a +Literary, Scientific, and Philosophical Society, and fancied ourselves the most +learned philos in existence. Every one had a great character assigned him, +suggested by some casual habit or affectation. One heavy fellow drank an +enormous quantity of tea; rolled in his armchair, talked sententiously, +pronounced dogmatically, and was considered a second Dr. Johnson; another, who +happened to be a curate, uttered coarse jokes, wrote doggerel rhymes, and was +the Swift of our association. Thus we had also our Popes and Goldsmiths and +Addisons, and a blue-stocking lady, whose drawing-room we frequented, who +corresponded about nothing with all the world, and wrote letters with the +stiffness and formality of a printed book, was cried up as another Mrs. +Montagu. I was, by common consent, the juvenile prodigy, the poetical youth, +the great genius, the pride and hope of the village, through whom it was to +become one day as celebrated as Stratford-on-Avon. +</p> + +<p> +My father died and left me his blessing and his business. His blessing brought +no money into my pocket; and as to his business it soon deserted me: for I was +busy writing poetry, and could not attend to law; and my clients, though they +had great respect for my talents, had no faith in a poetical attorney. +</p> + +<p> +I lost my business therefore, spent my money, and finished my poem. It was the +Pleasures of Melancholy, and was cried up to the skies by the whole circle. The +Pleasures of Imagination, the Pleasures of Hope, and the Pleasures of Memory, +though each had placed its author in the first rank of poets, were blank prose +in comparison. Our Mrs. Montagu would cry over it from beginning to end. It was +pronounced by all the members of the Literary, Scientific, and Philosophical +Society the greatest poem of the age, and all anticipated the noise it would +make in the great world. There was not a doubt but the London booksellers would +be mad after it, and the only fear of my friends was, that I would make a +sacrifice by selling it too cheap. +</p> + +<p> +Every time they talked the matter over they increased the price. They reckoned +up the great sums given for the poems of certain popular writers, and +determined that mine was worth more than all put together, and ought to be paid +for accordingly. For my part, I was modest in my expectations, and determined +that I would be satisfied with a thousand guineas. So I put my poem in my +pocket and set off for London. +</p> + +<p> +My journey was joyous. My heart was light as my purse, and my head full of +anticipations of fame and fortune. With what swelling pride did I cast my eyes +upon old London from the heights of Highgate. I was like a general looking down +upon a place he expects to conquer. The great metropolis lay stretched before +me, buried under a home-made cloud of murky smoke, that wrapped it from the +brightness of a sunny day, and formed for it a kind of artificial bad weather. +At the outskirts of the city, away to the west, the smoke gradually decreased +until all was clear and sunny, and the view stretched uninterrupted to the blue +line of the Kentish Hills. +</p> + +<p> +My eye turned fondly to where the mighty cupola of St. Paul’s swelled Dimly +through this misty chaos, and I pictured to myself the solemn realm of learning +that lies about its base. How soon should the Pleasures of Melancholy throw +this world of booksellers and printers into a bustle of business and delight! +How soon should I hear my name repeated by printers’ devils throughout Pater +Noster Row, and Angel Court, and Ave Maria Lane, until Amen corner should echo +back the sound! +</p> + +<p> +Arrived in town, I repaired at once to the most fashionable publisher. Every +new author patronizes him of course. In fact, it had been determined in the +village circle that he should be the fortunate man. I cannot tell you how +vaingloriously I walked the streets; my head was in the clouds. I felt the airs +of heaven playing about it, and fancied it already encircled by a halo of +literary glory. +</p> + +<p> +As I passed by the windows of bookshops, I anticipated the time when my work +would be shining among the hotpressed wonders of the day; and my face, +scratched on copper, or cut in wood, figuring in fellowship with those of Scott +and Byron and Moore. +</p> + +<p> +When I applied at the publisher’s house there was something in the loftiness of +my air, and the dinginess of my dress, that struck the clerks with reverence. +They doubtless took me for some person of consequence, probably a digger of +Greek roots, or a penetrator of pyramids. A proud man in a dirty shirt is +always an imposing character in the world of letters; one must feel +intellectually secure before he can venture to dress shabbily; none but a great +scholar or a great genius dares to be dirty; so I was ushered at once to the +sanctum sanctorum of this high priest of Minerva. +</p> + +<p> +The publishing of books is a very different affair now-a-days from what it was +in the time of Bernard Lintot. I found the publisher a fashionably-dressed man, +in an elegant drawing-room, furnished with sofas and portraits of celebrated +authors, and cases of splendidly bound books. He was writing letters at an +elegant table. This was transacting business in style. The place seemed suited +to the magnificent publications that issued from it. I rejoiced at the choice I +had made of a publisher, for I always liked to encourage men of taste and +spirit. +</p> + +<p> +I stepped up to the table with the lofty poetical port that I had Been +accustomed to maintain in our village circle; though I threw in it something of +a patronizing air, such as one feels when about to make a man’s fortune. The +publisher paused with his pen in his hand, and seemed waiting in mute suspense +to know what was to be announced by so singular an apparition. +</p> + +<p> +I put him at his ease in a moment, for I felt that I had but to come, see, and +conquer. I made known my name, and the name of my poem; produced my precious +roll of blotted manuscript, laid it on the table with an emphasis, and told him +at once, to save time and come directly to the point, the price was one +thousand guineas. +</p> + +<p> +I had given him no time to speak, nor did he seem so inclined. He Continued +looking at me for a moment with an air of whimsical perplexity; scanned me from +head to foot; looked down at the manuscript, then up again at me, then pointed +to a chair; and whistling softly to himself, went on writing his letter. +</p> + +<p> +I sat for some time waiting his reply, supposing he was making up his mind; but +he only paused occasionally to take a fresh dip of ink; to stroke his chin or +the tip of his nose, and then resumed his writing. It was evident his mind was +intently occupied upon some other subject; but I had no idea that any other +subject should be attended to and my poem lie unnoticed on the table. I had +supposed that every thing would make way for the Pleasures of Melancholy. +</p> + +<p> +My gorge at length rose within me. I took up my manuscript; thrust it into my +pocket, and walked out of the room: making some noise as I went, to let my +departure be heard. The publisher, however, was too much busied in minor +concerns to notice it. I was suffered to walk down-stairs without being called +back. I sallied forth into the street, but no clerk was sent after me, nor did +the publisher call after me from the drawing-room window. I have been told +since, that he considered me either a madman or a fool. I leave you to judge +how much he was in the wrong in his opinion. +</p> + +<p> +When I turned the corner my crest fell. I cooled down in my pride and my +expectations, and reduced my terms with the next bookseller to whom I applied. +I had no better success: nor with a third: nor with a fourth. I then desired +the booksellers to make an offer themselves; but the deuce an offer would they +make. They told me poetry was a mere drug; everybody wrote poetry; the market +was overstocked with it. And then, they said, the title of my poem was not +taking: that pleasures of all kinds were worn threadbare; nothing but horrors +did now-a-days, and even these were almost worn out. Tales of pirates, robbers, +and bloody Turks might answer tolerably well; but then they must come from some +established well-known name, or the public would not look at them. +</p> + +<p> +At last I offered to leave my poem with a bookseller to read it and judge for +himself. “Why, really, my dear Mr.—a—a—I forget your name,” said he, cutting an +eye at my rusty coat and shabby gaiters, “really, sir, we are so pressed with +business just now, and have so many manuscripts on hand to read, that we have +not time to look at any new production, but if you can call again in a week or +two, or say the middle of next month, we may be able to look over your writings +and give you an answer. Don’t forget, the month after next—good morning, +sir—happy to see you any time you are passing this way”—so saying he bowed me +out in the civilest way imaginable. In short, sir, instead of an eager +competition to secure my poem I could not even get it read! In the mean time I +was harassed by letters from my friends, wanting to know when the work was to +appear; who was to be my publisher; but above all things warning me not to let +it go too cheap. +</p> + +<p> +There was but one alternative left. I determined to publish the poem myself; +and to have my triumph over the booksellers, when it should become the fashion +of the day. I accordingly published the Pleasures of Melancholy and ruined +myself. Excepting the copies sent to the reviews, and to my friends in the +country, not one, I believe, ever left the bookseller’s warehouse. The +printer’s bill drained my purse, and the only notice that was taken of my work +was contained in the advertisements paid for by myself. +</p> + +<p> +I could have borne all this, and have attributed it as usual to the +mismanagement of the publisher, or the want of taste in the public: and could +have made the usual appeal to posterity, but my village friends would not let +me rest in quiet. They were picturing me to themselves feasting with the great, +communing with the literary, and in the high course of fortune and renown. +Every little while, some one came to me with a letter of introduction from the +village circle, recommending him to my attentions, and requesting that I would +make him known in society; with a hint that an introduction to the house of a +celebrated literary nobleman would be extremely agreeable. +</p> + +<p> +I determined, therefore, to change my lodgings, drop my correspondence, and +disappear altogether from the view of my village admirers. Besides, I was +anxious to make one more poetic attempt. I was by no means disheartened by the +failure of my first. My poem was evidently too didactic. The public was wise +enough. It no longer read for instruction. “They want horrors, do they?” said +I, “I’faith, then they shall have enough of them.” So I looked out for some +quiet retired place, where I might be out of reach of my friends, and have +leisure to cook up some delectable dish of poetical “hell-broth.” +</p> + +<p> +I had some difficulty in finding a place to my mind, when chance threw me in +the way Of Canonbury Castle. It is an ancient brick tower, hard by “merry +Islington;” the remains of a hunting-seat of Queen Elizabeth, where she took +the pleasures of the country, when the neighborhood was all woodland. What gave +it particular interest in my eyes, was the circumstance that it had been the +residence of a poet. It was here Goldsmith resided when he wrote his Deserted +Village. I was shown the very apartment. It was a relique of the original style +of the castle, with pannelled wainscots and gothic windows. I was pleased with +its air of antiquity, and with its having been the residence of poor Goldy. +</p> + +<p> +“Goldsmith was a pretty poet,” said I to myself, “a very pretty poet; though +rather of the old school. He did not think and feel so strongly as is the +fashion now-a-days; but had he lived in these times of hot hearts and hot +heads, he would have written quite differently.” +</p> + +<p> +In a few days I was quietly established in my new quarters; my books all +arranged, my writing desk placed by a window looking out into the field; and I +felt as snug as Robinson Crusoe, when he had finished his bower. For several +days I enjoyed all the novelty of change and the charms which grace a new +lodgings before one has found out their defects. I rambled about the fields +where I fancied Goldsmith had rambled. I explored merry Islington; ate my +solitary dinner at the Black Bull, which according to tradition was a country +seat of Sir Walter Raleigh, and would sit and sip my wine and muse on old times +in a quaint old room, where many a council had been held. +</p> + +<p> +All this did very well for a few days: I was stimulated by novelty; inspired by +the associations awakened in my mind by these curious haunts, and began to +think I felt the spirit of composition stirring within me; but Sunday came, and +with it the whole city world, swarming about Canonbury Castle. I could not open +my window but I was stunned with shouts and noises from the cricket ground. The +late quiet road beneath my window was alive with the tread of feet and clack of +tongues; and to complete my misery, I found that my quiet retreat was +absolutely a “show house!” the tower and its contents being shown to strangers +at sixpence a head. +</p> + +<p> +There was a perpetual tramping up-stairs of citizens and their families, to +look about the country from the top of the tower, and to take a peep at the +city through the telescope, to try if they could discern their own chimneys. +And then, in the midst of a vein of thought, or a moment of inspiration, I was +interrupted, and all my ideas put to flight, by my intolerable landlady’s +tapping at the door, and asking me, if I would “jist please to let a lady and +gentleman come in to take a look at Mr. Goldsmith’s room.” +</p> + +<p> +If you know anything what an author’s study is, and what an author is himself, +you must know that there was no standing this. I put a positive interdict on my +room’s being exhibited; but then it was shown when I was absent, and my papers +put in confusion; and on returning home one day, I absolutely found a cursed +tradesman and his daughters gaping over my manuscripts; and my landlady in a +panic at my appearance. I tried to make out a little longer by taking the key +in my pocket, but it would not do. I overheard mine hostess one day telling +some of her customers on the stairs that the room was occupied by an author, +who was always in a tantrum if interrupted; and I immediately perceived, by a +slight noise at the door, that they were peeping at me through the key-hole. By +the head of Apollo, but this was quite too much! with all my eagerness for +fame, and my ambition of the stare of the million, I had no idea of being +exhibited by retail, at sixpence a head, and that through a key-hole. So I bade +adieu to Canonbury Castle, merry Islington, and the haunts of poor Goldsmith, +without having advanced a single line in my labors. +</p> + +<p> +My next quarters were at a small white-washed cottage, which stands not far +from Hempstead, just on the brow of a hill, looking over Chalk farm, and Camden +town, remarkable for the rival houses of Mother Red Cap and Mother Black Cap; +and so across Cruckskull common to the distant city. +</p> + +<p> +The cottage is in no wise remarkable in itself; but I regarded it with +reverence, for it had been the asylum of a persecuted author. Hither poor +Steele had retreated and lain perdue when persecuted by creditors and bailiffs; +those immemorial plagues of authors and free-spirited gentlemen; and here he +had written many numbers of the Spectator. It was from hence, too, that he had +despatched those little notes to his lady, so full of affection and +whimsicality; in which the fond husband, the careless gentleman, and the +shifting spendthrift, were so oddly blended. I thought, as I first eyed the +window, of his apartment, that I could sit within it and write volumes. +</p> + +<p> +No such thing! It was haymaking season, and, as ill luck would have it, +immediately opposite the cottage was a little alehouse with the sign of the +load of hay. Whether it was there in Steele’s time or not I cannot say; but it +set all attempt at conception or inspiration at defiance. It was the resort of +all the Irish haymakers who mow the broad fields in the neighborhood; and of +drovers and teamsters who travel that road. Here would they gather in the +endless summer twilight, or by the light of the harvest moon, and sit round a +table at the door; and tipple, and laugh, and quarrel, and fight, and sing +drowsy songs, and dawdle away the hours until the deep solemn notes of St. +Paul’s clock would warn the varlets home. +</p> + +<p> +In the day-time I was still less able to write. It was broad summer. The +haymakers were at work in the fields, and the perfume of the new-mown hay +brought with it the recollection of my native fields. So instead of remaining +in my room to write, I went wandering about Primrose Hill and Hempstead Heights +and Shepherd’s Field, and all those Arcadian scenes so celebrated by London +bards. I cannot tell you how many delicious hours I have passed lying on the +cocks of new-mown hay, on the pleasant slopes of some of those hills, inhaling +the fragrance of the fields, while the summer fly buzzed above me, or the +grasshopper leaped into my bosom, and how I have gazed with half-shut eye upon +the smoky mass of London, and listened to the distant sound of its population, +and pitied the poor sons of earth toiling in its bowels, like Gnomes in “the +dark gold mine.” +</p> + +<p> +People may say what they please about Cockney pastorals; but after all, there +is a vast deal of rural beauty about the western vicinity of London; and any +one that has looked down upon the valley of Westend, with its soft bosom of +green pasturage, lying open to the south, and dotted with cattle; the steeple +of Hempstead rising among rich groves on the brow of the hill, and the learned +height of Harrow in the distance; will confess that never has he seen a more +absolutely rural landscape in the vicinity of a great metropolis. +</p> + +<p> +Still, however, I found myself not a whit the better off for my frequent change +of lodgings; and I began to discover that in literature, as in trade, the old +proverb holds good, “a rolling stone gathers no moss.” +</p> + +<p> +The tranquil beauty of the country played the very vengeance with me. I could +not mount my fancy into the termagant vein. I could not conceive, amidst the +smiling landscape, a scene of blood and murder; and the smug citizens in +breeches and gaiters, put all ideas of heroes and bandits out of my brain. I +could think of nothing but dulcet subjects. “The pleasures of spring”—“the +pleasures of solitude”—“the pleasures of tranquillity”—“the pleasures of +sentiment”—nothing but pleasures; and I had the painful experience of “the +pleasures of melancholy” too strongly in my recollection to be beguiled by +them. +</p> + +<p> +Chance at length befriended me. I had frequently in my ramblings loitered about +Hempstead Hill; which is a kind of Parnassus of the metropolis. At such times I +occasionally took my dinner at Jack Straw’s Castle. It is a country inn so +named. The very spot where that notorious rebel and his followers held their +council of war. It is a favorite resort of citizens when rurally inclined, as +it commands fine fresh air and a good view of the city. +</p> + +<p> +I sat one day in the public room of this inn, ruminating over a beefsteak and a +pint of port, when my imagination kindled up with ancient and heroic images. I +had long wanted a theme and a hero; both suddenly broke upon my mind; I +determined to write a poem on the history of Jack Straw. I was so full of my +subject that I was fearful of being anticipated. I wondered that none of the +poets of the day, in their researches after ruffian heroes, had ever thought of +Jack Straw. I went to work pell-mell, blotted several sheets of paper with +choice floating thoughts, and battles, and descriptions, to be ready at a +moment’s warning. In a few days’ time I sketched out the skeleton of my poem, +and nothing was wanting but to give it flesh and blood. I used to take my +manuscript and stroll about Caen Wood, and read aloud; and would dine at the +castle, by way of keeping up the vein of thought. +</p> + +<p> +I was taking a meal there, one day, at a rather late hour, in the public room. +There was no other company but one man, who sat enjoying his pint of port at a +window, and noticing the passers-by. He was dressed in a green shooting coat. +His countenance was strongly marked. He had a hooked nose, a romantic eye, +excepting that it had something of a squint; and altogether, as I thought, a +poetical style of head. I was quite taken with the man, for you must know I am +a little of a physiognomist: I set him down at once for either a poet or a +philosopher. +</p> + +<p> +As I like to make new acquaintances, considering every man a volume of human +nature, I soon fell into conversation with the stranger, who, I was pleased to +find, was by no means difficult of access. After I had dined, I joined him at +the window, and we became so sociable that I proposed a bottle of wine +together; to which he most cheerfully assented. +</p> + +<p> +I was too full of my poem to keep long quiet on the subject, and began to talk +about the origin of the tavern, and the history of Jack Straw. I found my new +acquaintance to be perfectly at home on the topic, and to jump exactly with my +humor in every respect. I became elevated by the wine and the conversation. In +the fullness of an author’s feelings, I told him of my projected poem, and +repeated some passages; and he was in raptures. He was evidently of a strong +poetical turn. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said he, filling my glass at the same time, “our poets don’t look at +home. I don’t see why we need go out of old England for robbers and rebels to +write about. I like your Jack Straw, sir. He’s a home-made hero. I like him, +sir. I like him exceedingly. He’s English to the back bone, damme. Give me +honest old England, after all; them’s my sentiments, sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“I honor your sentiments,” cried I zealously. “They are exactly my own. An +English ruffian for poetry is as good a ruffian for poetry as any in Italy or +Germany, or the Archipelago; but it is hard to make our poets think so.” +</p> + +<p> +“More shame for them!” replied the man in green. “What a plague would they +have?” What have we to do with their Archipelagos of Italy and Germany? Haven’t +we heaths and commons and high-ways on our own little island? Aye, and stout +fellows to pad the hoof over them too? Come, sir, my service to you—I agree +with you perfectly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poets in old times had right notions on this subject,” continued I; “witness +the fine old ballads about Robin Hood, Allen A’Dale, and other staunch blades +of yore.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right, sir, right,” interrupted he. “Robin Hood! He was the lad to cry stand! +to a man, and never flinch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, sir,” said I, “they had famous bands of robbers in the good old times. +Those were glorious poetical days. The merry crew of Sherwood Forest, who led +such a roving picturesque life, ‘under the greenwood tree.’ I have often wished +to visit their haunts, and tread the scenes of the exploits of Friar Tuck, and +Clym of the Clough, and Sir William of Coudeslie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, sir,” said the gentleman in green, “we have had several very pretty gangs +since their day. Those gallant dogs that kept about the great heaths in the +neighborhood of London; about Bagshot, and Hounslow, and Black Heath, for +instance—come, sir, my service to you. You don’t drink.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” said I, emptying my glass—“I suppose you have heard of the famous +Turpin, who was born in this very village of Hempstead, and who used to lurk +with his gang in Epping Forest, about a hundred years since.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have I?” cried he—“to be sure I have! A hearty old blade that; sound as pitch. +Old Turpentine!—as we used to call him. A famous fine fellow, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” continued I, “I have visited Waltham Abbey, and Chinkford Church, +merely from the stories I heard, when a boy, of his exploits there, and I have +searched Epping Forest for the cavern where he used to conceal himself. You +must know,” added I, “that I am a sort of amateur of highwaymen. They were +dashing, daring fellows; the last apologies that we had for the knight errants +of yore. Ah, sir! the country has been sinking gradually into tameness and +commonplace. We are losing the old English spirit. The bold knights of the post +have all dwindled down into lurking footpads and sneaking pick-pockets. There’s +no such thing as a dashing gentlemanlike robbery committed now-a-days on the +king’s highway. A man may roll from one end of England to the other in a drowsy +coach or jingling post-chaise without any other adventure than that of being +occasionally overturned, sleeping in damp sheets, or having an ill-cooked +dinner. +</p> + +<p> +“We hear no more of public coaches being stopped and robbed by a well-mounted +gang of resolute fellows with pistols in their hands and crapes over their +faces. What a pretty poetical incident was it for example in domestic life, for +a family carriage, on its way to a country seat, to be attacked about dusk; the +old gentleman eased of his purse and watch, the ladies of their necklaces and +ear-rings, by a politely-spoken highwayman on a blood mare, who afterwards +leaped the hedge and galloped across the country, to the admiration of Miss +Carolina the daughter, who would write a long and romantic account of The +adventure to her friend Miss Juliana in town. Ah, sir! we meet with nothing of +such incidents now-a-days.” +</p> + +<p> +“That, sir,”—said my companion, taking advantage of a pause, when I stopped to +recover breath and to take a glass of wine, which he had just poured out—“that, +sir, craving your pardon, is not owing to any want of old English pluck. It is +the effect of this cursed system of banking. People do not travel with bags of +gold as they did formerly. They have post notes and drafts on bankers. To rob a +coach is like catching a crow; where you have nothing but carrion flesh and +feathers for your pains. But a coach in old times, sir, was as rich as a +Spanish galleon. It turned out the yellow boys bravely; and a private carriage +was a cool hundred or two at least.” +</p> + +<p> +I cannot express how much I was delighted with the sallies of my new +acquaintance. He told me that he often frequented the castle, and would be glad +to know more of me; and I promised myself many a pleasant afternoon with him, +when I should read him my poem, as it proceeded, and benefit by his remarks; +for it was evident he had the true poetical feeling. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, sir!” said he, pushing the bottle, “Damme, I like you!—You’re a man +after my own heart; I’m cursed slow in making new acquaintances in general. One +must stand on the reserve, you know. But when I meet with a man of your kidney, +damme my heart jumps at once to him. Them’s my sentiments, sir. Come, sir, +here’s Jack Straw’s health! I presume one can drink it now-a-days without +treason!” +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart,” said I gayly, “and Dick Turpin’s into the bargain!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, sir,” said the man in green, “those are the kind of men for poetry. The +Newgate kalendar, sir! the Newgate kalendar is your only reading! There’s the +place to look for bold deeds and dashing fellows.” +</p> + +<p> +We were so much pleased with each other that we sat until a late hour. I +insisted on paying the bill, for both my purse and my heart were full; and I +agreed that he should pay the score at our next meeting. As the coaches had all +gone that run between Hempstead and London he had to return on foot, He was so +delighted with the idea of my poem that he could talk of nothing else. He made +me repeat such passages as I could remember, and though I did it in a very +mangled manner, having a wretched memory, yet he was in raptures. +</p> + +<p> +Every now and then he would break out with some scrap which he would Misquote +most terribly, but would rub his hands and exclaim, “By Jupiter, that’s fine! +that’s noble! Damme, sir, if I can conceive how you hit upon such ideas!” +</p> + +<p> +I must confess I did not always relish his misquotations, which sometimes made +absolute nonsense of the passages; but what author stands upon trifles when he +is praised? Never had I spent a more delightful evening. I did not perceive how +the time flew. I could not bear to separate, but continued walking on, arm in +arm with him past my lodgings, through Camden town, and across Crackscull +Common, talking the whole way about my poem. +</p> + +<p> +When we were half-way across the common he interrupted me in the midst of a +quotation by telling me that this had been a famous place for footpads, and was +still occasionally infested by them; and that a man had recently been shot +there in attempting to defend himself. +</p> + +<p> +“The more fool he!” cried I. “A man is an idiot to risk life, or even limb, to +save a paltry purse of money. It’s quite a different case from that of a duel, +where one’s honor is concerned. For my part,” added I, “I should never think of +making resistance against one of those desperadoes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Say you so?” cried my friend in green, turning suddenly upon me, and putting a +pistol to my breast, “Why, then have at you, my lad!—come, disburse! empty! +unsack!” +</p> + +<p> +In a word, I found that the muse had played me another of her tricks, and had +betrayed me into the hands of a footpad. There was no time to parley; he made +me turn my pockets inside out; and hearing the sound of distant footsteps, he +made one fell swoop upon purse, watch, and all, gave me a thwack over my +unlucky pate that laid me sprawling on the ground; and scampered away with his +booty. +</p> + +<p> +I saw no more of my friend in green until a year or two afterwards; when I +caught a sight of his poetical countenance among a crew of scapegraces, heavily +ironed, who were on the way for transportation. He recognized me at once, +tipped me an impudent wink, and asked me how I came on with the history of Jack +Straw’s castle. +</p> + +<p> +The catastrophe at Crackscull Common put an end to my summer’s campaign. I was +cured of my poetical enthusiasm for rebels, robbers, and highwaymen. I was put +out of conceit of my subject, and what was worse, I was lightened of my purse, +in which was almost every farthing I had in the world. So I abandoned Sir +Richard Steele’s cottage in despair, and crept into less celebrated, though no +less poetical and airy lodgings in a garret in town. +</p> + +<p> +I see you are growing weary, so I will not detain you with any more of my +luckless attempts to get astride of Pegasus. Still I could not consent to give +up the trial and abandon those dreams of renown in which I had indulged. How +should I ever be able to look the literary circle of my native village in the +face, if I were so completely to falsify their predictions. For some time +longer, therefore, I continued to write for fame, and of course was the most +miserable dog in existence, besides being in continual risk of starvation. +</p> + +<p> +I have many a time strolled sorrowfully along, with a sad heart and an empty +stomach, about five o’clock, and looked wistfully down the areas in the west +end of the town; and seen through the kitchen windows the fires gleaming, and +the joints of meat turning on the spits and dripping with gravy; and the cook +maids beating up puddings, or trussing turkeys, and have felt for the moment +that if I could but have the run of one of those kitchens, Apollo and the muses +might have the hungry heights of Parnassus for me. Oh, sir! talk of meditations +among the tombs—they are nothing so melancholy as the meditations of a poor +devil without penny in pouch, along a line of kitchen windows towards +dinner-time. +</p> + +<p> +At length, when almost reduced to famine and despair, the idea all at once +entered my head, that perhaps I was not so clever a fellow as the village and +myself had supposed. It was the salvation of me. The moment the idea popped +into my brain, it brought conviction and comfort with it. I awoke as from a +dream. I gave up immortal fame to those who could live on air; took to writing +for mere bread, and have ever since led a very tolerable life of it. There is +no man of letters so much at his ease, sir, as he that has no character to gain +or lose. I had to train myself to it a little, however, and to clip my wings +short at first, or they would have carried me up into poetry in spite of +myself. So I determined to begin by the opposite extreme, and abandoning the +higher regions of the craft, I came plump down to the lowest, and turned +creeper. +</p> + +<p> +“Creeper,” interrupted I, “and pray what is that?” Oh, sir! I see you are +ignorant of the language of the craft; a creeper is one who furnishes the +newspapers with paragraphs at so much a line, one that goes about in quest of +misfortunes; attends the Bow-street office; the courts of justice and every +other den of mischief and iniquity. We are paid at the rate of a penny a line, +and as we can sell the same paragraph to almost every paper, we sometimes pick +up a very decent day’s work. Now and then the muse is unkind, or the day +uncommonly quiet, and then we rather starve; and sometimes the unconscionable +editors will clip our paragraphs when they are a little too rhetorical, and +snip off twopence or threepence at a go. I have many a time had my pot of +porter snipped off of my dinner in this way; and have had to dine with dry +lips. However, I cannot complain. I rose gradually in the lower ranks of the +craft, and am now, I think, in the most comfortable region of literature. +</p> + +<p> +“And pray,” said I, “what may you be at present!” “At present,” said he, “I am +a regular job writer, and turn my hand to anything. I work up the writings of +others at so much a sheet; turn off translations; write second-rate articles to +fill up reviews and magazines; compile travels and voyages, and furnish +theatrical criticisms for the newspapers. All this authorship, you perceive, is +anonymous; it gives no reputation, except among the trade, where I am +considered an author of all work, and am always sure of employ. That’s the only +reputation I want. I sleep soundly, without dread of duns or critics, and leave +immortal fame to those that choose to fret and fight about it. Take my word for +it, the only happy author in this world is he who is below the care of +reputation.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +The preceding anecdotes of Buckthorne’s early schoolmate, and a variety of +peculiarities which I had remarked in himself, gave me a strong curiosity to +know something of his own history. There was a dash of careless good humor +about him that pleased me exceedingly, and at times a whimsical tinge of +melancholy ran through his humor that gave it an additional relish. He had +evidently been a little chilled and buffeted by fortune, without being soured +thereby, as some fruits become mellower and sweeter, from having been bruised +or frost-bitten. He smiled when I expressed my desire. “I have no great story,” +said he, “to relate. A mere tissue of errors and follies. But, such as it is, +you shall have one epoch of it, by which you may judge of the rest.” And so, +without any farther prelude, he gave me the following anecdotes of his early +adventures. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap13"></a>BUCKTHORNE, OR THE YOUNG MAN OF GREAT +EXPECTATIONS</h3> + +<p> +I was born to very little property, but to great expectations; which is perhaps +one of the most unlucky fortunes that a man can be born to. My father was a +country gentleman, the last of a very ancient and honorable, but decayed +family, and resided in an old hunting lodge in Warwickshire. He was a keen +sportsman and lived to the extent of his moderate income, so that I had little +to expect from that quarter; but then I had a rich uncle by the mother’s side, +a penurious, accumulating curmudgeon, who it was confidently expected would +make me his heir; because he was an old bachelor; because I was named after +him, and because he hated all the world except myself. +</p> + +<p> +He was, in fact, an inveterate hater, a miser even in misanthropy, and hoarded +up a grudge as he did a guinea. Thus, though my mother was an only sister, he +had never forgiven her marriage with my father, against whom he had a cold, +still, immovable pique, which had lain at the bottom of his heart, like a stone +in a well, ever since they had been school boys together. My mother, however, +considered me as the intermediate being that was to bring every thing again +into harmony, for she looked upon me as a prodigy—God bless her. My heart +overflows whenever I recall her tenderness: she was the most excellent, the +most indulgent of mothers. I was her only child; it was a pity she had no more, +for she had fondness of heart enough to have spoiled a dozen! +</p> + +<p> +I was sent, at an early age, to a public school, sorely against my mother’s +wishes, but my father insisted that it was the only way to make boys hardy. The +school was kept by a conscientious prig of the ancient system, who did his duty +by the boys intrusted to his care; that is to say, we were flogged soundly when +we did not get our lessons. We were put into classes and thus flogged on in +droves along the highways of knowledge, in the same manner as cattle are driven +to market, where those that are heavy in gait or short in leg have to suffer +for the superior alertness or longer limbs of their companions. +</p> + +<p> +For my part, I confess it with shame, I was an incorrigible laggard. I have +always had the poetical feeling, that is to say, I have always been an idle +fellow and prone to play the vagabond. I used to get away from my books and +school whenever I could, and ramble about the fields. I was surrounded by +seductions for such a temperament. The school-house was an old-fashioned, +white-washed mansion of wood and plaister, standing on the skirts of a +beautiful village. Close by it was the venerable church with a tall Gothic +spire. Before it spread a lovely green valley, with a little stream glistening +along through willow groves; while a line of blue hills that bounded the +landscape gave rise to many a summer day dream as to the fairy land that lay +beyond. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of all the scourgings I suffered at that school to make me love my +book, I cannot but look back upon the place with fondness. Indeed, I considered +this frequent flagellation as the common lot of humanity, and the regular mode +in which scholars were made. My kind mother used to lament over my details of +the sore trials I underwent in the cause of learning; but my father turned a +deaf ear to her expostulations. He had been flogged through school himself, and +swore there was no other way of making a man of parts; though, let me speak it +with all due reverence, my father was but an indifferent illustration of his +own theory, for he was considered a grievous blockhead. +</p> + +<p> +My poetical temperament evinced itself at a very early period. The Village +church was attended every Sunday by a neighboring squire—the lord of the manor, +whose park stretched quite to the village, and whose spacious country seat +seemed to take the church under its protection. Indeed, you would have thought +the church had been consecrated to him instead of to the Deity. The parish +clerk bowed low before him, and the vergers humbled themselves into the dust in +his presence. He always entered a little late and with some stir, striking his +cane emphatically on the ground; swaying his hat in his hand, and looking +loftily to the right and left, as he walked slowly up the aisle, and the +parson, who always ate his Sunday dinner with him, never commenced service +until he appeared. He sat with his family in a large pew gorgeously lined, +humbling himself devoutly on velvet cushions, and reading lessons of meekness +and lowliness of spirit out of splendid gold and morocco prayer-books. Whenever +the parson spoke of the difficulty of the rich man’s entering the kingdom of +heaven, the eyes of the congregation would turn towards the “grand pew,” and I +thought the squire seemed pleased with the application. +</p> + +<p> +The pomp of this pew and the aristocratical air of the family struck My +imagination wonderfully, and I fell desperately in love with a little daughter +of the squire’s about twelve years of age. This freak of fancy made me more +truant from my studies than ever. I used to stroll about the squire’s park, and +would lurk near the house to catch glimpses of this little damsel at the +windows, or playing about the lawns, or walking out with her governess. +</p> + +<p> +I had not enterprise or impudence enough to venture from my concealment; +indeed, I felt like an arrant poacher, until I read one or two of Ovid’s +Metamorphoses, when I pictured myself as some sylvan deity, and she a coy wood +nymph of whom I was in pursuit. There is something extremely delicious in these +early awakenings of the tender passion. I can feel, even at this moment, the +thrilling of my boyish bosom, whenever by chance I caught a glimpse of her +white frock fluttering among the shrubbery. I now began to read poetry. I +carried about in my bosom a volume of Waller, which I had purloined from my +mother’s library; and I applied to my little fair one all the compliments +lavished upon Sacharissa. +</p> + +<p> +At length I danced with her at a school ball. I was so awkward a booby, that I +dared scarcely speak to her; I was filled with awe and embarrassment in her +presence; but I was so inspired that my poetical temperament for the first time +broke out in verse; and I fabricated some glowing lines, in which I be-rhymed +the little lady under the favorite name of Sacharissa. I slipped the verses, +trembling and blushing, into her hand the next Sunday as she came out of +church. The little prude handed them to her mamma; the mamma handed them to the +squire, the squire, who had no soul for poetry, sent them in dudgeon to the +school-master; and the school-master, with a barbarity worthy of the dark ages, +gave me a sound and peculiarly humiliating flogging for thus trespassing upon +Parnassus. +</p> + +<p> +This was a sad outset for a votary of the muse. It ought to have cured me of my +passion for poetry; but it only confirmed it, for I felt the spirit of a martyr +rising within me. What was as well, perhaps, it cured me of my passion for the +young lady; for I felt so indignant at the ignominious horsing I had incurred +in celebrating her charms, that I could not hold up my head in church. +</p> + +<p> +Fortunately for my wounded sensibility, the midsummer holydays came on, and I +returned home. My mother, as usual, inquired into all my school concerns, my +little pleasures, and cares, and sorrows; for boyhood has its share of the one +as well as of the others. I told her all, and she was indignant at the +treatment I had experienced. She fired up at the arrogance of the squire, and +the prudery of the daughter; and as to the school-master, she wondered where +was the use of having school-masters, and why boys could not remain at home and +be educated by tutors, under the eye of their mothers. She asked to see the +verses I had written, and she was delighted with them; for to confess the +truth, she had a pretty taste in poetry. She even showed to them to the +parson’s wife, who protested they were charming, and the parson’s three +daughters insisted on each having a copy of them. +</p> + +<p> +All this was exceedingly balsamic, and I was still more consoled and +encouraged, when the young ladies, who were the blue-stockings of the +neighborhood, and had read Dr. Johnson’s lives quite through, assured my mother +that great geniuses never studied, but were always idle; upon which I began to +surmise that I was myself something out of the common run. My father, however, +was of a very different opinion, for when my mother, in the pride of her heart, +showed him my copy of verses, he threw them out of the window, asking her “if +she meant to make a ballad monger of the boy.” But he was a careless, +common-thinking man, and I cannot say that I ever loved him much; my mother +absorbed all my filial affection. +</p> + +<p> +I used occasionally, during holydays, to be sent on short visits to the uncle, +who was to make me his heir; they thought it would keep me in his mind, and +render him fond of me. He was a withered, anxious-looking old fellow, and lived +in a desolate old country seat, which he suffered to go to ruin from absolute +niggardliness. He kept but one man-servant, who had lived, or rather starved, +with him for years. No woman was allowed to sleep in the house. A daughter of +the old servant lived by the gate, in what had been a porter’s lodge, and was +permitted to come into the house about an hour each day, to make the beds, and +cook a morsel of provisions. +</p> + +<p> +The park that surrounded the house was all run wild; the trees grown out of +shape; the fish-ponds stagnant; the urns and statues fallen from their +pedestals and buried among the rank grass. The hares and pheasants were so +little molested, except by poachers, that they bred in great abundance, and +sported about the rough lawns and weedy avenues. To guard the premises and +frighten off robbers, of whom he was somewhat apprehensive, and visitors, whom +he held in almost equal awe, my uncle kept two or three blood-hounds, who were +always prowling round the house, and were the dread of the neighboring +peasantry. They were gaunt and half-starved, seemed ready to devour one from +mere hunger, and were an effectual check on any stranger’s approach to this +wizard castle. +</p> + +<p> +Such was my uncle’s house, which I used to visit now and then during The +holydays. I was, as I have before said, the old man’s favorite; that is to say, +he did not hate me so much as he did the rest of the world. I had been apprised +of his character, and cautioned to cultivate his good-will; but I was too young +and careless to be a courtier; and indeed have never been sufficiently studious +of my interests to let them govern my feelings. However, we seemed to jog on +very well together; and as my visits cost him almost nothing, they did not seem +to be very unwelcome. I brought with me my gun and fishing-rod, and half +supplied the table from the park and the fishponds. +</p> + +<p> +Our meals were solitary and unsocial. My uncle rarely spoke; he pointed for +whatever he wanted, and the servant perfectly understood him. Indeed, his man +John, or Iron John, as he was called in the neighborhood, was a counterpart of +his master. He was a tall, bony old fellow, with a dry wig that seemed made of +cow’s tail, and a face as tough as though it had been made of bull’s hide. He +was generally clad in a long, patched livery coat, taken out of the wardrobe of +the house; and which bagged loosely about him, having evidently belonged to +some corpulent predecessor, in the more plenteous days of the mansion. From +long habits of taciturnity, the hinges of his jaws seemed to have grown +absolutely rusty, and it cost him as much effort to set them ajar, and to let +out a tolerable sentence, as it would have done to set open the iron gates of a +park, and let out the family carriage that was dropping to pieces in the +coach-house. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot say, however, but that I was for some time amused with my uncle’s +peculiarities. Even the very desolateness of the establishment had something in +it that hit my fancy. When the weather was fine I used to amuse myself, in a +solitary way, by rambling about the park, and coursing like a colt across its +lawns. The hares and pheasants seemed to stare with surprise, to see a human +being walking these forbidden grounds by day-light. Sometimes I amused myself +by jerking stones, or shooting at birds with a bow and arrows; for to have used +a gun would have been treason. Now and then my path was crossed by a little +red-headed, ragged-tailed urchin, the son of the woman at the lodge, who ran +wild about the premises. I tried to draw him into familiarity, and to make a +companion of him; but he seemed to have imbibed the strange, unsocial character +of every thing around him; and always kept aloof; so I considered him as +another Orson, and amused myself with shooting at him with my bow and arrows, +and he would hold up his breeches with one hand, and scamper away like a deer. +</p> + +<p> +There was something in all this loneliness and wildness strangely pleasing to +me. The great stables, empty and weather-broken, with the names of favorite +horses over the vacant stalls; the windows bricked and boarded up; the broken +roofs, garrisoned by rooks and jackdaws; all had a singularly forlorn +appearance: one would have concluded the house to be totally uninhabited, were +it not for a little thread of blue smoke, which now and then curled up like a +corkscrew, from the centre of one of the wide chimneys, when my uncle’s +starveling meal was cooking. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle’s room was in a remote corner of the building, strongly secured and +generally locked. I was never admitted into this strong-hold, where the old man +would remain for the greater part of the time, drawn up like a veteran spider +in the citadel of his web. The rest of the mansion, however, was open to me, +and I sauntered about it unconstrained. The damp and rain which beat in through +the broken windows, crumbled the paper from the walls; mouldered the pictures, +and gradually destroyed the furniture. I loved to rove about the wide, waste +chambers in bad weather, and listen to the howling of the wind, and the banging +about of the doors and window-shutters. I pleased myself with the idea how +completely, when I came to the estate, I would renovate all things, and make +the old building ring with merriment, till it was astonished at its own +jocundity. +</p> + +<p> +The chamber which I occupied on these visits was the same that had been my +mother’s, when a girl. There was still the toilet-table of her own adorning; +the landscapes of her own drawing. She had never seen it since her marriage, +but would often ask me if every thing was still the same. All was just the +same; for I loved that chamber on her account, and had taken pains to put every +thing in order, and to mend all the flaws in the windows with my own hands. I +anticipated the time when I should once more welcome her to the house of her +fathers, and restore her to this little nestling-place of her childhood. +</p> + +<p> +At length my evil genius, or, what perhaps is the same thing, the muse, +inspired me with the notion of rhyming again. My uncle, who never went to +church, used on Sundays to read chapters out of the Bible; and Iron John, the +woman from the lodge, and myself, were his congregation. It seemed to be all +one to him what he read, so long as it was something from the Bible: sometimes, +therefore, it would be the Song of Solomon; and this withered anatomy would +read about being “stayed with flagons and comforted with apples, for he was +sick of love.” Sometimes he would hobble, with spectacle on nose, through whole +chapters of hard Hebrew names in Deuteronomy; at which the poor woman would +sigh and groan as if wonderfully moved. His favorite book, however, was “The +Pilgrim’s Progress;” and when he came to that part which treats of Doubting +Castle and Giant Despair, I thought invariably of him and his desolate old +country seat. So much did the idea amuse me, that I took to scribbling about it +under the trees in the park; and in a few days had made some progress in a +poem, in which I had given a description of the place, under the name of +Doubting Castle, and personified my uncle as Giant Despair. +</p> + +<p> +I lost my poem somewhere about the house, and I soon suspected that my uncle +had found it; as he harshly intimated to me that I could return home, and that +I need not come and see him again until he should send for me. +</p> + +<p> +Just about this time my mother died.—I cannot dwell upon this circumstance; my +heart, careless and wayworn as it is, gushes with the recollection. Her death +was an event that perhaps gave a turn to all my after fortunes. With her died +all that made home attractive, for my father was harsh, as I have before said, +and had never treated me with kindness. Not that he exerted any unusual +severity towards me, but it was his way. I do not complain of him. In fact, I +have never been of a complaining disposition. I seem born to be buffeted by +friends and fortune, and nature has made me a careless endurer of buffetings. +</p> + +<p> +I now, however, began to grow very impatient of remaining at school, to be +flogged for things that I did not like. I longed for variety, especially now +that I had not my uncle’s to resort to, by way of diversifying the dullness of +school with the dreariness of his country seat. I was now turned of sixteen; +tall for my age, and full of idle fancies. I had a roving, inextinguishable +desire to see different kinds of life, and different orders of society; and +this vagrant humor had been fostered in me by Tom Dribble, the prime wag and +great genius of the school, who had all the rambling propensities of a poet. +</p> + +<p> +I used to set at my desk in the school, on a fine summer’s day, and instead of +studying the book which lay open before me, my eye was gazing through the +window on the green fields and blue hills. How I envied the happy groups seated +on the tops of stage-coaches, chatting, and joking, and laughing, as they were +whirled by the school-house, on their way to the metropolis. Even the wagoners +trudging along beside their ponderous teams, and traversing the kingdom, from +one end to the other, were objects of envy to me. I fancied to myself what +adventures they must experience, and what odd scenes of life they must witness. +All this was doubtless the poetical temperament working within me, and tempting +me forth into a world of its own creation, which I mistook for the world of +real life. +</p> + +<p> +While my mother lived, this strange propensity to roam was counteracted by the +stronger attractions of home, and by the powerful ties of affection, which drew +me to her side; but now that she was gone, the attractions had ceased; the ties +were severed. I had no longer an anchorage ground for my heart; but was at the +mercy of every vagrant impulse. Nothing but the narrow allowance on which my +father kept me, and the consequent penury of my purse, prevented me from +mounting the top of a stage-coach and launching myself adrift on the great +ocean of life. +</p> + +<p> +Just about this time the village was agitated for a day or two, by the passing +through of several caravans, containing wild beasts, and other spectacles for a +great fair annually held at a neighboring town. +</p> + +<p> +I had never seen a fair of any consequence, and my curiosity was Powerfully +awakened by this bustle of preparation. I gazed with respect and wonder at the +vagrant personages who accompanied these caravans. I loitered about the village +inn, listening with curiosity and delight to the slang talk and cant jokes of +the showmen and their followers; and I felt an eager desire to witness this +fair, which my fancy decked out as something wonderfully fine. +</p> + +<p> +A holyday afternoon presented, when I could be absent from the school from noon +until evening. A wagon was going from the village to the fair. I could not +resist the temptation, nor the eloquence of Tom Dribble, who was a truant to +the very heart’s core. We hired seats, and set off full of boyish expectation. +I promised myself that I would but take a peep at the land of promise, and +hasten back again before my absence should be noticed. +</p> + +<p> +Heavens! how happy I was on arriving at the fair! How I was enchanted with the +world of fun and pageantry around me! The humors of Punch; the feats of the +equestrians; the magical tricks of the conjurors! But what principally caught +my attention was—an itinerant theatre; where a tragedy, pantomime, and farce +were all acted in the course of half an hour, and more of the dramatis personae +murdered, than at either Drury Lane or Covent Garden in a whole evening. I have +since seen many a play performed by the best actors in the world, but never +have I derived half the delight from any that I did from this first +representation. +</p> + +<p> +There was a ferocious tyrant in a skull cap like an inverted porringer, and a +dress of red baize, magnificently embroidered with gilt leather; with his face +so be-whiskered and his eyebrows so knit and expanded with burnt cork, that he +made my heart quake within me as he stamped about the little stage. I was +enraptured too with the surpassing beauty of a distressed damsel, in faded pink +silk, and dirty white muslin, whom he held in cruel captivity by way of gaining +her affections; and who wept and wrung her hands and flourished a ragged pocket +handkerchief from the top of an impregnable tower, of the size of a band-box. +</p> + +<p> +Even after I had come out from the play, I could not tear myself from the +vicinity of the theatre; but lingered, gazing, and wondering, and laughing at +the dramatis personae, as they performed their antics, or danced upon a stage +in front of the booth, to decoy a new set of spectators. +</p> + +<p> +I was so bewildered by the scene, and so lost in the crowd of sensations that +kept swarming upon me that I was like one entranced. I lost my companion Tom +Dribble, in a tumult and scuffle that took place near one of the shows, but I +was too much occupied in mind to think long about him. I strolled about until +dark, when the fair was lighted up, and a new scene of magic opened upon me. +The illumination of the tents and booths; the brilliant effect of the stages +decorated with lamps, with dramatic groups flaunting about them in gaudy +dresses, contrasted splendidly with the surrounding darkness; while the uproar +of drums, trumpets, fiddles, hautboys, and cymbals, mingled with the harangues +of the showmen, the squeaking of Punch, and the shouts and laughter of the +crowd, all united to complete my giddy distraction. +</p> + +<p> +Time flew without my perceiving it. When I came to myself and thought of the +school, I hastened to return. I inquired for the wagon in which I had come: it +had been gone for hours. I asked the time: it was almost midnight! A sudden +quaking seized me. How was I to get back to school? I was too weary to make the +journey on foot, and I knew not where to apply for a conveyance. Even if I +should find one, could I venture to disturb the school-house long after +midnight? to arouse that sleeping lion, the usher, in the very midst of his +night’s rest? The idea was too dreadful for a delinquent school-boy. All the +horrors of return rushed upon me—my absence must long before this have been +remarked—and absent for a whole night? A deed of darkness not easily to be +expiated. The rod of the pedagogue budded forth into tenfold terrors before my +affrighted fancy. I pictured to myself punishment and humiliation in every +variety of form; and my heart sickened at the picture. Alas! how often are the +petty ills of boyhood as painful to our tender natures, as are the sterner +evils of manhood to our robuster minds. +</p> + +<p> +I wandered about among the booths, and I might have derived a lesson from my +actual feelings, how much the charms of this world depend upon ourselves; for I +no longer saw anything gay or delightful in the revelry around me. At length I +lay down, wearied and perplexed, behind one of the large tents, and covering +myself with the margin of the tent cloth to keep off the night chill, I soon +fell fast asleep. +</p> + +<p> +I had not slept long, when I was awakened by the noise of merriment within an +adjoining booth. It was the itinerant theatre, rudely constructed of boards and +canvas. I peeped through an aperture, and saw the whole dramatis personae, +tragedy, comedy, pantomime, all refreshing themselves after the final dismissal +of their auditors. They were merry and gamesome, and made their flimsy theatre +ring with laughter. I was astonished to see the tragedy tyrant in red baize and +fierce whiskers, who had made my heart quake as he strutted about the boards, +now transformed into a fat, good humored fellow; the beaming porringer laid +aside from his brow, and his jolly face washed from all the terrors of burnt +cork. I was delighted, too, to see the distressed damsel in faded silk and +dirty muslin, who had trembled under his tyranny, and afflicted me so much by +her sorrows, now seated familiarly on his knee, and quaffing from the same +tankard. Harlequin lay asleep on one of the benches; and monks, satyrs, and +Vestal virgins were grouped together, laughing outrageously at a broad story +told by an unhappy count, who had been barbarously murdered in the tragedy. +This was, indeed, novelty to me. It was a peep into another planet. I gazed and +listened with intense curiosity and enjoyment. They had a thousand odd stories +and jokes about the events of the day, and burlesque descriptions and +mimickings of the spectators who had been admiring them. Their conversation was +full of allusions to their adventures at different places, where they had +exhibited; the characters they had met with in different villages; and the +ludicrous difficulties in which they had occasionally been involved. All past +cares and troubles were now turned by these thoughtless beings into matter of +merriment; and made to contribute to the gayety of the moment. They had been +moving from fair to fair about the kingdom, and were the next morning to set +out on their way to London. +</p> + +<p> +My resolution was taken. I crept from my nest, and scrambled through a hedge +into a neighboring field, where I went to work to make a tatterdemalion of +myself. I tore my clothes; soiled them with dirt; begrimed my face and hands; +and, crawling near one of the booths, purloined an old hat, and left my new one +in its place. It was an honest theft, and I hope may not hereafter rise up in +judgment against me. +</p> + +<p> +I now ventured to the scene of merrymaking, and, presenting myself before the +dramatic corps, offered myself as a volunteer. I felt terribly agitated and +abashed, for “never before stood I in such a presence.” I had addressed myself +to the manager of the company. He was a fat man, dressed in dirty white; with a +red sash fringed with tinsel, swathed round his body. His face was smeared with +paint, and a majestic plume towered from an old spangled black bonnet. He was +the Jupiter tonans of this Olympus, and was surrounded by the interior gods and +goddesses of his court. He sat on the end of a bench, by a table, with one arm +akimbo and the other extended to the handle of a tankard, which he had slowly +set down from his lips as he surveyed me from head to foot. It was a moment of +awful scrutiny, and I fancied the groups around all watching us in silent +suspense, and waiting for the imperial nod. +</p> + +<p> +He questioned me as to who I was; what were my qualifications; and what terms I +expected. I passed myself off for a discharged servant from a gentleman’s +family; and as, happily, one does not require a special recommendation to get +admitted into bad company, the questions on that head were easily satisfied. As +to my accomplishments, I would spout a little poetry, and knew several scenes +of plays, which I had learnt at school exhibitions. I could dance—, that was +enough; no further questions were asked me as to accomplishments; it was the +very thing they wanted; and, as I asked no wages, but merely meat and drink, +and safe conduct about the world, a bargain was struck in a moment. +</p> + +<p> +Behold me, therefore transformed of a sudden from a gentleman student to a +dancing buffoon; for such, in fact, was the character in which I made my debut. +I was one of those who formed the groups in the dramas, and were principally, +employed on the stage in front of the booth, to attract company. I was equipped +as a satyr, in a dress of drab frize that fitted to my shape; with a great +laughing mask, ornamented with huge ears and short horns. I was pleased with +the disguise, because it kept me from the danger of being discovered, whilst we +were in that part of the country; and, as I had merely to dance and make +antics, the character was favorable to a debutant, being almost on a par with +Simon Snug’s part of the Lion, which required nothing but roaring. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot tell you how happy I was at this sudden change in my situation. I felt +no degradation, for I had seen too little of society to be thoughtful about the +differences of rank; and a boy of sixteen is seldom aristocratical. I had given +up no friend; for there seemed to be no one in the world that cared for me, now +my poor mother was dead. I had given up no pleasure; for my pleasure was to +ramble about and indulge the flow of a poetical imagination; and I now enjoyed +it in perfection. There is no life so truly poetical as that of a dancing +buffoon. +</p> + +<p> +It may be said that all this argued grovelling inclinations. I do not think so; +not that I mean to vindicate myself in any great degree; I know too well what a +whimsical compound I am. But in this instance I was seduced by no love of low +company, nor disposition to indulge in low vices. I have always despised the +brutally vulgar; and I have always had a disgust at vice, whether in high or +low life. I was governed merely by a sudden and thoughtless impulse. I had no +idea of resorting to this profession as a mode of life; or of attaching myself +to these people, as my future class of society. I thought merely of a temporary +gratification of my curiosity, and an indulgence of my humors. I had already a +strong relish for the peculiarities of character and the varieties of +situation, and I have always been fond of the comedy of life, and desirous of +seeing it through all its shifting scenes. +</p> + +<p> +In mingling, therefore, among mountebanks and buffoons I was protected by the +very vivacity of imagination which had led me among them. I moved about +enveloped, as it were, in a protecting delusion, which my fancy spread around +me. I assimilated to these people only as they struck me poetically; their +whimsical ways and a certain picturesqueness in their mode of life entertained +me; but I was neither amused nor corrupted by their vices. In short, I mingled +among them, as Prince Hal did among his graceless associates, merely to gratify +my humor. +</p> + +<p> +I did not investigate my motives in this manner, at the time, for I was too +careless and thoughtless to reason about the matter; but I do so now, when I +look back with trembling to think of the ordeal to which I unthinkingly exposed +myself, and the manner in which I passed through it. Nothing, I am convinced, +but the poetical temperament, that hurried me into the scrape, brought me out +of it without my becoming an arrant vagabond. +</p> + +<p> +Full of the enjoyment of the moment, giddy with the wildness of animal spirits, +so rapturous in a boy, I capered, I danced, I played a thousand fantastic +tricks about the stage, in the villages in which we exhibited; and I was +universally pronounced the most agreeable monster that had ever been seen in +those parts. My disappearance from school had awakened my father’s anxiety; for +I one day heard a description of myself cried before the very booth in which I +was exhibiting; with the offer of a reward for any intelligence of me. I had no +great scruple about letting my father suffer a little uneasiness on my account; +it would punish him for past indifference, and would make him value me the more +when he found me again. I have wondered that some of my comrades did not +recognize in me the stray sheep that was cried; but they were all, no doubt, +occupied by their own concerns. They were all laboring seriously in their antic +vocations, for folly was a mere trade with the most of them, and they often +grinned and capered with heavy hearts. With me, on the contrary, it was all +real. I acted <i>con amore</i>, and rattled and laughed from the irrepressible +gayety of my spirits. It is true that, now and then, I started and looked grave +on receiving a sudden thwack from the wooden sword of Harlequin, in the course +of my gambols; as it brought to mind the birch of my school-master. But I soon +got accustomed to it; and bore all the cuffing, and kicking, and tumbling +about, that form the practical wit of your itinerant pantomime, with a good +humor that made me a prodigious favorite. +</p> + +<p> +The country campaign of the troupe was soon at an end, and we set off for the +metropolis, to perform at the fairs which are held in its vicinity. The greater +part of our theatrical property was sent on direct, to be in a state of +preparation for the opening of the fairs; while a detachment of the company +travelled slowly on, foraging among the villages. I was amused with the +desultory, hap-hazard kind of life we led; here to-day, and gone to-morrow. +Sometimes revelling in ale-houses; sometimes feasting under hedges in the green +fields. When audiences were crowded and business profitable, we fared well, and +when otherwise, we fared scantily, and consoled ourselves with anticipations of +the next day’s success. +</p> + +<p> +At length the increasing frequency of coaches hurrying past us, covered with +passengers; the increasing number of carriages, carts, wagons, gigs, droves of +cattle and flocks of sheep, all thronging the road; the snug country boxes with +trim flower gardens twelve feet square, and their trees twelve feet high, all +powdered with dust; and the innumerable seminaries for young ladies and +gentlemen, situated along the road, for the benefit of country air and rural +retirement; all these insignia announced that the mighty London was at hand. +The hurry, and the crowd, and the bustle, and the noise, and the dust, +increased as we proceeded, until I saw the great cloud of smoke hanging in the +air, like a canopy of state, over this queen of cities. +</p> + +<p> +In this way, then, did I enter the metropolis; a strolling vagabond; on the top +of a caravan with a crew of vagabonds about me; but I was as happy as a prince, +for, like Prince Hal, I felt myself superior to my situation, and knew that I +could at any time cast it off and emerge into my proper sphere. +</p> + +<p> +How my eyes sparkled as we passed Hyde-park corner, and I saw splendid +equipages rolling by, with powdered footmen behind, in rich liveries, and fine +nosegays, and gold-headed canes; and with lovely women within, so sumptuously +dressed and so surpassingly fair. I was always extremely sensible to female +beauty; and here I saw it in all its fascination; for, whatever may be said of +“beauty unadorned,” there is something almost awful in female loveliness decked +out in jewelled state. The swan-like neck encircled with diamonds; the raven +locks, clustered with pearls; the ruby glowing on the snowy bosom, are objects +that I could never contemplate without emotion; and a dazzling white arm +clasped with bracelets, and taper transparent fingers laden with sparkling +rings, are to me irresistible. My very eyes ached as I gazed at the high and +courtly beauty that passed before me. It surpassed all that my imagination had +conceived of the sex. I shrunk, for a moment, into shame at the company in +which I was placed, and repined at the vast distance that seemed to intervene +between me and these magnificent beings. +</p> + +<p> +I forbear to give a detail of the happy life which I led about the skirts of +the metropolis, playing at the various fairs, held there during the latter part +of spring and the beginning of summer. This continual change from place to +place, and scene to scene, fed my imagination with novelties, and kept my +spirits in a perpetual state of excitement. +</p> + +<p> +As I was tall of my age I aspired, at one time, to play heroes in tragedy; but +after two or three trials, I was pronounced, by the manager, totally unfit for +the line; and our first tragic actress, who was a large woman, and held a small +hero in abhorrence, confirmed his decision. +</p> + +<p> +The fact is, I had attempted to give point to language which had no point, and +nature to scenes which had no nature. They said I did not fill out my +characters; and they were right. The characters had all been prepared for a +different sort of man. Our tragedy hero was a round, robustious fellow, with an +amazing voice; who stamped and slapped his breast until his wig shook again; +and who roared and bellowed out his bombast, until every phrase swelled upon +the ear like the sound of a kettle-drum. I might as well have attempted to fill +out his clothes as his characters. When we had a dialogue together, I was +nothing before him, with my slender voice and discriminating manner. I might as +well have attempted to parry a cudgel with a small sword. If he found me in any +way gaining ground upon him, he would take refuge in his mighty voice, and +throw his tones like peals of thunder at me, until they were drowned in the +still louder thunders of applause from the audience. +</p> + +<p> +To tell the truth, I suspect that I was not shown fair play, and that there was +management at the bottom; for without vanity, I think I was a better actor than +he. As I had not embarked in the vagabond line through ambition, I did not +repine at lack of preferment; but I was grieved to find that a vagrant life was +not without its cares and anxieties, and that jealousies, intrigues, and mad +ambition were to be found even among vagabonds. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, as I become more familiar with my situation, and the delusions of fancy +began to fade away, I discovered that my associates were not the happy careless +creatures I had at first imagined them. They were jealous of each other’s +talents; they quarrelled about parts, the same as the actors on the grand +theatres; they quarrelled about dresses; and there was one robe of yellow silk, +trimmed with red, and a head-dress of three rumpled ostrich feathers, which +were continually setting the ladies of the company by the ears. Even those who +had attained the highest honors were not more happy than the rest; for Mr. +Flimsey himself, our first tragedian, and apparently a jovial, good-humored +fellow, confessed to me one day, in the fullness of his heart, that he was a +miserable man. He had a brother-in-law, a relative by marriage, though not by +blood, who was manager of a theatre in a small country town. And this same +brother, (“a little more than kin, but less than kind,”) looked down upon him, +and treated him with contumely, because forsooth he was but a strolling player. +I tried to console him with the thoughts of the vast applause he daily +received, but it was all in vain. He declared that it gave him no delight, and +that he should never be a happy man until the name of Flimsey rivalled the name +of Crimp. +</p> + +<p> +How little do those before the scenes know of what passes behind; how little +can they judge, from the countenances of actors, of what is passing in their +hearts. I have known two lovers quarrel like cats behind the scenes, who were, +the moment after, ready to fly into each other’s embraces. And I have dreaded, +when our Belvidera was to take her farewell kiss of her Jaffier, lest she +should bite a piece out of his cheek. Our tragedian was a rough joker off the +stage; our prime clown the most peevish mortal living. The latter used to go +about snapping and snarling, with a broad laugh painted on his countenance; and +I can assure you that, whatever may be said of the gravity of a monkey, or the +melancholy of a gibed cat, there is no more melancholy creature in existence +than a mountebank off duty. +</p> + +<p> +The only thing in which all parties agreed was to backbite the manager, and +cabal against his regulations. This, however, I have since discovered to be a +common trait of human nature, and to take place in all communities. It would +seem to be the main business of man to repine at government. In all situations +of life into which I have looked, I have found mankind divided into two grand +parties;—those who ride and those who are ridden. The great struggle of life +seems to be which shall keep in the saddle. This, it appears to me, is the +fundamental principle of politics, whether in great or little life. However, I +do not mean to moralize; but one cannot always sink the philosopher. +</p> + +<p> +Well, then, to return to myself. It was determined, as I said, that I was not +fit for tragedy, and unluckily, as my study was bad, having a very poor memory, +I was pronounced unfit for comedy also: besides, the line of young gentlemen +was already engrossed by an actor with whom I could not pretend to enter into +competition, he having filled it for almost half a century. I came down again +therefore to pantomime. In consequence, however, of the good offices of the +manager’s lady, who had taken a liking to me, I was promoted from the part of +the satyr to that of the lover; and with my face patched and painted, a huge +cravat of paper, a steeple-crowned hat, and dangling, long-skirted, sky-blue +coat, was metamorphosed into the lover of Columbine. My part did not call for +much of the tender and sentimental. I had merely to pursue the fugitive fair +one; to have a door now and then slammed in my face; to run my head +occasionally against a post; to tumble and roll about with Pantaloon and the +clown; and to endure the hearty thwacks of Harlequin’s wooden sword. +</p> + +<p> +As ill luck would have it, my poetical temperament began to ferment within me, +and to work out new troubles. The inflammatory air of a great metropolis added +to the rural scenes in which the fairs were held; such as Greenwich Park; +Epping Forest; and the lovely valley of the West End, had a powerful effect +upon me. While in Greenwich Park I was witness to the old holiday games of +running down hill; and kissing in the ring; and then the firmament of blooming +faces and blue eyes that would be turned towards me as I was playing antics on +the stage; all these set my young blood, and my poetical vein, in full flow. In +short, I played my character to the life, and became desperately enamored of +Columbine. She was a trim, well-made, tempting girl, with a rougish, dimpling +face, and fine chestnut hair clustering all about it. The moment I got fairly +smitten, there was an end to all playing. I was such a creature of fancy and +feeling that I could not put on a pretended, when I was powerfully affected by +a real emotion. I could not sport with a fiction that came so near to the fact. +I became too natural in my acting to succeed. And then, what a situation for a +lover! I was a mere stripling, and she played with my passion; for girls soon +grow more adroit and knowing in these than your awkward youngsters. What +agonies had I to suffer. Every time that she danced in front of the booth and +made such liberal displays of her charms, I was in torment. To complete my +misery, I had a real rival in Harlequin; an active, vigorous, knowing varlet of +six-and-twenty. What had a raw, inexperienced youngster like me to hope from +such a competition? +</p> + +<p> +I had still, however, some advantages in my favor. In spite of my change of +life, I retained that indescribable something which always distinguishes the +gentleman; that something which dwells in a man’s air and deportment, and not +in his clothes; and which it is as difficult for a gentleman to put off as for +a vulgar fellow to put on. The company generally felt it, and used to call me +little gentleman Jack. The girl felt it too; and in spite of her predilection +for my powerful rival, she liked to flirt with me. This only aggravated my +troubles, by increasing my passion, and awakening the jealousy of her +parti-colored lover. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! think what I suffered, at being obliged to keep up an ineffectual chase +after my Columbine through whole pantomimes; to see her carried off in the +vigorous arms of the happy Harlequin; and to be obliged, instead of snatching +her from him, to tumble sprawling with Pantaloon and the clown; and bear the +infernal and degrading thwacks of my rival’s weapon of lath; which, may heaven +confound him! (excuse my passion) the villain laid on with a malicious +good-will; nay, I could absolutely hear him chuckle and laugh beneath his +accursed mask—I beg pardon for growing a little warm in my narration. I wish to +be cool, but these recollections will sometimes agitate me. I have heard and +read of many desperate and deplorable situations of lovers; but none, I think, +in which true love was ever exposed to so severe and peculiar a trial. +</p> + +<p> +This could not last long. Flesh and blood, at least such flesh and blood as +mine, could not bear it. I had repeated heartburnings and quarrels with my +rival, in which he treated me with the mortifying forbearance of a man towards +a child. Had he quarrelled outright with me, I could have stomached it; at +least I should have known what part to take; but to be humored and treated as a +child in the presence of my mistress, when I felt all the bantam spirit of a +little man swelling within me—gods, it was insufferable! +</p> + +<p> +At length we were exhibiting one day at West End fair, which was at that time a +very fashionable resort, and often beleaguered by gay equipages from town. +Among the spectators that filled the front row of our little canvas theatre one +afternoon, when I had to figure in a pantomime, was a party of young ladies +from a boarding-school, with their governess. Guess my confusion, when, in the +midst of my antics, I beheld among the number my quondam flame; her whom I had +be-rhymed at school; her for whose charms I had smarted so severely; tho cruel +Sacharissa! What was worse, I fancied she recollected me; and was repeating the +story of my humiliating flagellation, for I saw her whispering her companions +and her governess. I lost all consciousness of the part I was acting, and of +the place where I was. I felt shrunk to nothing, and could have crept into a +rat-hole—unluckily, none was open to receive me. Before I could recover from my +confusion, I was tumbled over by Pantaloon and the clown; and I felt the sword +of Harlequin making vigorous assaults, in a manner most degrading to my +dignity. +</p> + +<p> +Heaven and earth! was I again to suffer martyrdom in this ignominious manner, +in the knowledge, and even before the very eyes of this most beautiful, but +most disdainful of fair ones? All my long-smothered wrath broke out at once; +the dormant feelings of the gentleman arose within me; stung to the quick by +intolerable mortification, I sprang on my feet in an instant; leaped upon +Harlequin like a young tiger; tore off his mask; buffeted him in the face, and +soon shed more blood on the stage than had been spilt upon it during a whole +tragic campaign of battles and murders. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as Harlequin recovered from his surprise he returned my assault with +interest. I was nothing in his hands. I was game to be sure, for I was a +gentleman; but he had the clownish advantages of bone and muscle. I felt as if +I could have fought even unto the death; and I was likely to do so; for he was, +according to the vulgar phrase, “putting my head into Chancery,” when the +gentle Columbine flew to my assistance. God bless the women; they are always on +the side of the weak and the oppressed. +</p> + +<p> +The battle now became general; the dramatis personae ranged on either side. The +manager interfered in vain. In vain were his spangled black bonnet and towering +white feathers seen whisking about, and nodding, and bobbing, in the thickest +of the fight. Warriors, ladies, priests, satyrs, kings, queens, gods and +goddesses, all joined pell-mell in the fray. Never, since the conflict under +the walls of Troy, had there been such a chance medley warfare of combatants, +human and divine. The audience applauded, the ladies shrieked and fled from the +theatre, and a scene of discord ensued that baffles all description. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing but the interference of the peace officers restored some degree of +order. The havoc, however, that had been made among dresses and decorations put +an end to all farther acting for that day. The battle over, the next thing was +to inquire why it was begun; a common question among politicians, after a +bloody and unprofitable war; and one not always easy to be answered. It was +soon traced to me, and my unaccountable transport of passion, which they could +only attribute to my having run <i>a muck</i>. The manager was judge and jury, +and plaintiff in the bargain, and in such cases justice is always speedily +administered. He came out of the fight as sublime a wreck as the Santissìma +Trinidada. His gallant plumes, which once towered aloft, were drooping about +his ears. His robe of state hung in ribbands from his back, and but ill +concealed the ravages he had suffered in the rear. He had received kicks and +cuffs from all sides, during the tumult; for every one took the opportunity of +slyly gratifying some lurking grudge on his fat carcass. He was a discreet man, +and did not choose to declare war with all his company; so he swore all those +kicks and cuffs had been given by me, and I let him enjoy the opinion. Some +wounds he bore, however, which were the incontestible traces of a woman’s +warfare. His sleek rosy cheek was scored by trickling furrows, which were +ascribed to the nails of my intrepid and devoted Columbine. The ire of the +monarch was not to be appeased. He had suffered in his person, and he had +suffered in his purse; his dignity too had been insulted, and that went for +something; for dignity is always more irascible the more petty the potentate. +He wreaked his wrath upon the beginners of the affray, and Columbine and myself +were discharged, at once, from the company. +</p> + +<p> +Figure me, then, to yourself, a stripling of little more than sixteen; a +gentleman by birth; a vagabond by trade; turned adrift upon the world; making +the best of my way through the crowd of West End fair; my mountebank dress +fluttering in rags about me; the weeping Columbine hanging upon my arm, in +splendid, but tattered finery; the tears coursing one by one down her face; +carrying off the red paint in torrents, and literally “preying upon her damask +cheek.” +</p> + +<p> +The crowd made way for us as we passed and hooted in our rear. I felt the +ridicule of my situation, but had too much gallantry to desert this fair one, +who had sacrificed everything for me. Having wandered through the fair, we +emerged, like another Adam and Eve, into unknown regions, and “had the world +before us where to choose.” Never was a more disconsolate pair seen in the soft +valley of West End. The luckless Columbine cast back many a lingering look at +the fair, which seemed to put on a more than usual splendor; its tents, and +booths, and parti-colored groups, all brightening in the sunshine, and gleaming +among the trees; and its gay flags and streamers playing and fluttering in the +light summer airs. With a heavy sigh she would lean on my arm and proceed. I +had no hope or consolation to give her; but she had linked herself to my +fortunes, and she was too much of a woman to desert me. +</p> + +<p> +Pensive and silent, then, we traversed the beautiful fields that lie behind +Hempstead, and wandered on, until the fiddle, and the hautboy, and the shout, +and the laugh, were swallowed up in the deep sound of the big bass drum, and +even that died away into a distant rumble. We passed along the pleasant +sequestered walk of Nightingale lane. For a pair of lovers what scene could be +more propitious?—But such a pair of lovers! Not a nightingale sang to soothe +us: the very gypsies who were encamped there during the fair, made no offer to +tell the fortunes of such an ill-omened couple, whose fortunes, I suppose, they +thought too legibly written to need an interpreter; and the gypsey children +crawled into their cabins and peeped out fearfully at us as we went by. For a +moment I paused, and was almost tempted to turn gypsey, but the poetical +feeling for the present was fully satisfied, and I passed on. Thus we +travelled, and travelled, like a prince and princess in nursery chronicle, +until we had traversed a part of Hempstead Heath and arrived in the vicinity of +Jack Straw’s castle. +</p> + +<p> +Here, wearied and dispirited, we seated ourselves on the margin of the hill, +hard by the very mile-stone where Whittington of yore heard the Bow bells ring +out the presage of his future greatness. Alas! no bell rung in invitation to +us, as we looked disconsolately upon the distant city. Old London seemed to +wrap itself up unsociably in its mantle of brown smoke, and to offer no +encouragement to such a couple of tatterdemalions. +</p> + +<p> +For once, at least, the usual course of the pantomime was reversed. Harlequin +was jilted, and the lover had earned off Columbine in good earnest. But what +was I to do with her? I had never contemplated such a dilemma; and I now felt +that even a fortunate lover may be embarrassed by his good fortune. I really +knew not what was to become of me; for I had still the boyish fear of returning +home; standing in awe of the stern temper of my father, and dreading the ready +arm of the pedagogue. And even if I were to venture home, what was I to do with +Columbine? I could not take her in my hand, and throw myself on my knees, and +crave his forgiveness and his blessing according to dramatic usage. The very +dogs would have chased such a draggle-tailed beauty from the grounds. +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of my doleful dumps, some one tapped me on the shoulder, and +looking up I saw a couple of rough sturdy fellows standing behind me. Not +knowing what to expect I jumped on my legs, and was preparing again to make +battle; but I was tripped up and secured in a twinkling. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, young master,” said one of the fellows in a gruff, but +good-humored tone, “don’t let’s have any of your tantrums; one would have +thought that you had had swing enough for this bout. Come, it’s high time to +leave off harlequinading, and go home to your father.” +</p> + +<p> +In fact I had a couple of Bow street officers hold of me. The cruel Sacharissa +had proclaimed who I was, and that a reward had been offered throughout the +country for any tidings of me; and they had seen a description of me that had +been forwarded to the police office in town. Those harpies, therefore, for the +mere sake of filthy lucre, were resolved to deliver me over into the hands of +my father and the clutches of my pedagogue. +</p> + +<p> +It was in vain that I swore I would not leave my faithful and Afflicted +Columbine. It was in vain that I tore myself from their grasp, and flew to her; +and vowed to protect her; and wiped the tears from her cheek, and with them a +whole blush that might have vied with the carnation for brilliancy. My +persecutors were inflexible; they even seemed to exult in our distress; and to +enjoy this theatrical display of dirt, and finery, and tribulation. I was +carried off in despair, leaving my Columbine destitute in the wide world; but +many a look of agony did I cast back at her, as she stood gazing piteously +after me from the brink of Hempstead Hill; so forlorn, so fine, so ragged, so +bedraggled, yet so beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +Thus ended my first peep into the world. I returned home, rich in +good-for-nothing experience, and dreading the reward I was to receive for my +improvement. My reception, however, was quite different from what I had +expected. My father had a spice of the devil in him, and did not seem to like +me the worse for my freak, which he termed “sowing my wild oats.” He happened +to have several of his sporting friends to dine with him the very day of my +return; they made me tell some of my adventures, and laughed heartily at them. +One old fellow, with an outrageously red nose, took to me hugely. I heard him +whisper to my father that I was a lad of mettle, and might make something +clever; to which my father replied that “I had good points, but was an +ill-broken whelp, and required a great deal of the whip.” Perhaps this very +conversation raised me a little in his esteem, for I found the red-nosed old +gentleman was a veteran fox-hunter of the neighborhood, for whose opinion my +father had vast deference. Indeed, I believe he would have pardoned anything in +me more readily than poetry; which he called a cursed, sneaking, puling, +housekeeping employment, the bane of all true manhood. He swore it was unworthy +of a youngster of my expectations, who was one day to have so great an estate, +and would he able to keep horses and hounds and hire poets to write songs for +him into the bargain. +</p> + +<p> +I had now satisfied, for a time, my roving propensity. I had exhausted the +poetical feeling. I had been heartily buffeted out of my love for theatrical +display. I felt humiliated by my exposure, and was willing to hide my head +anywhere for a season; so that I might be out of the way of the ridicule of the +world; for I found folks not altogether so indulgent abroad as they were at my +father’s table. I could not stay at home; the house was intolerably doleful now +that my mother was no longer there to cherish me. Every thing around spoke +mournfully of her. The little flower-garden in which she delighted was all in +disorder and overrun with weeds. I attempted, for a day or two, to arrange it, +but my heart grew heavier and heavier as I labored. Every little broken-down +flower that I had seen her rear so tenderly, seemed to plead in mute eloquence +to my feelings. There was a favorite honeysuckle which I had seen her often +training with assiduity, and had heard her say it should be the pride of her +garden. I found it grovelling along the ground, tangled and wild, and twining +round every worthless weed, and it struck me as an emblem of myself: a mere +scatterling, running to waste and uselessness. I could work no longer in the +garden. +</p> + +<p> +My father sent me to pay a visit to my uncle, by way of keeping the old +gentleman in mind of me. I was received, as usual, without any expression of +discontent; which we always considered equivalent to a hearty welcome. Whether +he had ever heard of my strolling freak or not I could not discover; he and his +man were both so taciturn. I spent a day or two roaming about the dreary +mansion and neglected park; and felt at one time, I believe, a touch of poetry, +for I was tempted to drown myself in a fish-pond; I rebuked the evil spirit, +however, and it left me. I found the same red-headed boy running wild about the +park, but I felt in no humor to hunt him at present. On the contrary, I tried +to coax him to me, and to make friends with him, but the young savage was +untameable. +</p> + +<p> +When I returned from my uncle’s I remained at home for some time, for my father +was disposed, he said, to make a man of me. He took me out hunting with him, +and I became a great favorite of the red-nosed squire, because I rode at +everything; never refused the boldest leap, and was always sure to be in at the +death. I used often however, to offend my father at hunting dinners, by taking +the wrong side in politics. My father was amazingly ignorant—so ignorant, in +fact, as not to know that he knew nothing. He was staunch, however, to church +and king, and full of old-fashioned prejudices. Now, I had picked up a little +knowledge in politics and religion, during my rambles with the strollers, and +found myself capable of setting him right as to many of his antiquated notions. +I felt it my duty to do so; we were apt, therefore, to differ occasionally in +the political discussions that sometimes arose at these hunting dinners. +</p> + +<p> +I was at that age when a man knows least and is most vain of his knowledge; and +when he is extremely tenacious in defending his opinion upon subjects about +which he knows nothing. My father was a hard man for any one to argue with, for +he never knew when he was refuted. I sometimes posed him a little, but then he +had one argument that always settled the question; he would threaten to knock +me down. I believe he at last grew tired of me, because I both out-talked and +outrode him. The red-nosed squire, too, got out of conceit of me, because in +the heat of the chase, I rode over him one day as he and his horse lay +sprawling in the dirt. My father, therefore, thought it high time to send me to +college; and accordingly to Trinity College at Oxford was I sent. +</p> + +<p> +I had lost my habits of study while at home; and I was not likely to find them +again at college. I found that study was not the fashion at college, and that a +lad of spirit only ate his terms; and grew wise by dint of knife and fork. I +was always prone to follow the fashions of the company into which I fell; so I +threw by my books, and became a man of spirit. As my father made me a tolerable +allowance, notwithstanding the narrowness of his income, having an eye always +to my great expectations, I was enabled to appear to advantage among my +fellow-students. I cultivated all kinds of sports and exercises. I was one of +the most expert oarsmen that rowed on the Isis. I boxed and fenced. I was a +keen huntsman, and my chambers in college were always decorated with whips of +all kinds, spurs, foils, and boxing gloves. A pair of leather breeches would +seem to be throwing one leg out of the half-open drawers, and empty bottles +lumbered the bottom of every closet. +</p> + +<p> +I soon grew tired of this, and relapsed into my vein of mere poetical +indulgence. I was charmed with Oxford, for it was full of poetry to me. I +thought I should never grow tired of wandering about its courts and cloisters; +and visiting the different college halls. I used to love to get in places +surrounded by the colleges, where all modern buildings were screened from the +sight; and to walk about them in twilight, and see the professors and students +sweeping along in the dusk in their caps and gowns. There was complete delusion +in the scene. It seemed to transport me among the edifices and the people of +old times. It was a great luxury, too, for me to attend the evening service in +the new college chapel, and to hear the fine organ and the choir swelling an +anthem in that solemn building; where painting and music and architecture seem +to combine their grandest effects. +</p> + +<p> +I became a loiterer, also, about the Bodleian library, and a great dipper into +books; but too idle to follow any course of study or vein of research. One of +my favorite haunts was the beautiful walk, bordered by lofty elms, along the +Isis, under the old gray walls of Magdalen College, which goes by the name of +Addison’s Walk; and was his resort when a student at the college. I used to +take a volume of poetry in my hand, and stroll up and down this walk for hours. +</p> + +<p> +My father came to see me at college. He asked me how I came on with my studies; +and what kind of hunting there was in the neighborhood. He examined my sporting +apparatus; wanted to know if any of the professors were fox-hunters; and +whether they were generally good shots; for he suspected this reading so much +was rather hurtful to the sight. Such was the only person to whom I was +responsible for my improvement: is it matter of wonder, therefore, that I +became a confirmed idler? +</p> + +<p> +I do not know how it is, but I cannot be idle long without getting in love. I +became deeply smitten with a shopkeeper’s daughter in the high street; who in +fact was the admiration of many of the students. I wrote several sonnets in +praise of her, and spent half of my pocket-money at the shop, in buying +articles which I did not want, that I might have an opportunity of speaking to +her. Her father, a severe-looking old gentleman, with bright silver buckles and +a crisp, curled wig, kept a strict guard on her; as the fathers generally do +upon their daughters in Oxford; and well they may. I tried to get into his good +graces, and to be sociable with him; but in vain. I said several good things in +his shop, but he never laughed; he had no relish for wit and humor. He was one +of those dry old gentlemen who keep youngsters at bay. He had already brought +up two or three daughters, and was experienced in the ways of students. +</p> + +<p> +He was as knowing and wary as a gray old badger that has often been hunted. To +see him on Sunday, so stiff and starched in his demeanor; so precise in his +dress; with his daughter under his arm, and his ivory-headed cane in his hand, +was enough to deter all graceless youngsters from approaching. +</p> + +<p> +I managed, however, in spite of his vigilance, to have several Conversations +with the daughter, as I cheapened articles in the shop. I made terrible long +bargains, and examined the articles over and over, before I purchased. In the +meantime, I would convey a sonnet or an acrostic under cover of a piece of +cambric, or slipped into a pair of stockings; I would whisper soft nonsense +into her ear as I haggled about the price; and would squeeze her hand tenderly +as I received my halfpence of change, in a bit of whity-brown paper. Let this +serve as a hint to all haberdashers, who have pretty daughters for shop-girls, +and young students for customers. I do not know whether my words and looks were +very eloquent; but my poetry was irresistible; for, to tell the truth, the girl +had some literary taste, and was seldom without a book from the circulating +library. +</p> + +<p> +By the divine power of poetry, therefore, which is irresistible with the lovely +sex, did I subdue the heart of this fair little haberdasher. We carried on a +sentimental correspondence for a time across the counter, and I supplied her +with rhyme by the stockingful. At length I prevailed on her to grant me an +assignation. But how was it to be effected? Her father kept her always under +his eye; she never walked out alone; and the house was locked up the moment +that the shop was shut. All these difficulties served but to give zest to the +adventure. I proposed that the assignation should be in her own chamber, into +which I would climb at night. The plan was irresistible. A cruel father, a +secret lover, and a clandestine meeting! All the little girl’s studies from the +circulating library seemed about to be realised. But what had I in view in +making this assignation? Indeed I know not. I had no evil intentions; nor can I +say that I had any good ones. I liked the girl, and wanted to have an +opportunity of seeing more of her; and the assignation was made, as I have done +many things else, heedlessly and without forethought. I asked myself a few +questions of the kind, after all my arrangements were made; but the answers +were very unsatisfactory. “Am I to ruin this poor thoughtless girl?” said I to +myself. “No!” was the prompt and indignant answer. “Am I to run away with her?” +“Whither—and to what purpose?” “Well, then, am I to marry her!”—“Pah! a man of +my expectations marry a shopkeeper’s daughter!” “What, then, am I to do with +her?” “Hum—why.—Let me get into her chamber first, and then consider”—and so +the self-examination ended. +</p> + +<p> +Well, sir, “come what come might,” I stole under cover of the darkness to the +dwelling of my dulcinea. All was quiet. At the concerted signal her window was +gently opened. It was just above the projecting bow-window of her father’s +shop, which assisted me in mounting. The house was low, and I was enabled to +scale the fortress with tolerable ease. I clambered with a beating heart; I +reached the casement; I hoisted my body half into the chamber and was welcomed, +not by the embraces of my expecting fair one, but by the grasp of the +crabbed-looking old father in the crisp curled wig. +</p> + +<p> +I extricated myself from his clutches and endeavored to make my retreat; but I +was confounded by his cries of thieves! and robbers! I was bothered, too, by +his Sunday cane; which was amazingly busy about my head as I descended; and +against which my hat was but a poor protection. Never before had I an idea of +the activity of an old man’s arm, and hardness of the knob of an ivory-headed +cane. In my hurry and confusion I missed my footing, and fell sprawling on the +pavement. I was immediately surrounded by myrmidons, who I doubt not were on +the watch for me. Indeed, I was in no situation to escape, for I had sprained +my ankle in the fall, and could not stand. I was seized as a housebreaker; and +to exonerate myself from a greater crime I had to accuse myself of a less. I +made known who I was, and why I came there. Alas! the varlets knew it already, +and were only amusing themselves at my expense. My perfidious muse had been +playing me one of her slippery tricks. The old curmudgeon of a father had found +my sonnets and acrostics hid away in holes and corners of his shop; he had no +taste for poetry like his daughter, and had instituted a rigorous though silent +observation. He had moused upon our letters; detected the ladder of ropes, and +prepared everything for my reception. Thus was I ever doomed to be led into +scrapes by the muse. Let no man henceforth carry on a secret amour in poetry. +</p> + +<p> +The old man’s ire was in some measure appeased by the pummelling of my head, +and the anguish of my sprain; so he did not put me to death on the spot. He was +even humane enough to furnish a shutter, on which I was carried back to the +college like a wounded warrior. The porter was roused to admit me; the college +gate was thrown open for my entry; the affair was blazed abroad the next +morning, and became the joke of the college from the buttery to the hall. +</p> + +<p> +I had leisure to repent during several weeks’ confinement by my sprain, which I +passed in translating Boethius’ Consolations of Philosophy. I received a most +tender and ill-spelled letter from my mistress, who had been sent to a relation +in Coventry. She protested her innocence of my misfortunes, and vowed to be +true to me “till death.” I took no notice of the letter, for I was cured, for +the present, both of love and poetry. Women, however, are more constant in +their attachments than men, whatever philosophers may say to the contrary. I am +assured that she actually remained faithful to her vow for several months; but +she had to deal with a cruel father whose heart was as hard as the knob of his +cane. He was not to be touched by tears or poetry; but absolutely compelled her +to marry a reputable young tradesman; who made her a happy woman in spite of +herself, and of all the rules of romance; and what is more, the mother of +several children. They are at this very day a thriving couple and keep a snug +corner shop, just opposite the figure of Peeping Tom at Coventry. +</p> + +<p> +I will not fatigue you by any more details of my studies at Oxford, though they +were not always as severe as these; nor did I always pay as dear for my +lessons. People may say what they please, a studious life has its charms, and +there are many places more gloomy than the cloisters of a university. +</p> + +<p> +To be brief, then, I lived on in my usual miscellaneous manner, gradually +getting a knowledge of good and evil, until I had attained my twenty-first +year. I had scarcely come of age when I heard of the sudden death of my father. +The shock was severe, for though he had never treated me with kindness, still +he was my father, and at his death I felt myself alone in the world. +</p> + +<p> +I returned home to act as chief mourner at his funeral. It was attended by many +of the sportsmen of the country; for he was an important member of their +fraternity. According to his request his favorite hunter was led after the +hearse. The red-nosed fox-hunter, who had taken a little too much wine at the +house, made a maudlin eulogy of the deceased, and wished to give the view +halloo over the grave; but he was rebuked by the rest of the company. They all +shook me kindly by the hand, said many consolatory things to me, and invited me +to become a member of the hunt in my father’s place. +</p> + +<p> +When I found myself alone in my paternal home, a crowd of gloomy feelings came +thronging upon me. It was a place that always seemed to sober me, and bring me +to reflection. Now, especially, it looked so deserted and melancholy; the +furniture displaced about the room; the chairs in groups, as their departed +occupants had sat, either in whispering tête-à-têtes, or gossiping clusters; +the bottles and decanters and wine-glasses, half emptied, and scattered about +the tables—all dreary traces of a funeral festival. I entered the little +breakfasting room. There were my father’s whip and spurs hanging by the +fire-place, and his favorite pointer lying on the hearth-rug. The poor animal +came fondling about me, and licked my hand, though he had never before noticed +me; and then he looked round the room, and whined, and wagged his tail +slightly, and gazed wistfully in my face. I felt the full force of the appeal. +“Poor Dash!” said I, “we are both alone in the world, with nobody to care for +us, and we’ll take care of one another.” The dog never quitted me afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +I could not go into my mother’s room: my heart swelled when I passed Within +sight of the door. Her portrait hung in the parlor, just over the place where +she used to sit. As I cast my eyes on it I thought it looked at me with +tenderness, and I burst into tears. My heart had long been seared by living in +public schools, and buffeting about among strangers who cared nothing for me; +but the recollection of a mother’s tenderness was overcoming. +</p> + +<p> +I was not of an age or a temperament to be long depressed. There was a reaction +in my system that always brought me up again at every pressure; and indeed my +spirits were most buoyant after a temporary prostration. I settled the concerns +of the estate as soon as possible; realized my property, which was not very +considerable, but which appeared a vast deal to me, having a poetical eye that +magnified everything; and finding myself, at the end of a few months, free of +all farther business or restraint, I determined to go to London and enjoy +myself. Why should not I?—I was young, animated, joyous; had plenty of funds +for present pleasures, and my uncle’s estate in the perspective. Let those mope +at college and pore over books, thought I, who have their way to make in the +world; it would be ridiculous drudgery in a youth of my expectations. +</p> + +<p> +Well, sir, away to London I rattled in a tandem, determined to take the town +gaily. I passed through several of the villages where I had played the +jack-pudding a few years before; and I visited the scenes of many of my +adventures and follies, merely from that feeling of melancholy pleasure which +we have in stepping again into the footprints of foregone existence, even when +they have passed among weeds and briars. I made a circuit in the latter part of +my journey, so as to take in West End and Hempstead, the scenes of my last +dramatic exploit, and of the battle royal of the booth. As I drove along the +ridge of Hempstead Hill, by Jack Straw’s castle, I paused at the spot where +Columbine and I had sat down so disconsolately in our ragged finery, and looked +dubiously upon London. I almost expected to see her again, standing on the +hill’s brink, “like Niobe all tears;”—mournful as Babylon in ruins! +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Columbine!” said I, with a heavy sigh, “thou wert a gallant, generous +girl—a true woman, faithful to the distressed, and ready to sacrifice thyself +in the cause of worthless man!” +</p> + +<p> +I tried to whistle off the recollection of her; for there was always Something +of self-reproach with it. I drove gayly along the road, enjoying the stare of +hostlers and stable-boys as I managed my horses knowingly down the steep street +of Hempstead; when, just at the skirts of the village, one of the traces of my +leader came loose. I pulled up; and as the animal was restive and my servant a +bungler, I called for assistance to the robustious master of a snug ale-house, +who stood at his door with a tankard in his hand. He came readily to assist me, +followed by his wife, with her bosom half open, a child in her arms, and two +more at her heels. I stared for a moment as if doubting my eyes. I could not be +mistaken; in the fat, beer-blown landlord of the ale-house I recognized my old +rival Harlequin, and in his slattern spouse, the once trim and dimpling +Columbine. +</p> + +<p> +The change of my looks, from youth to manhood, and the change of my +circumstances, prevented them from recognizing me. They could not suspect, in +the dashing young buck, fashionably dressed, and driving his own equipage, +their former comrade, the painted beau, with old peaked hat and long, flimsy, +sky-blue coat. My heart yearned with kindness towards Columbine, and I was glad +to see her establishment a thriving one. As soon as the harness was adjusted, I +tossed a small purse of gold into her ample bosom; and then, pretending give my +horses a hearty cut of the whip, I made the lash curl with a whistling about +the sleek sides of ancient Harlequin. The horses dashed off like lightning, and +I was whirled out of sight, before either of the parties could get over their +surprise at my liberal donations. I have always considered this as one of the +greatest proofs of my poetical genius. It was distributing poetical justice in +perfection. +</p> + +<p> +I now entered London <i>en cavalier</i>, and became a blood upon town. I took +fashionable lodgings in the West End; employed the first tailor; frequented the +regular lounges; gambled a little; lost my money good-humoredly, and gained a +number of fashionable good-for-nothing acquaintances. Had I had more industry +and ambition in my nature, I might have worked my way to the very height of +fashion, as I saw many laborious gentlemen doing around me. But it is a +toilsome, an anxious, and an unhappy life; there are few beings so sleepless +and miserable as your cultivators of fashionable smiles. +</p> + +<p> +I was quite content with that kind of society which forms the frontiers of +fashion, and may be easily taken possession of. I found it a light, easy, +productive soil. I had but to go about and sow visiting cards, and I reaped a +whole harvest of invitations. Indeed, my figure and address were by no means +against me. It was whispered, too, among the young ladies, that I was +prodigiously clever, and wrote poetry; and the old ladies had ascertained that +I was a young gentleman of good family, handsome fortune, and “great +expectations.” +</p> + +<p> +I now was carried away by the hurry of gay life, so intoxicating to a young +man; and which a man of poetical temperament enjoys so highly on his first +tasting of it. That rapid variety of sensations; that whirl of brilliant +objects; that succession of pungent pleasures. I had no time for thought; I +only felt. I never attempted to write poetry; my poetry seemed all to go off by +transpiration. I lived poetry; it was all a poetical dream to me. A mere +sensualist knows nothing of the delights of a splendid metropolis. He lives in +a round of animal gratifications and heartless habits. But to a young man of +poetical feelings it is an ideal world; a scene of enchantment and delusion; +his imagination is in perpetual excitement, and gives a spiritual zest to every +pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +A season of town life somewhat sobered me of my intoxication; or rather I was +rendered more serious by one of my old complaints—I fell in love. It was with a +very pretty, though a very haughty fair one, who had come to London under the +care of an old maiden aunt, to enjoy the pleasures of a winter in town, and to +get married. There was not a doubt of her commanding a choice of lovers; for +she had long been the belle of a little cathedral town; and one of the +prebendaries had absolutely celebrated her beauty in a copy of Latin verses. +</p> + +<p> +I paid my court to her, and was favorably received both by her and her aunt. +Nay, I had a marked preference shown me over the younger son of a needy +baronet, and a captain of dragoons on half pay. I did not absolutely take the +field in form, for I was determined not to be precipitate; but I drove my +equipage frequently through the street in which she lived, and was always sure +to see her at the window, generally with a book in her hand. I resumed my knack +at rhyming, and sent her a long copy of verses; anonymously to be sure; but she +knew my handwriting. They displayed, however, the most delightful ignorance on +the subject. The young lady showed them to me; wondered who they could be +written by; and declared there was nothing in this world she loved so much as +poetry: while the maiden aunt would put her pinching spectacles on her nose, +and read them, with blunders in sense and sound, that were excruciating to an +author’s ears; protesting there was nothing equal to them in the whole elegant +extracts. +</p> + +<p> +The fashionable season closed without my adventuring to make a declaration, +though. I certainly had encouragement. I was not perfectly sure that I had +effected a lodgment in the young lady’s heart; and, to tell the truth, the aunt +overdid her part, and was a little too extravagant in her liking of me. I knew +that maiden aunts were not apt to be captivated by the mere personal merits of +their nieces’ admirers, and I wanted to ascertain how much of all this favor I +owed to my driving an equipage and having great expectations. +</p> + +<p> +I had received many hints how charming their native town was during the summer +months; what pleasant society they had; and what beautiful drives about the +neighborhood. They had not, therefore, returned home long, before I made my +appearance in dashing style, driving down the principal street. It is an easy +thing to put a little quiet cathedral town in a buzz. The very next morning I +was seen at prayers, seated in the pew of the reigning belle. All the +congregation was in a flutter. The prebends eyed me from their stalls; +questions were whispered about the aisles after service, “who is he?” and “what +is he?” and the replies were as usual—“A young gentleman of good family and +fortune, and great expectations.” +</p> + +<p> +I was pleased with the peculiarities of a cathedral town, where I found I was a +personage of some consequence. I was quite a brilliant acquisition to the young +ladies of the cathedral circle, who were glad to have a beau that was not in a +black coat and clerical wig. +</p> + +<p> +You must know that there was a vast distinction between the classes of society +of the town. As it was a place of some trade, there were many wealthy +inhabitants among the commercial and manufacturing classes, who lived in style +and gave many entertainments. Nothing of trade, however, was admitted into the +cathedral circle—faugh! the thing could not be thought of. The cathedral +circle, therefore, was apt to be very select, very dignified, and very dull. +They had evening parties, at which the old ladies played cards with the +prebends, and the young ladies sat and looked on, and shifted from one chair to +another about the room, until it was time to go home. +</p> + +<p> +It was difficult to get up a ball, from the want of partners, the Cathedral +circle being very deficient in dancers; and on those occasions, there was an +occasional drafting among the dancing men of the other circle, who, however, +were generally regarded with great reserve and condescension by the gentlemen +in powdered wigs. Several of the young ladies assured me, in confidence, that +they had often looked with a wistful eye at the gayety of the other circle, +where there was such plenty of young beaux, and where they all seemed to enjoy +themselves so merrily; but that it would be degradation to think of descending +from their sphere. +</p> + +<p> +I admired the degree of old-fashioned ceremony and superannuated courtesy that +prevailed in this little place. The bowings and courtseyings that would take +place about the cathedral porch after morning service, where knots of old +gentlemen and ladies would collect together to ask after each other’s health, +and settle the card party for the evening. The little presents of fruits and +delicacies, and the thousand petty messages that would pass from house to +house; for in a tranquil community like this, living entirely at ease, and +having little to do, little duties and little civilities and little amusements, +fill up the day. I have smiled, as I looked from my window on a quiet street +near the cathedral, in the middle of a warm summer day, to see a corpulent +powdered footman in rich livery, carrying a small tart on a large silver +salver. A dainty titbit, sent, no doubt, by some worthy old dowager, to top off +the dinner of her favorite prebend. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could be more delectable, also, than the breaking up of one of their +evening card parties. Such shaking of hands such mobbing up in cloaks and +tippets! There were two or three old sedan chairs that did the duty of the +whole place; though the greater part made their exit in clogs and pattens, with +a footman or waiting-maid carrying a lanthorn in advance; and at a certain hour +of the night the clank of pattens and the gleam of these jack lanthorns, here +and there, about the quiet little town, gave notice that the cathedral card +party had dissolved, and the luminaries were severally seeking their homes. To +such a community, therefore, or at least to the female part of it, the +accession of a gay, dashing young beau was a matter of some importance. The old +ladies eyed me with complacency through their spectacles, and the young ladies +pronounced me divine. Everybody received me favorably, excepting the gentleman +who had written the Latin verses on the belle.—Not that he was jealous of my +success with the lady, for he had no pretensions to her; but he heard my verses +praised wherever he went, and he could not endure a rival with the muse. +</p> + +<p> +I was thus carrying every thing before me. I was the Adonis of the Cathedral +circle; when one evening there was a public ball which was attended likewise by +the gentry of the neighborhood. I took great pains with my toilet on the +occasion, and I had never looked better. I had determined that night to make my +grand assault on the heart of the young lady, to batter it with all my forces, +and the next morning to demand a surrender in due form. +</p> + +<p> +I entered the ball-room amidst a buzz and flutter, which generally took place +among the young ladies on my appearance. I was in fine spirits; for to tell the +truth, I had exhilarated myself by a cheerful glass of wine on the occasion. I +talked, and rattled, and said a thousand silly things, slap-dash, with all the +confidence of a man sure of his auditors; and every thing had its effect. +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of my triumph I observed a little knot gathering together in the +upper part of the room. By degrees it increased. A tittering broke out there; +and glances were cast round at me, and then there would be fresh tittering. +Some of the young ladies would hurry away to distant parts of the room, and +whisper to their friends; wherever they went there was still this tittering and +glancing at me. I did not know what to make of all this. I looked at myself +from head to foot; and peeped at my back in a glass, to see if any thing was +odd about my person; any awkward exposure; any whimsical tag hanging +out—no—every thing was right. I was a perfect picture. +</p> + +<p> +I determined that it must be some choice saying of mine, that was handled about +in this knot of merry beauties, and I determined to enjoy one of my good things +in the rebound. +</p> + +<p> +I stepped gently, therefore, up the room, smiling at every one as I passed, who +I must say all smiled and tittered in return. I approached the group, smirking +and perking my chin, like a man who is full of pleasant feeling, and sure of +being well received. The cluster of little belles opened as I advanced. +</p> + +<p> +Heavens and earth! whom should I perceive in the midst of them, but my early +and tormenting flame, the everlasting Sacharissa! She was grown up, it is true, +into the full beauty of womanhood, but showed by the provoking merriment of her +countenance, that she perfectly recollected me, and the ridiculous +flagellations of which she had twice been the cause. +</p> + +<p> +I saw at once the exterminating cloud of ridicule that was bursting over me. My +crest fell. The flame of love went suddenly out in my bosom; or was +extinguished by overwhelming shame. How I got down the room I know not; I +fancied every one tittering at me. Just as I reached the door, I caught a +glance of my mistress and her aunt, listening to the whispers of my poetic +rival; the old lady raising her hands and eyes, and the face of the young one +lighted up with scorn ineffable. I paused to see no more; but made two steps +from the top of the stairs to the bottom. The next morning, before sunrise, I +beat a retreat; and did not feel the blushes cool from my tingling cheeks until +I had lost sight of the old towers of the cathedral. +</p> + +<p> +I now returned to town thoughtful and crestfallen. My money was nearly spent, +for I had lived freely and without calculation. The dream of love was over, and +the reign of pleasure at an end. I determined to retrench while I had yet a +trifle left; so selling my equipage and horses for half their value, I quietly +put the money in my pocket and turned pedestrian. I had not a doubt that, with +my great expectations, I could at any time raise funds, either on usury or by +borrowing; but I was principled against both one and the other; and resolved, +by strict economy, to make my slender purse hold out, until my uncle should +give up the ghost; or rather, the estate. +</p> + +<p> +I stayed at home, therefore, and read, and would have written; but I had +already suffered too much from my poetical productions, which had generally +involved me in some ridiculous scrape. I gradually acquired a rusty look, and +had a straightened, money-borrowing air, upon which the world began to shy me. +I have never felt disposed to quarrel with the world for its conduct. It has +always used me well. When I have been flush, and gay, and disposed for society, +it has caressed me; and when I have been pinched, and reduced, and wished to be +alone, why, it has left me alone, and what more could a man desire?—Take my +word for it, this world is a more obliging world than people generally +represent it. +</p> + +<p> +Well, sir, in the midst of my retrenchment, my retirement, and my studiousness, +I received news that my uncle was dangerously ill. I hastened on the wings of +an heir’s affection to receive his dying breath and his last testament. I found +him attended by his faithful valet, old Iron John; by the woman who +occasionally worked about the house; and by the foxy-headed boy, young Orson, +whom I had occasionally hunted about the park. +</p> + +<p> +Iron John gasped a kind of asthmatical salutation as I entered the room, and +received me with something almost like a smile of welcome. The woman sat +blubbering at the foot of the bed; and the foxy-headed Orson, who had now grown +to be a lubberly lout, stood gazing in stupid vacancy at a distance. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle lay stretched upon his back. The chamber was without a fire, or any of +the comforts of a sick-room. The cobwebs flaunted from the ceiling. The tester +was covered with dust, and the curtains were tattered. From underneath the bed +peeped out one end of his strong box. Against the wainscot were suspended rusty +blunderbusses, horse pistols, and a cut-and-thrust sword, with which he had +fortified his room to defend his life and treasure. He had employed no +physician during his illness, and from the scanty relics lying on the table, +seemed almost to have denied himself the assistance of a cook. +</p> + +<p> +When I entered the room he was lying motionless; with his eyes fixed and his +mouth open; at the first look I thought him a corpse. The noise of my entrance +made him turn his head. At the sight of me a ghastly smile came over his face, +and his glazing eye gleamed with satisfaction. It was the only smile he had +ever given me, and it went to my heart. “Poor old man!” thought I, “why would +you not let me love you?—Why would you force me to leave you thus desolate, +when I see that my presence has the power to cheer you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nephew,” said he, after several efforts, and in a low gasping voice —“I am +glad you are come. I shall now die with satisfaction. Look,” said he, raising +his withered hand and pointing—“look—in that box on the table you will find +that I have not forgotten you.” +</p> + +<p> +I pressed his hand to my heart, and the tears stood in my eyes. I sat down by +his bed-side, and watched him, but he never spoke again. My presence, however, +gave him evident satisfaction—for every now and then, as he looked at me, a +vague smile would come over his visage, and he would feebly point to the sealed +box on the table. As the day wore away, his life seemed to wear away with it. +Towards sunset, his hand sunk on the bed and lay motionless; his eyes grew +glazed; his mouth remained open, and thus he gradually died. +</p> + +<p> +I could not but feel shocked at this absolute extinction of my kindred. I +dropped a tear of real sorrow over this strange old man, who had thus reserved +his smile of kindness to his deathbed; like an evening sun after a gloomy day, +just shining out to set in darkness. Leaving the corpse in charge of the +domestics, I retired for the night. +</p> + +<p> +It was a rough night. The winds seemed as if singing my uncle’s requiem about +the mansion; and the bloodhounds howled without as if they knew of the death of +their old master. Iron John almost grudged me the tallow candle to burn in my +apartment and light up its dreariness; so accustomed had he been to starveling +economy. I could not sleep. The recollection of my uncle’s dying scene and the +dreary sounds about the house, affected my mind. These, however, were succeeded +by plans for the future, and I lay awake the greater part of the night, +indulging the poetical anticipation, how soon I would make these old walls ring +with cheerful life, and restore the hospitality of my mother’s ancestors. +</p> + +<p> +My uncle’s funeral was decent, but private, I knew there was nobody That +respected his memory; and I was determined that none should be summoned to +sneer over his funeral wines, and make merry at his grave. He was buried in the +church of the neighboring village, though it was not the burying place of his +race; but he had expressly enjoined that he should not be buried with his +family; he had quarrelled with the most of them when living, and he carried his +resentments even into the grave. +</p> + +<p> +I defrayed the expenses of the funeral out of my own purse, that I might have +done with the undertakers at once, and clear the ill-omened birds from the +premises. I invited the parson of the parish, and the lawyer from the village +to attend at the house the next morning and hear the reading of the will. I +treated them to an excellent breakfast, a profusion that had not been seen at +the house for many a year. As soon as the breakfast things were removed, I +summoned Iron John, the woman, and the boy, for I was particular of having +every one present and proceeding regularly. The box was placed on the table. +All was silence. I broke the seal; raised the lid; and beheld—not the will, but +my accursed poem of Doubting Castle and Giant Despair! +</p> + +<p> +Could any mortal have conceived that this old withered man; so taciturn, and +apparently lost to feeling, could have treasured up for years the thoughtless +pleasantry of a boy, to punish him with such cruel ingenuity? I could now +account for his dying smile, the only one he had ever given me. He had been a +grave man all his life; it was strange that he should die in the enjoyment of a +joke; and it was hard that that joke should be at my expense. +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer and the parson seemed at a loss to comprehend the matter. “Here must +be some mistake,” said the lawyer, “there is no will here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said Iron John, creaking forth his rusty jaws, “if it is a will you are +looking for, I believe I can find one.” +</p> + +<p> +He retired with the same singular smile with which he had greeted me on my +arrival, and which I now apprehended boded me no good. In a little while he +returned with a will perfect at all points, properly signed and sealed and +witnessed; worded with horrible correctness; in which he left large legacies to +Iron John and his daughter, and the residue of his fortune to the foxy-headed +boy; who, to my utter astonishment, was his son by this very woman; he having +married her privately; and, as I verily believe, for no other purpose than to +have an heir, and so baulk my father and his issue of the inheritance. There +was one little proviso, in which he mentioned that having discovered his nephew +to have a pretty turn for poetry, he presumed he had no occasion for wealth; he +recommended him, however, to the patronage of his heir; and requested that he +might have a garret, rent free, in Doubting Castle. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Buckthorne had paused at the death of his uncle, and the downfall of his +great expectations, which formed, as he said, an epoch in his history; and it +was not until some little time afterwards, and in a very sober mood, that he +resumed his particolored narrative. +</p> + +<p> +After leaving the domains of my defunct uncle, said he, when the gate Closed +between me and what was once to have been mine, I felt thrust out naked into +the world, and completely abandoned to fortune. What was to become of me? I had +been brought up to nothing but expectations, and they had all been +disappointed. I had no relations to look to for counsel or assistance. The +world seemed all to have died away from me. Wave after wave of relationship had +ebbed off, and I was left a mere hulk upon the strand. I am not apt to be +greatly cast down, but at this, time I felt sadly disheartened. I could not +realize my situation, nor form a conjecture how I was to get forward. +</p> + +<p> +I was now to endeavor to make money. The idea was new and strange to me. It was +like being asked to discover the philosopher’s stone. I had never thought about +money, other than to put my hand into my pocket and find it, or if there were +none there, to wait until a new supply came from home. I had considered life as +a mere space of time to be filled up with enjoyments; but to have it portioned +out into long hours and days of toil, merely that I might gain bread to give me +strength to toil on; to labor but for the purpose of perpetuating a life of +labor was new and appalling to me. This may appear a very simple matter to +some, but it will be understood by every unlucky wight in my predicament, who +has had the misfortune of being born to great expectations. +</p> + +<p> +I passed several days in rambling about the scenes of my boyhood; partly +because I absolutely did not know what to do with myself, and partly because I +did not know that I should ever see them again. I clung to them as one clings +to a wreck, though he knows he must eventually cast himself loose and swim for +his life. I sat down on a hill within sight of my paternal home, but I did not +venture to approach it, for I felt compunction at the thoughtlessness with +which I had dissipated my patrimony. But was I to blame, when I had the rich +possessions of my curmudgeon of an uncle in expectation? +</p> + +<p> +The new possessor of the place was making great alterations. The house was +almost rebuilt. The trees which stood about it were cut down; my mother’s +flower-garden was thrown into a lawn; all was undergoing a change. I turned my +back upon it with a sigh, and rambled to another part of the country. +</p> + +<p> +How thoughtful a little adversity makes one. As I came in sight of the +school-house where I had so often been flogged in the cause of wisdom, you +would hardly have recognized the truant boy who but a few years since had +eloped so heedlessly from its walls. I leaned over the paling of the +playground, and watched the scholars at their games, and looked to see if there +might not be some urchin among them, like I was once, full of gay dreams about +life and the world. The play-ground seemed smaller than when I used to sport +about it. The house and park, too, of the neighboring squire, the father of the +cruel Sacharissa, had shrunk in size and diminished in magnificence. The +distant hills no longer appeared so far off, and, alas! no longer awakened +ideas of a fairy land beyond. +</p> + +<p> +As I was rambling pensively through a neighboring meadow, in which I had many a +time gathered primroses, I met the very pedagogue who had been the tyrant and +dread of my boyhood. I had sometimes vowed to myself, when suffering under his +rod, that I would have my revenge if ever I met him when I had grown to be a +man. The time had come; but I had no disposition to keep my vow. The few years +which had matured me into a vigorous man had shrunk him into decrepitude. He +appeared to have had a paralytic stroke. I looked at him, and wondered that +this poor helpless mortal could have been an object of terror to me! That I +should have watched with anxiety the glance of that failing eye, or dreaded the +power of that trembling hand! He tottered feebly along the path, and had some +difficulty in getting over a stile. I ran and assisted him. He looked at me +with surprise, but did not recognize me, and made a low bow of humility and +thanks. I had no disposition to make myself known, for I felt that I had +nothing to boast of. The pains he had taken and the pains he had inflicted had +been equally useless. His repeated predictions were fully verified, and I felt +that little Jack Buckthorne, the idle boy, had grown up to be a very +good-for-nothing man. +</p> + +<p> +This is all very comfortless detail; but as I have told you of my follies, it +is meet that I show you how for once I was schooled for them. +</p> + +<p> +The most thoughtless of mortals will some time or other have this day of gloom, +when he will be compelled to reflect. I felt on this occasion as if I had a +kind of penance to perform, and I made a pilgrimage in expiation of my past +levity. +</p> + +<p> +Having passed a night at Leamington, I set off by a private path which leads up +a hill, through a grove, and across quiet fields, until I came to the small +village, or rather hamlet of Lenington. I sought the village church. It is an +old low edifice of gray stone on the brow of a small hill, looking over fertile +fields to where the proud towers of Warwick Castle lifted themselves against +the distant horizon. A part of the church-yard is shaded by large trees. Under +one of these my mother lay buried. You have, no doubt, thought me a light, +heartless being. I thought myself so—but there are moments of adversity which +let us into some feelings of our nature, to which we might otherwise remain +perpetual strangers. +</p> + +<p> +I sought my mother’s grave. The weeds were already matted over it, and the +tombstone was half hid among nettles. I cleared them away and they stung my +hands; but I was heedless of the pain, for my heart ached too severely. I sat +down on the grave, and read over and over again the epitaph on the stone. It +was simple, but it was true. I had written it myself. I had tried to write a +poetical epitaph, but in vain; my feelings refused to utter themselves in +rhyme. My heart had gradually been filling during my lonely wanderings; it was +now charged to the brim and overflowed. I sank upon the grave and buried my +face in the tall grass and wept like a child. Yes, I wept in manhood upon the +grave, as I had in infancy upon the bosom of my mother. Alas! how little do we +appreciate a mother’s tenderness while living! How heedless are we in youth, of +all her anxieties and kindness. But when she is dead and gone; when the cares +and coldness of the world come withering to our hearts; when we find how hard +it is to find true sympathy, how few love us for ourselves, how few will +befriend us in our misfortunes; then it is we think of the mother we have lost. +It is true I had always loved my mother, even in my most heedless days; but I +felt how inconsiderate and ineffectual had been my love. My heart melted as I +retraced the days of infancy, when I was led by a mother’s hand and rocked to +sleep in a mother’s arms, and was without care or sorrow. “Oh, my mother!” +exclaimed I, burying my face again in the grass of the grave—“Oh, that I were +once more by your side; sleeping, never to wake again, on the cares and +troubles of this world!” +</p> + +<p> +I am not naturally of a morbid temperament, and the violence of my emotion +gradually exhausted itself. It was a hearty, honest, natural discharge of +griefs which had been slowly accumulating, and gave me wonderful relief. I rose +from the grave as if I had been offering up a sacrifice, and I felt as if that +sacrifice had been accepted. +</p> + +<p> +I sat down again on the grass, and plucked, one by one, the weeds from her +grave; the tears trickled more slowly down my cheeks, and ceased to be bitter. +It was a comfort to think that she had died before sorrow and poverty came upon +her child, and that all his great expectations were blasted. +</p> + +<p> +I leaned my cheek upon my hand and looked upon the landscape. Its quiet beauty +soothed me. The whistle of a peasant from an adjoining field came cheerily to +my ear. I seemed to respire hope and comfort with the free air that whispered +through the leaves and played lightly with my hair, and dried the tears upon my +cheek. A lark, rising from the field before me, and leaving, as it were, a +stream of song behind him as he rose, lifted my fancy with him. He hovered in +the air just above the place where the towers of Warwick Castle marked the +horizon; and seemed as if fluttering with delight at his own melody. “Surely,” +thought I, “if there were such a thing as transmigration of souls, this might +be taken for some poet, let loose from earth, but still revelling in song, and +carolling about fair fields and lordly towns.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the long forgotten feeling of poetry rose within me. A Thought +sprung at once into my mind: “I will become an author,” said I. “I have +hitherto indulged in poetry as a pleasure, and it has brought me nothing but +pain. Let me try what it will do, when I cultivate it with devotion as a +pursuit.” +</p> + +<p> +The resolution, thus suddenly aroused within me, heaved a load from off my +heart. I felt a confidence in it from the very place where it was formed. It +seemed as though my mother’s spirit whispered it to me from her grave. “I will +henceforth,” said I, “endeavor to be all that she fondly imagined me. I will +endeavor to act as if she were witness of my actions. I will endeavor to acquit +myself in such manner, that when I revisit her grave there may, at least, be no +compunctious bitterness in my tears.” +</p> + +<p> +I bowed down and kissed the turf in solemn attestation of my vow. I plucked +some primroses that were growing there and laid them next my heart. I left the +church-yard with my spirits once more lifted up, and set out a third time for +London, in the character of an author. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Here my companion made a pause, and I waited in anxious suspense; hoping to +have a whole volume of literary life unfolded to me. He seemed, however, to +have sunk into a fit of pensive musing; and when after some time I gently +roused him by a question or two as to his literary career. “No,” said he +smiling, “over that part of my story I wish to leave a cloud. Let the mysteries +of the craft rest sacred for me. Let those who have never adventured into the +republic of letters, still look upon it as a fairy land. Let them suppose the +author the very being they picture him from his works; I am not the man to mar +their illusion. I am not the man to hint, while one is admiring the silken web +of Persia, that it has been spun from the entrails of a miserable worm.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said I, “if you will tell me nothing of your literary history, let me +know at least if you have had any farther intelligence from Doubting Castle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Willingly,” replied he, “though I have but little to communicate.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap14"></a>THE BOOBY SQUIRE</h3> + +<p> +A long time elapsed, said Buckthorne, without my receiving any accounts of my +cousin and his estate. Indeed, I felt so much soreness on the subject, that I +wished, if possible, to shut it from my thoughts. At length chance took me into +that part of the country, and I could not refrain from making some inquiries. +</p> + +<p> +I learnt that my cousin had grown up ignorant, self-willed, and clownish. His +ignorance and clownishness had prevented his mingling with the neighboring +gentry. In spite of his great fortune he had been unsuccessful in an attempt to +gain the hand of the daughter of the parson, and had at length shrunk into the +limits of such society as a mere man of wealth can gather in a country +neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +He kept horses and hounds and a roaring table, at which were collected the +loose livers of the country round, and the shabby gentlemen of a village in the +vicinity. When he could get no other company he would smoke and drink with his +own servants, who in their turns fleeced and despised him. Still, with all this +apparent prodigality, he had a leaven of the old man in him, which showed that +he was his true-born son. He lived far within his income, was vulgar in his +expenses, and penurious on many points on which a gentleman would be +extravagant. His house servants were obliged occasionally to work on the +estate, and part of the pleasure grounds were ploughed up and devoted to +husbandry. +</p> + +<p> +His table, though plentiful, was coarse; his liquors strong and bad; and more +ale and whiskey were expended in his establishment than generous wine. He was +loud and arrogant at his own table, and exacted a rich man’s homage from his +vulgar and obsequious guests. +</p> + +<p> +As to Iron John, his old grandfather, he had grown impatient of the tight hand +his own grandson kept over him, and quarrelled with him soon after he came to +the estate. The old man had retired to a neighboring village where he lived on +the legacy of his late master, in a small cottage, and was as seldom seen out +of it as a rat out of his hole in daylight. +</p> + +<p> +The cub, like Caliban, seemed to have an instinctive attachment to his mother. +She resided with him; but, from long habit, she acted more as servant than as +mistress of the mansion; for she toiled in all the domestic drudgery, and was +oftener in the kitchen than the parlor. Such was the information which I +collected of my rival cousin, who had so unexpectedly elbowed me out of all my +expectations. +</p> + +<p> +I now felt an irresistible hankering to pay a visit to this scene of my +boyhood; and to get a peep at the odd kind of life that was passing within the +mansion of my maternal ancestors. I determined to do so in disguise. My booby +cousin had never seen enough of me to be very familiar with my countenance, and +a few years make great difference between youth and manhood. I understood he +was a breeder of cattle and proud of his stock. I dressed myself, therefore, as +a substantial farmer, and with the assistance of a red scratch that came low +down on my forehead, made a complete change in my physiognomy. +</p> + +<p> +It was past three o’clock when I arrived at the gate of the park, and Was +admitted by an old woman, who was washing in a dilapidated building which had +once been a porter’s lodge. I advanced up the remains of a noble avenue, many +of the trees of which had been cut down and sold for timber. The grounds were +in scarcely better keeping than during my uncle’s lifetime. The grass was +overgrown with weeds, and the trees wanted pruning and clearing of dead +branches. Cattle were grazing about the lawns, and ducks and geese swimming in +the fishponds. +</p> + +<p> +The road to the house bore very few traces of carriage wheels, as my cousin +received few visitors but such as came on foot or on horseback, and never used +a carriage himself. Once, indeed, as I was told, he had had the old family +carriage drawn out from among the dust and cobwebs of the coachhouse and +furbished up, and had drove, with his mother, to the village church to take +formal possession of the family pew; but there was such hooting and laughing +after them as they passed through the village, and such giggling and bantering +about the church door, that the pageant had never made a reappearance. +</p> + +<p> +As I approached the house, a legion of whelps sallied out barking at me, +accompanied by the low howling, rather than barking, of two old worn-out +bloodhounds, which I recognized for the ancient life-guards of my uncle. The +house had still a neglected, random appearance, though much altered for the +better since my last visit. Several of the windows were broken and patched up +with boards; and others had been bricked up to save taxes. I observed smoke, +however, rising from the chimneys; a phenomenon rarely witnessed in the ancient +establishment. On passing that part of the house where the dining-room was +situated, I heard the sound of boisterous merriment; where three or four voices +were talking at once, and oaths and laughter were horribly mingled. +</p> + +<p> +The uproar of the dogs had brought a servant to the door, a tall, hard-fisted +country clown, with a livery coat put over the under-garments of a ploughman. I +requested to see the master of the house, but was told he was at dinner with +some “gemmen” of the neighborhood. I made known my business and sent in to know +if I might talk with the master about his cattle; for I felt a great desire to +have a peep at him at his orgies. Word was returned that he was engaged with +company, and could not attend to business, but that if I would “step in and +take a drink of something, I was heartily welcome.” I accordingly entered the +hall, where whips and hats of all kinds and shapes were lying on an oaken +table, two or three clownish servants were lounging about; everything had a +look of confusion and carelessness. +</p> + +<p> +The apartments through which I passed had the same air of departed gentility +and sluttish housekeeping. The once rich curtains were faded and dusty; the +furniture greased and tarnished. On entering the dining-room I found a number +of odd, vulgar-looking, rustic gentlemen seated round a table, on which were +bottles, decanters, tankards, pipes, and tobacco. Several dogs were lying about +the room, or sitting and watching their masters, and one was gnawing a bone +under a side-table. +</p> + +<p> +The master of the feast sat at the head of the board. He was greatly altered. +He had grown thick-set and rather gummy, with a fiery, foxy head of hair. There +was a singular mixture of foolishness, arrogance, and conceit in his +countenance. He was dressed in a vulgarly fine style, with leather breeches, a +red waistcoat, and green coat, and was evidently, like his guests, a little +flushed with drinking. The whole company stared at me with a whimsical muggy +look, like men whose senses were a little obfuscated by beer rather than wine. +</p> + +<p> +My cousin, (God forgive me! the appellation sticks in my throat,) my cousin +invited me with awkward civility, or, as he intended it, condescension, to sit +to the table and drink. We talked, as usual, about the weather, the crops, +politics, and hard times. My cousin was a loud politician, and evidently +accustomed to talk without contradiction at his own table. He was amazingly +loyal, and talked of standing by the throne to the last guinea, “as every +gentleman of fortune should do.” The village exciseman, who was half asleep, +could just ejaculate, “very true,” to every thing he said. +</p> + +<p> +The conversation turned upon cattle; he boasted of his breed, his mode of +managing it, and of the general management of his estate. This unluckily drew +on a history of the place and of the family. He spoke of my late uncle with the +greatest irreverence, which I could easily forgive. He mentioned my name, and +my blood began to boil. He described my frequent visits to my uncle when I was +a lad, and I found the varlet, even at that time, imp as he was, had known that +he was to inherit the estate. +</p> + +<p> +He described the scene of my uncle’s death, and the opening of the will, with a +degree of coarse humor that I had not expected from him, and, vexed as I was, I +could not help joining in the laugh, for I have always relished a joke, even +though made at my own expense. He went on to speak of my various pursuits; my +strolling freak, and that somewhat nettled me. At length he talked of my +parents. He ridiculed my father: I stomached even that, though with great +difficulty. He mentioned my mother with a sneer—and in an instant he lay +sprawling at my feet. +</p> + +<p> +Here a scene of tumult succeeded. The table was nearly overturned. Bottles, +glasses, and tankards, rolled crashing and clattering about the floor. The +company seized hold of both of us to keep us from doing farther mischief. I +struggled to get loose, for I was boiling with fury. My cousin defied me to +strip and fight him on the lawn. I agreed; for I felt the strength of a giant +in me, and I longed to pummel him soundly. +</p> + +<p> +Away then we were borne. A ring was formed. I had a second assigned me in true +boxing style. My cousin, as he advanced to fight, said something about his +generosity in showing me such fair play, when I had made such an unprovoked +attack upon him at his own table. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop there!” cried I, in a rage—“unprovoked!—know that I am John Buckthorne, +and you have insulted the memory of my mother.” +</p> + +<p> +The lout was suddenly struck by what I said. He drew back and reflected for a +moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, damn it,” said he, “that’s too much—that’s clear another thing. I’ve a +mother myself, and no one shall speak ill of her, bad as she is.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused again. Nature seemed to have a rough struggle in his rude bosom. +</p> + +<p> +“Damn it, cousin,” cried he, “I’m sorry for what I said. Thou’st served me +right in knocking me down, and I like thee the better for it. Here’s my hand. +Come and live with me, and damme but the best room in the house, and the best +horse in the stable, shall be at thy service.” +</p> + +<p> +I declare to you I was strongly moved at this instance of nature breaking her +way through such a lump of flesh. I forgave the fellow in a moment all his +crimes of having been born in wedlock and inheriting my estate. I shook the +hand he offered me, to convince him that I bore him no ill will; and then +making my way through the gaping crowd of toad-eaters, bade adieu to my uncle’s +domains forever. This is the last I have seen or heard of my cousin, or of the +domestic concerns of Doubting Castle. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap15"></a>THE STROLLING MANAGER</h3> + +<p> +As I was walking one morning with Buckthorne, near one of the Principal +theaters, he directed my attention to a group of those equivocal beings that +may often be seen hovering about the stage-doors of theaters. They were +marvellously ill-favored in their attire, their coats buttoned up to their +chins; yet they wore their hats smartly on one side, and had a certain knowing, +dirty-gentlemanlike air, which is common to the subalterns of the drama. +Buckthorne knew them well by early experience. +</p> + +<p> +These, said he, are the ghosts of departed kings and heroes; fellows who sway +sceptres and truncheons; command kingdoms and armies; and after giving way +realms and treasures over night, have scarce a shilling to pay for a breakfast +in the morning. Yet they have the true vagabond abhorrence of all useful and +industrious employment; and they have their pleasures too: one of which is to +lounge in this way in the sunshine, at the stage-door, during rehearsals, and +make hackneyed theatrical jokes on all passers-by. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing is more traditional and legitimate than the stage. Old scenery, old +clothes, old sentiments, old ranting, and old jokes, are handed down from +generation to generation; and will probably continue to be so, until time shall +be no more. Every hanger-on of a theater becomes a wag by inheritance, and +flourishes about at tap-rooms and six-penny clubs, with the property jokes of +the green-room. +</p> + +<p> +While amusing ourselves with reconnoitring this group, we noticed one in +particular who appeared to be the oracle. He was a weather-beaten veteran, a +little bronzed by time and beer, who had no doubt, grown gray in the parts of +robbers, cardinals, Roman senators, and walking noblemen. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something in the set of that hat, and the turn of that physiognomy, +that is extremely familiar to me,” said Buckthorne. He looked a little closer. +“I cannot be mistaken,” added he, “that must be my old brother of the +truncheon, Flimsey, the tragic hero of the strolling company.” +</p> + +<p> +It was he in fact. The poor fellow showed evident signs that times went hard +with him; he was so finely and shabbily dressed. His coat was somewhat +threadbare, and of the Lord Townly cut; single-breasted, and scarcely capable +of meeting in front of his body; which, from long intimacy, had acquired the +symmetry and robustness of a beer-barrel. He wore a pair of dingy white +stockinet pantaloons, which had much ado to reach his waistcoat; a great +quantity of dirty cravat; and a pair of old russet-colored tragedy boots. +</p> + +<p> +When his companions had dispersed, Buckthorne drew him aside and made Himself +known to him. The tragic veteran could scarcely recognize him, or believe that +he was really his quondam associate “little gentleman Jack.” Buckthorne invited +him to a neighboring coffee-house to talk over old times; and in the course of +a little while we were put in possession of his history in brief. +</p> + +<p> +He had continued to act the heroes in the strolling company for some time after +Buckthorne had left it, or rather had been driven from it so abruptly. At +length the manager died, and the troop was thrown into confusion. Every one +aspired to the crown; every one was for taking the lead; and the manager’s +widow, although a tragedy queen, and a brimstone to boot, pronounced it utterly +impossible to keep any control over such a set of tempestuous rascallions. +</p> + +<p> +Upon this hint I spoke, said Flimsey—I stepped forward, and offered my services +in the most effectual way. They were accepted. In a week’s time I married the +widow and succeeded to the throne. “The funeral baked meats did coldly furnish +forth the marriage table,” as Hamlet says. But the ghost of my predecessor +never haunted me; and I inherited crowns, sceptres, bowls, daggers, and all the +stage trappings and trumpery, not omitting the widow, without the least +molestation. +</p> + +<p> +I now led a flourishing life of it; for our company was pretty strong And +attractive, and as my wife and I took the heavy parts of tragedy, it was a +great saving to the treasury. We carried off the palm from all the rival shows +at country fairs; and I assure you we have even drawn full houses, and being +applauded by the critics at Bartlemy fair itself, though we had Astley’s +troupe, the Irish giant, and “the death of Nelson” in wax-work to contend +against. +</p> + +<p> +I soon began to experience, however, the cares of command. I discovered that +there were cabals breaking out in the company, headed by the clown, who you may +recollect was a terribly peevish, fractious fellow, and always in ill-humor. I +had a great mind to turn him off at once, but I could not do without him, for +there was not a droller scoundrel on the stage. His very shape was comic, for +he had to turn his back upon the audience and all the ladies were ready to die +with laughing. He felt his importance, and took advantage of it. He would keep +the audience in a continual roar, and then come behind the scenes and fret and +fume and play the very devil. I excused a great deal in him, however, knowing +that comic actors are a little prone to this infirmity of temper. +</p> + +<p> +I had another trouble of a nearer and dearer nature to struggle with; which +was, the affection of my wife. As ill luck would have it, she took it into her +head to be very fond of me, and became intolerably jealous. I could not keep a +pretty girl in the company, and hardly dared embrace an ugly one, even when my +part required it. I have known her to reduce a fine lady to tatters, “to very +rags,” as Hamlet says, in an instant, and destroy one of the very best dresses +in the wardrobe; merely because she saw me kiss her at the side scenes;—though +I give you my honor it was done merely by way of rehearsal. +</p> + +<p> +This was doubly annoying, because I have a natural liking to pretty faces, and +wish to have them about me; and because they are indispensable to the success +of a company at a fair, where one has to vie with so many rival theatres. But +when once a jealous wife gets a freak in her head there’s no use in talking of +interest or anything else. Egad, sirs, I have more than once trembled when, +during a fit of her tantrums, she was playing high tragedy, and flourishing her +tin dagger on the stage, lest she should give way to her humor, and stab some +fancied rival in good earnest. +</p> + +<p> +I went on better, however, than could be expected, considering the weakness of +my flesh and the violence of my rib. I had not a much worse time of it than old +Jupiter, whose spouse was continually ferreting out some new intrigue and +making the heavens almost too hot to hold him. +</p> + +<p> +At length, as luck would have it, we were performing at a country fair, when I +understood the theatre of a neighboring town to be vacant. I had always been +desirous to be enrolled in a settled company, and the height of my desire was +to get on a par with a brother-in-law, who was manager of a regular theatre, +and who had looked down upon me. Here was an opportunity not to be neglected. I +concluded an agreement with the proprietors, and in a few days opened the +theatre with great eclát. +</p> + +<p> +Behold me now at the summit of my ambition, “the high top-gallant of my joy,” +as Thomas says. No longer a chieftain of a wandering tribe, but the monarch of +a legitimate throne—and entitled to call even the great potentates of Covent +Garden and Drury Lane cousin. +</p> + +<p> +You no doubt think my happiness complete. Alas, sir! I was one of the Most +uncomfortable dogs living. No one knows, who has not tried, the miseries of a +manager; but above all, of a country management—no one can conceive the +contentions and quarrels within doors, the oppressions and vexations from +without. +</p> + +<p> +I was pestered with the bloods and loungers of a country town, who infested my +green-room, and played the mischief among my actresses. But there was no +shaking them off. It would have been ruin to affront them; for, though +troublesome friends, they would have been dangerous enemies. Then there were +the village critics and village amateurs, who were continually tormenting me +with advice, and getting into a passion if I would not take it:—especially the +village doctor and the village attorney; who had both been to London +occasionally, and knew what acting should be. +</p> + +<p> +I had also to manage as arrant a crew of scapegraces as were ever collected +together within the walls of a theatre. I had been obliged to combine my +original troupe with some of the former troupe of the theatre, who were +favorites with the public. Here was a mixture that produced perpetual ferment. +They were all the time either fighting or frolicking with each other, and I +scarcely knew which mood was least troublesome. If they quarrelled, everything +went wrong; and if they were friends, they were continually playing off some +confounded prank upon each other, or upon me; for I had unhappily acquired +among them the character of an easy, good natured fellow, the worst character +that a manager can possess. +</p> + +<p> +Their waggery at times drove me almost crazy; for there is nothing so Vexatious +as the hackneyed tricks and hoaxes and pleasantries of a veteran band of +theatrical vagabonds. I relished them well enough, it is true, while I was +merely one of the company, but as manager I found them detestable. They were +incessantly bringing some disgrace upon the theatre by their tavern frolics, +and their pranks about the country town. All my lectures upon the importance of +keeping up the dignity of the profession, and the respectability of the company +were in vain. The villains could not sympathize with the delicate feelings of a +man in station. They even trifled with the seriousness of stage business. I +have had the whole piece interrupted, and a crowded audience of at least +twenty-five pounds kept waiting, because the actors had hid away the breeches +of Rosalind, and have known Hamlet stalk solemnly on to deliver his soliloquy, +with a dish-clout pinned to his skirts. Such are the baleful consequences of a +manager’s getting a character for good nature. +</p> + +<p> +I was intolerably annoyed, too, by the great actors who came down +<i>starring</i>, as it is called, from London. Of all baneful influences, keep +me from that of a London star. A first-rate actress going the rounds of the +country theatres, is as bad as a blazing comet, whisking about the heavens, and +shaking fire, and plagues, and discords from its tail. +</p> + +<p> +The moment one of these “heavenly bodies” appeared on my horizon, I was sure to +be in hot water. My theatre was overrun by provincial dandies, copper-washed +counterfeits of Bond street loungers; who are always proud to be in the train +of an actress from town, and anxious to be thought on exceeding good terms with +her. It was really a relief to me when some random young nobleman would come in +pursuit of the bait, and awe all this small fry to a distance. I have always +felt myself more at ease with a nobleman than with the dandy of a country town. +</p> + +<p> +And then the injuries I suffered in my personal dignity and my managerial +authority from the visits of these great London actors. Sir, I was no longer +master of myself or my throne. I was hectored and lectured in my own +green-room, and made an absolute nincompoop on my own stage. There is no tyrant +so absolute and capricious as a London star at a country theatre. +</p> + +<p> +I dreaded the sight of all of them; and yet if I did not engage them, I was +sure of having the public clamorous against me. They drew full houses, and +appeared to be making my fortune; but they swallowed up all the profits by +their insatiable demands. They were absolute tape-worms to my little theatre; +the more it took in, the poorer it grew. They were sure to leave me with an +exhausted public, empty benches, and a score or two of affronts to settle among +the townsfolk, in consequence of misunderstandings about the taking of places. +</p> + +<p> +But the worst thing I had to undergo in my managerial career was patronage. Oh, +sir, of all things deliver me from the patronage of the great people of a +country town. It was my ruin. You must know that this town, though small, was +filled with feuds, and parties, and great folks; being a busy little trading +and manufacturing town. The mischief was that their greatness was of a kind not +to be settled by reference to the court calendar, or college of heraldry. It +was therefore the most quarrelsome kind of greatness in existence. You smile, +sir, but let me tell you there are no feuds more furious than the frontier +feuds, which take place on these “debatable lands” of gentility. The most +violent dispute that I ever knew in high life, was one that occurred at a +country town, on a question of precedence between the ladies of a manufacturer +of pins and a manufacturer of needles. +</p> + +<p> +At the town where I was situated there were perpetual altercations of the kind. +The head manufacturer’s lady, for instance, was at daggers drawings with the +head shopkeeper’s, and both were too rich and had too many friends to be +treated lightly. The doctor’s and lawyer’s ladies held their heads still +higher; but they in their turn were kept in check by the wife of a country +banker, who kept her own carriage; while a masculine widow of cracked +character, and second-hand fashion, who lived in a large house, and was in some +way related to nobility, looked down upon them all. She had been exiled from +the great world, but here she ruled absolute. To be sure her manners were not +over-elegant, nor her fortune over-large; but then, sir, her blood—oh, her +blood carried it all hollow, there was no withstanding a woman with such blood +in her veins. +</p> + +<p> +After all, she had frequent battles for precedence at balls and assemblies, +with some of the sturdy dames of the neighborhood, who stood upon their wealth +and their reputations; but then she had two dashing daughters, who dressed as +fine as dragons, and had as high blood as their mother, and seconded her in +everything. So they carried their point with high heads, and every body hated, +abused, and stood in awe of the Fantadlins. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the state of the fashionable world in this self-important little town. +Unluckily I was not as well acquainted with its politics as I should have been. +I had found myself a stranger and in great perplexities during my first season; +I determined, therefore, to put myself under the patronage of some powerful +name, and thus to take the field with the prejudices of the public in my favor. +I cast round my thoughts for the purpose, and in an evil hour they fell upon +Mrs. Fantadlin. No one seemed to me to have a more absolute sway in the world +of fashion. I had always noticed that her party slammed the box door the +loudest at the theatre; had most beaux attending on them; and talked and +laughed loudest during the performance; and then the Miss Fantadlins wore +always more feathers and flowers than any other ladies; and used quizzing +glasses incessantly. The first evening of my theatre’s reopening, therefore, +was announced in flaring capitals on the play bills, “under the patronage of +the Honorable Mrs. Fantadlin,” +</p> + +<p> +Sir, the whole community flew to arms! The banker’s wife felt her Dignity +grievously insulted at not having the preference; her husband being high +bailiff, and the richest man in the place. She immediately issued invitations +for a large party, for the night of the performance, and asked many a lady to +it whom she never had noticed before. The fashionable world had long groaned +under the tyranny of the Fantadlins, and were glad to make a common cause +against this new instance of assumption.—Presume to patronize the theatre! +insufferable! Those, too, who had never before been noticed by the banker’s +lady, were ready to enlist in any quarrel, for the honor of her acquaintance. +All minor feuds were therefore forgotten. The doctor’s lady and the lawyer’s +lady met together; and the manufacturer’s lady and the shopkeeper’s lady kissed +each other, and all, headed by the banker’s lady, voted the theatre a +<i>bore</i>, and determined to encourage nothing but the Indian Jugglers, and +Mr. Walker’s Eidonianeon. +</p> + +<p> +Alas for poor Pillgarlick! I little knew the mischief that was brewing against +me. My box book remained blank. The evening arrived, but no audience. The music +struck up to a tolerable pit and gallery, but no fashionables! I peeped +anxiously from behind the curtain, but the time passed away; the play was +retarded until pit and gallery became furious; and I had to raise the curtain, +and play my greatest part in tragedy to “a beggarly account of empty boxes.” +</p> + +<p> +It is true the Fantadlins came late, as was their custom, and entered like a +tempest, with a flutter of feathers and red shawls; but they were evidently +disconcerted at finding they had no one to admire and envy them, and were +enraged at this glaring defection of their fashionable followers. All the +beau-monde were engaged at the banker’s lady’s rout. They remained for some +time in solitary and uncomfortable state, and though they had the theatre +almost to themselves, yet, for the first time, they talked in whispers. They +left the house at the end of the first piece, and I never saw them afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the rock on which I split. I never got over the patronage of the +Fantadlin family. It became the vogue to abuse the theatre and declare the +performers shocking. An equestrian troupe opened a circus in the town about the +same time, and rose on my ruins. My house was deserted; my actors grew +discontented because they were ill paid; my door became a hammering-place for +every bailiff in the county; and my wife became more and more shrewish and +tormenting, the more I wanted comfort. +</p> + +<p> +The establishment now became a scene of confusion and peculation. I Was +considered a ruined man, and of course fair game for every one to pluck at, as +every one plunders a sinking ship. Day after day some of the troupe deserted, +and like deserting soldiers, carried off their arms and accoutrements with +them. In this manner my wardrobe took legs and walked away; my finery strolled +all over the country; my swords and daggers glittered in every barn; until at +last my tailor made “one fell swoop,” and carried off three dress coats, half a +dozen doublets, and nineteen pair of flesh-colored pantaloons. +</p> + +<p> +This was the “be all and the end all” of my fortune. I no longer hesitated what +to do. Egad, thought I, since stealing is the order of the day, I’ll steal too. +So I secretly gathered together the jewels of my wardrobe; packed up a hero’s +dress in a handkerchief, slung it on the end of a tragedy sword, and quietly +stole off at dead of night—“the bell then beating one,”—leaving my queen and +kingdom to the mercy of my rebellious subjects, and my merciless foes, the +bum-bailiffs. +</p> + +<p> +Such, sir, was the “end of all my greatness.” I was heartily cured of All +passion for governing, and returned once more into the ranks. I had for some +time the usual run of an actor’s life. I played in various country theatres, at +fairs, and in barns; sometimes hard pushed; sometimes flush, until on one +occasion I came within an ace of making my fortune, and becoming one of the +wonders of the age. +</p> + +<p> +I was playing the part of Richard the Third in a country barn, and Absolutely +“out-Heroding Herod.” An agent of one of the great London theatres was present. +He was on the lookout for something that might be got up as a prodigy. The +theatre, it seems, was in desperate condition—nothing but a miracle could save +it. He pitched upon me for that miracle. I had a remarkable bluster in my +style, and swagger in my gait, and having taken to drink a little during my +troubles, my voice was somewhat cracked; so that it seemed like two voices run +into one. The thought struck the agent to bring me out as a theatrical wonder; +as the restorer of natural and legitimate acting; as the only one who could +understand and act Shakespeare rightly. He waited upon me the next morning, and +opened his plan. I shrunk from it with becoming modesty; for well as I thought +of myself, I felt myself unworthy of such praise. +</p> + +<p> +“’Sblood, man!” said he, “no praise at all. You don’t imagine that I think you +all this. I only want the public to think so. Nothing so easy as gulling the +public if you only set up a prodigy. You need not try to act well, you must +only act furiously. No matter what you do, or how you act, so that it be but +odd and strange. We will have all the pit packed, and the newspapers hired. +Whatever you do different from famous actors, it shall be insisted that you are +right and they were wrong. If you rant, it shall be pure passion; if you are +vulgar, it shall be a touch of nature. Every one shall be prepared to fall into +raptures, and shout and yell, at certain points which you shall make. If you do +but escape pelting the first night, your fortune and the fortune of the theatre +is made.” +</p> + +<p> +I set off for London, therefore, full of new hopes. I was to be the restorer of +Shakespeare and nature, and the legitimate drama; my very swagger was to be +heroic, and my cracked voice the standard of elocution. Alas, sir! my usual +luck attended me. Before I arrived in the metropolis, a rival wonder had +appeared. A woman who could dance the slack rope, and run up a cord from the +stage to the gallery with fire-works all round her. She was seized on by the +management with avidity; she was the saving of the great national theatre for +the season. Nothing was talked of but Madame Saqui’s fire-works and +flame-colored pantaloons; and nature, Shakespeare, the legitimate drama, and +poor Pillgarlick were completely left in the lurch. +</p> + +<p> +However, as the manager was in honor bound to provide for me, he kept his word. +It had been a turn-up of a die whether I should be Alexander the Great or +Alexander the copper-smith; the latter carried it. I could not be put at the +head of the drama, so I was put at the tail. In other words, I was enrolled +among the number of what are called useful men; who, let me tell you, are the +only comfortable actors on the stage. We are safe from hisses and below the +hope of applause. We fear not the success of rivals, nor dread the critic’s +pen. So long as we get the words of our parts, and they are not often many, it +is all we care for. We have our own merriment, our own friends, and our own +admirers; for every actor has his friends and admirers, from the highest to the +lowest. The first-rate actor dines with the noble amateur, and entertains a +fashionable table with scraps and songs and theatrical slip-slop. The +second-rate actors have their second-rate friends and admirers, with whom they +likewise spout tragedy and talk slip-slop; and so down even to us; who have our +friends and admirers among spruce clerks and aspiring apprentices, who treat us +to a dinner now and then, and enjoy at tenth hand the same scraps and songs and +slip-slop that have been served up by our more fortunate brethren at the tables +of the great. +</p> + +<p> +I now, for the first time in my theatrical life, knew what true pleasure is. I +have known enough of notoriety to pity the poor devils who are called favorites +of the public. I would rather be a kitten in the arms of a spoiled child, to be +one moment petted and pampered, and the next moment thumped over the head with +the spoon. I smile, too, to see our leading actors, fretting themselves with +envy and jealousy about a trumpery renown, questionable in its quality and +uncertain in its duration. I laugh, too, though of course in my sleeve, at the +bustle and importance and trouble and perplexities of our manager, who is +harassing himself to death in the hopeless effort to please every body. +</p> + +<p> +I have found among my fellow subalterns two or three quondam managers, who, +like myself, have wielded the sceptres of country theatres; and we have many a +sly joke together at the expense of the manager and the public. Sometimes, too, +we meet like deposed and exiled kings, talk over the events of our respective +reigns; moralize over a tankard of ale, and laugh at the humbug of the great +and little world; which, I take it, is the very essence of practical +philosophy. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Thus end the anecdotes of Buckthorne and his friends. A few mornings after our +hearing the history of the ex-manager, he bounced into my room before I was out +of bed. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me joy! give me joy!” said he, rubbing his hands with the utmost glee, +“my great expectations are realized!” +</p> + +<p> +I stared at him with a look of wonder and inquiry. “My booby cousin is dead!” +cried he, “may he rest in peace! He nearly broke his neck in a fall from his +horse in a fox-chase. By good luck he lived long enough to make his will. He +has made me his heir, partly out of an odd feeling of retributive justice, and +partly because, as he says, none of his own family or friends know how to enjoy +such an estate. I’m off to the country to take possession. I’ve done with +authorship.—That for the critics!” said he, snapping his fingers. “Come down to +Doubting Castle when I get settled, and egad! I’ll give you a rouse.” So saying +he shook me heartily by the hand and bounded off in high spirits. +</p> + +<p> +A long time elapsed before I heard from him again. Indeed, it was but a short +time since that I received a letter written in the happiest of moods. He was +getting the estate into fine order, everything went to his wishes, and what was +more, he was married to Sacharissa: who, it seems, had always entertained an +ardent though secret attachment for him, which he fortunately discovered just +after coming to his estate. +</p> + +<p> +“I find,” said he, “you are a little given to the sin of authorship which I +renounce. If the anecdotes I have given you of my story are of any interest, +you may make use of them; but come down to Doubting Castle and see how we live, +and I’ll give you my whole London life over a social glass; and a rattling +history it shall be about authors and reviewers.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +If ever I visit Doubting Castle, and get the history he promises, the Public +shall be sure to hear of it. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="part03"></a>PART THIRD<br/> +THE ITALIAN BANDITTI</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap16"></a>THE INN AT TERRACINA</h3> + +<p> +Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack! +</p> + +<p> +“Here comes the estafette from Naples,” said mine host of the inn at Terracina, +“bring out the relay.” +</p> + +<p> +The estafette came as usual galloping up the road, brandishing over his head a +short-handled whip, with a long knotted lash; every smack of which made a +report like a pistol. He was a tight square-set young fellow, in the customary +uniform—a smart blue coat, ornamented with facings and gold lace, but so short +behind as to reach scarcely below his waistband, and cocked up not unlike the +tail of a wren. A cocked hat, edged with gold lace; a pair of stiff riding +boots; but instead of the usual leathern breeches he had a fragment of a pair +of drawers that scarcely furnished an apology for modesty to hide behind. +</p> + +<p> +The estafette galloped up to the door and jumped from his horse. +</p> + +<p> +“A glass of rosolio, a fresh horse, and a pair of breeches,” said he, “and +quickly—I am behind my time, and must be off.” +</p> + +<p> +“San Genaro!” replied the host, “why, where hast thou left thy garment?” +</p> + +<p> +“Among the robbers between this and Fondi.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! rob an estafette! I never heard of such folly. What could they hope to +get from thee?” +</p> + +<p> +“My leather breeches!” replied the estafette. “They were bran new, and shone +like gold, and hit the fancy of the captain.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, these fellows grow worse and worse. To meddle with an estafette! And +that merely for the sake of a pair of leather breeches!” +</p> + +<p> +The robbing of a government messenger seemed to strike the host with More +astonishment than any other enormity that had taken place on the road; and +indeed it was the first time so wanton an outrage had been committed; the +robbers generally taking care not to meddle with any thing belonging to +government. +</p> + +<p> +The estafette was by this time equipped; for he had not lost an instant in +making his preparations while talking. The relay was ready: the rosolio tossed +off. He grasped the reins and the stirrup. +</p> + +<p> +“Were there many robbers in the band?” said a handsome, dark young man, +stepping forward from the door of the inn. +</p> + +<p> +“As formidable a band as ever I saw,” said the estafette, springing into the +saddle. +</p> + +<p> +“Are they cruel to travellers?” said a beautiful young Venetian lady, who had +been hanging on the gentleman’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Cruel, signora!” echoed the estafette, giving a glance at the lady as he put +spurs to his horse. “<i>Corpo del Bacco!</i> they stiletto all the men, and as +to the women—” +</p> + +<p> +Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack!—the last words were drowned in the smacking +of the whip, and away galloped the estafette along the road to the Pontine +marshes. +</p> + +<p> +“Holy Virgin!” ejaculated the fair Venetian, “what will become of us!” +</p> + +<p> +The inn of Terracina stands just outside of the walls of the old town of that +name, on the frontiers of the Roman territory. A little, lazy, Italian town, +the inhabitants of which, apparently heedless and listless, are said to be +little better than the brigands which surround them, and indeed are half of +them supposed to be in some way or other connected with the robbers. A vast, +rocky height rises perpendicularly above it, with the ruins of the castle of +Theodoric the Goth, crowning its summit; before it spreads the wide bosom of +the Mediterranean, that sea without flux or reflux. There seems an idle pause +in every thing about this place. The port is without a sail, excepting that +once in a while a solitary felucca may be seen, disgorging its holy cargo of +baccala, the meagre provision for the Quaresima or Lent. The naked watch +towers, rising here and there along the coast, speak of pirates and corsairs +which hover about these shores: while the low huts, as stations for soldiers, +which dot the distant road, as it winds through an olive grove, intimate that +in the ascent there is danger for the traveller and facility for the bandit. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, it is between this town and Fondi that the road to Naples is Mostly +infested by banditti. It winds among rocky and solitary places, where the +robbers are enabled to see the traveller from a distance from the brows of +hills or impending precipices, and to lie in wait for him, at the lonely and +difficult passes. +</p> + +<p> +At the time that the estafette made this sudden appearance, almost in +<i>cuerpo</i>, the audacity of the robbers had risen to an unparalleled height. +They had their spies and emissaries in every town, village, and osteria, to +give them notice of the quality and movements of travellers. They did not +scruple to send messages into the country towns and villas, demanding certain +sums of money, or articles of dress and luxury; with menaces of vengeance in +case of refusal. They had plundered carriages; carried people of rank and +fortune into the mountains and obliged them to write for heavy ransoms; and had +committed outrages on females who had fallen in their power. +</p> + +<p> +The police exerted its rigor in vain. The brigands were too numerous And +powerful for a weak police. They were countenanced and cherished by several of +the villages; and though now and then the limbs of malefactors hung blackening +in the trees near which they had committed some atrocity; or their heads stuck +upon posts in iron cages made some dreary part of the road still more dreary, +still they seemed to strike dismay into no bosom but that of the traveller. +</p> + +<p> +The dark, handsome young man; and the Venetian lady, whom I have mentioned, had +arrived early that afternoon in a private carriage, drawn by mules and attended +by a single servant. They had been recently married, were spending the +honeymoon in travelling through these delicious countries, and were on their +way to visit a rich aunt of the young lady’s at Naples. +</p> + +<p> +The lady was young, and tender and timid. The stories she had heard along the +road had filled her with apprehension, not more for herself than for her +husband; for though she had been married almost a month, she still loved him +almost to idolatry. When she reached Terracina the rumors of the road had +increased to an alarming magnitude; and the sight of two robbers’ skulls +grinning in iron cages on each side of the old gateway of the town brought her +to a pause. Her husband had tried in vain to reassure her. They had lingered +all the afternoon at the inn, until it was too late to think of starting that +evening, and the parting words of the estafette completed her affright. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us return to Rome,” said she, putting her arm within her husband’s, and +drawing towards him as if for protection—“let us return to Rome and give up +this visit to Naples.” +</p> + +<p> +“And give up the visit to your aunt, too,” said the husband. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay—what is my aunt in comparison with your safety,” said she, looking up +tenderly in his face. +</p> + +<p> +There was something in her tone and manner that showed she really was Thinking +more of her husband’s safety at that moment than of her own; and being recently +married, and a match of pure affection, too, it is very possible that she was. +At least her husband thought so. Indeed, any one who has heard the sweet, +musical tone of a Venetian voice, and the melting tenderness of a Venetian +phrase, and felt the soft witchery of a Venetian eye, would not wonder at the +husband’s believing whatever they professed. +</p> + +<p> +He clasped the white hand that had been laid within his, put his arm round her +slender waist, and drawing her fondly to his bosom—“This night at least,” said +he, “we’ll pass at Terracina.” +</p> + +<p> +Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack! +</p> + +<p> +Another apparition of the road attracted the attention of mine host and his +guests. From the road across the Pontine marshes, a carriage drawn by half a +dozen horses, came driving at a furious pace—the postillions smacking their +whips like mad, as is the case when conscious of the greatness or the +munificence of their fare. It was a landaulet, with a servant mounted on the +dickey. The compact, highly finished, yet proudly simple construction of the +carriage; the quantity of neat, well-arranged trunks and conveniences; the +loads of box coats and upper benjamins on the dickey—and the fresh, burly, +gruff-looking face at the window, proclaimed at once that it was the equipage +of an Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“Fresh horses to Fondi,” said the Englishman, as the landlord came bowing to +the carriage door. +</p> + +<p> +“Would not his Excellenza alight and take some refreshment?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—he did not mean to eat until he got to Fondi!” +</p> + +<p> +“But the horses will be some time in getting ready—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah.—that’s always the case—nothing but delay in this cursed country.” +</p> + +<p> +“If his Excellenza would only walk into the house—” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, no!—I tell you no!—I want nothing but horses, and as quick as +possible. John! see that the horses are got ready, and don’t let us be kept +here an hour or two. Tell him if we’re delayed over the time, I’ll lodge a +complaint with the postmaster.” +</p> + +<p> +John touched his hat, and set off to obey his master’s orders, with the +taciturn obedience of an English servant. He was a ruddy, round-faced fellow, +with hair cropped close; a short coat, drab breeches, and long gaiters; and +appeared to have almost as much contempt as his master for everything around +him. +</p> + +<p> +In the mean time the Englishman got out of the carriage and walked up and down +before the inn, with his hands in his pockets: taking no notice of the crowd of +idlers who were gazing at him and his equipage. He was tall, stout, and well +made; dressed with neatness and precision, wore a travelling-cap of the color +of gingerbread, and had rather an unhappy expression about the corners of his +mouth; partly from not having yet made his dinner, and partly from not having +been able to get on at a greater rate than seven miles an hour. Not that he had +any other cause for haste than an Englishman’s usual hurry to get to the end of +a journey; or, to use the regular phrase, “to get on.” +</p> + +<p> +After some time the servant returned from the stable with as sour a look as his +master. +</p> + +<p> +“Are the horses ready, John?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir—I never saw such a place. There’s no getting anything done. I think +your honor had better step into the house and get something to eat; it will be +a long while before we get to Fundy.” +</p> + +<p> +“D—n the house—it’s a mere trick—I’ll not eat anything, just to spite them,” +said the Englishman, still more crusty at the prospect of being so long without +his dinner. +</p> + +<p> +“They say your honor’s very wrong,” said John, “to set off at this late hour. +The road’s full of highwaymen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mere tales to get custom.” +</p> + +<p> +“The estafette which passed us was stopped by a whole gang,” said John, +increasing his emphasis with each additional piece of information. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe a word of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“They robbed him of his breeches,” said John, giving at the same time a hitch +to his own waist-band. +</p> + +<p> +“All humbug!” +</p> + +<p> +Here the dark, handsome young man stepped forward and addressing the Englishman +very politely in broken English, invited him to partake of a repast he was +about to make. “Thank’ee,” said the Englishman, thrusting his hands deeper into +his pockets, and casting a slight side glance of suspicion at the young man, as +if he thought from his civility he must have a design upon his purse. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall be most happy if you will do us that favor,” said the lady, in her +soft Venetian dialect. There was a sweetness in her accents that was most +persuasive. The Englishman cast a look upon her countenance; her beauty was +still more eloquent. His features instantly relaxed. He made an attempt at a +civil bow. “With great pleasure, signora,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +In short, the eagerness to “get on” was suddenly slackened; the determination +to famish himself as far as Fondi by way of punishing the landlord was +abandoned; John chose the best apartment in the inn for his master’s reception, +and preparations were made to remain there until morning. +</p> + +<p> +The carriage was unpacked of such of its contents as were indispensable for the +night. There was the usual parade of trunks and writing-desks, and portfolios, +and dressing-boxes, and those other oppressive conveniences which burden a +comfortable man. The observant loiterers about the inn door, wrapped up in +great dirt-colored cloaks, with only a hawk’s eye uncovered, made many remarks +to each other on this quantity of luggage that seemed enough for an army. And +the domestics of the inn talked with wonder of the splendid dressing-case, with +its gold and silver furniture that was spread out on the toilette table, and +the bag of gold that chinked as it was taken out of the trunk. The strange +“Milor’s” wealth, and the treasures he carried about him, were the talk, that +evening, over all Terracina. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman took some time to make his ablutions and arrange his dress for +table, and after considerable labor and effort in putting himself at his ease, +made his appearance, with stiff white cravat, his clothes free from the least +speck of dust, and adjusted with precision. He made a formal bow on entering, +which no doubt he meant to be cordial, but which any one else would have +considered cool, and took his seat. +</p> + +<p> +The supper, as it was termed by the Italian, or dinner, as the Englishman +called it, was now served. Heaven and earth, and the waters under the earth, +had been moved to furnish it, for there were birds of the air and beasts of the +earth and fish of the sea. The Englishman’s servant, too, had turned the +kitchen topsy-turvy in his zeal to cook his master a beefsteak; and made his +appearance loaded with ketchup, and soy, and Cayenne pepper, and Harvey sauce, +and a bottle of port wine, from that warehouse, the carriage, in which his +master seemed desirous of carrying England about the world with him. Every +thing, however, according to the Englishman, was execrable. The tureen of soup +was a black sea, with livers and limbs and fragments of all kinds of birds and +beasts, floating like wrecks about it. A meagre winged animal, which my host +called a delicate chicken, was too delicate for his stomach, for it had +evidently died of a consumption. The macaroni was smoked. The beefsteak was +tough buffalo’s flesh, and the countenance of mine host confirmed the +assertion. Nothing seemed to hit his palate but a dish of stewed eels, of which +he ate with great relish, but had nearly refunded them when told that they were +vipers, caught among the rocks of Terracina, and esteemed a great delicacy. +</p> + +<p> +In short, the Englishman ate and growled, and ate and growled, like a cat +eating in company, pronouncing himself poisoned by every dish, yet eating on in +defiance of death and the doctor. The Venetian lady, not accustomed to English +travellers, almost repented having persuaded him to the meal; for though very +gracious to her, he was so crusty to all the world beside, that she stood in +awe of him. There is nothing, however, that conquers John Bull’s crustiness +sooner than eating, whatever may be the cookery; and nothing brings him into +good humor with his company sooner than eating together; the Englishman, +therefore, had not half finished his repast and his bottle, before he began to +think the Venetian a very tolerable fellow for a foreigner, and his wife almost +handsome enough to be an Englishwoman. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of the repast the tales of robbers which harassed the mind of the +fair Venetian, were brought into discussion. The landlord and the waiter served +up such a number of them as they served up the dishes, that they almost +frightened away the poor lady’s appetite. Among these was the story of the +school of Terracina, still fresh in every mind, where the students were carried +up the mountains by the banditti, in hopes of ransom, and one of them +massacred, to bring the parents to terms for the others. There was a story also +of a gentleman of Rome, who delayed remitting the ransom demanded for his son, +detained by the banditti, and received one of his son’s ears in a letter with +information that the other would be remitted to him soon, if the money were not +forthcoming, and that in this way he would receive the boy by instalments until +he came to terms. +</p> + +<p> +The fair Venetian shuddered as she heard these tales. The landlord, like a true +story-teller, doubled the dose when he saw how it operated. He was just +proceeding to relate the misfortunes of a great English lord and his family, +when the Englishman, tired of his volubility, testily interrupted him, and +pronounced these accounts mere traveller’s tales, or the exaggerations of +peasants and innkeepers. The landlord was indignant at the doubt levelled at +his stories, and the innuendo levelled at his cloth; he cited half a dozen +stories still more terrible, to corroborate those he had already told. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe a word of them,” said the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“But the robbers had been tried and executed.” +</p> + +<p> +“All a farce!” +</p> + +<p> +“But their heads were stuck up along the road.” +</p> + +<p> +“Old skulls accumulated during a century.” +</p> + +<p> +The landlord muttered to himself as he went out at the door, “San Genaro, come +sono singolari questi Inglesi.” +</p> + +<p> +A fresh hubbub outside of the inn announced the arrival of more travellers; and +from the variety of voices, or rather clamors, the clattering of horses’ hoofs, +the rattling of wheels, and the general uproar both within and without, the +arrival seemed to be numerous. It was, in fact, the procaccio, and its convoy—a +kind of caravan of merchandise, that sets out on stated days, under an escort +of soldiery to protect it from the robbers. Travellers avail themselves of the +occasion, and many carriages accompany the procaccio. It was a long time before +either landlord or waiter returned, being hurried away by the tempest of new +custom. When mine host appeared, there was a smile of triumph on his +countenance.—“Perhaps,” said he, as he cleared away the table, “perhaps the +signor has not heard of what has happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said the Englishman, drily. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the procaccio has arrived, and has brought accounts of fresh exploits of +the robbers, signor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pish!” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s more news of the English Milor and his family,” said the host, +emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +“An English lord.-What English lord?” +</p> + +<p> +“Milor Popkin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lord Popkin? I never heard of such a title!” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>O Sicuro</i>—a great nobleman that passed through here lately with his +Milady and daughters—a magnifico—one of the grand councillors of London—un +almanno.” +</p> + +<p> +“Almanno—almanno?—tut! he means alderman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sicuro, aldermanno Popkin, and the principezza Popkin, and the signorina +Popkin!” said mine host, triumphantly. He would now have entered into a full +detail, but was thwarted by the Englishman, who seemed determined not to credit +or indulge him in his stories. An Italian tongue, however, is not easily +checked: that of mine host continued to run on with increasing volubility as he +conveyed the fragments of the repast out of the room, and the last that could +be distinguished of his voice, as it died away along the corridor, was the +constant recurrence of the favorite word Popkin—Popkin—Popkin—pop—pop—pop. +</p> + +<p> +The arrival of the procaccio had indeed filled the house with stories as it had +with guests. The Englishman and his companions walked out after supper into the +great hall, or common room of the inn, which runs through the centre building; +a gloomy, dirty-looking apartment, with tables placed in various parts of it, +at which some of the travellers were seated in groups, while others strolled +about in famished impatience for their evening’s meal. As the procaccio was a +kind of caravan of travellers, there were people of every class and country, +who had come in all kinds of vehicles; and though they kept in some measure in +separate parties, yet the being united under one common escort had jumbled them +into companionship on the road. Their formidable number and the formidable +guard that accompanied them, had prevented any molestation from the banditti; +but every carriage had its tale of wonder, and one vied with another in the +recital. Not one but had seen groups of robbers peering over the rocks; or +their guns peeping out from among the bushes, or had been reconnoitred by some +suspicious-looking fellow with scowling eye, who disappeared on seeing the +guard. +</p> + +<p> +The fair Venetian listened to all these stories with that eager curiosity with +which we seek to pamper any feeling of alarm. Even the Englishman began to feel +interested in the subject, and desirous of gaining more correct information +than these mere flying reports. +</p> + +<p> +He mingled in one of the groups which appeared to be the most respectable, and +which was assembled round a tall, thin person, with long Roman nose, a high +forehead, and lively prominent eye, beaming from under a green velvet +travelling-cap with gold tassel. He was holding forth with all the fluency of a +man who talks well and likes to exert his talent. He was of Rome; a surgeon by +profession, a poet by choice, and one who was something of an improvvisatore. +He soon gave the Englishman abundance of information respecting the banditti. +</p> + +<p> +“The fact is,” said he, “that many of the people in the villages among the +mountains are robbers, or rather the robbers find perfect asylum among them. +They range over a vast extent of wild impracticable country, along the chain of +Apennines, bordering on different states; they know all the difficult passes, +the short cuts and strong-holds. They are secure of the good-will of the poor +and peaceful inhabitants of those regions, whom they never disturb, and whom +they often enrich. Indeed, they are looked upon as a sort of illegitimate +heroes among the mountain villages, and some of the frontier towns, where they +dispose of their plunder. From these mountains they keep a look-out upon the +plains and valleys, and meditate their descents.” +</p> + +<p> +“The road to Fondi, which you are about to travel, is one of the places most +noted for their exploits. It is overlooked from some distance by little +hamlets, perched upon heights. From hence, the brigands, like hawks in their +nests, keep on the watch for such travellers as are likely to afford either +booty or ransom. The windings of the road enable them to see carriages long +before they pass, so that they have time to get to some advantageous +lurking-place from whence to pounce upon their prey.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why does not the police interfere and root them out?” said the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“The police is too weak and the banditti are too strong,” replied the +improvvisatore. “To root them out would be a more difficult task than you +imagine. They are connected and identified with the people of the villages and +the peasantry generally; the numerous bands have an understanding with each +other, and with people of various conditions in all parts of the country. They +know all that is going on; a <i>gens d’armes</i> cannot stir without their +being aware of it. They have their spies and emissaries in every direction; +they lurk about towns, villages, inns,—mingle in every crowd, pervade every +place of resort. I should not be surprised,” said he, “if some one should be +supervising us at this moment.” +</p> + +<p> +The fair Venetian looked round fearfully and turned pale. +</p> + +<p> +“One peculiarity of the Italian banditti” continued the improvvisatore, “is +that they wear a kind of uniform, or rather costume, which designates their +profession. This is probably done to take away from its skulking lawless +character, and to give it something of a military air in the eyes of the common +people; or perhaps to catch by outward dash and show the fancies of the young +men of the villages. These dresses or costumes are often rich and fanciful. +Some wear jackets and breeches of bright colors, richly embroidered; broad +belts of cloth; or sashes of silk net; broad, high-crowned hats, decorated with +feathers of variously-colored ribbands, and silk nets for the hair. +</p> + +<p> +“Many of the robbers are peasants who follow ordinary occupations in the +villages for a part of the year, and take to the mountains for the rest. Some +only go out for a season, as it were, on a hunting expedition, and then resume +the dress and habits of common life. Many of the young men of the villages take +to this kind of life occasionally from a mere love of adventure, the wild +wandering spirit of youth and the contagion of bad example; but it is remarked +that they can never after brook a long continuance in settled life. They get +fond of the unbounded freedom and rude license they enjoy; and there is +something in this wild mountain life checquered by adventure and peril, that is +wonderfully fascinating, independent of the gratification of cupidity by the +plunder of the wealthy traveller.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the improvvisatore was interrupted by a lively Neapolitan lawyer. “Your +mention of the younger robbers,” said he, “puts me in mind of an adventure of a +learned doctor, a friend of mine, which happened in this very neighborhood.” +</p> + +<p> +A wish was of course expressed to hear the adventure of the doctor by all +except the improvvisatore, who, being fond of talking and of hearing himself +talk, and accustomed moreover to harangue without interruption, looked rather +annoyed at being checked when in full career. +</p> + +<p> +The Neapolitan, however, took no notice of his chagrin, but related The +following anecdote. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap17"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY</h3> + +<p> +My friend the doctor was a thorough antiquary: a little, rusty, musty Old +fellow, always groping among ruins. He relished a building as you Englishmen +relish a cheese, the more mouldy and crumbling it was, the more it was to his +taste. A shell of an old nameless temple, or the cracked walls of a broken-down +amphitheatre, would throw him into raptures; and he took more delight in these +crusts and cheese parings of antiquity than in the best-conditioned, modern +edifice. +</p> + +<p> +He had taken a maggot into his brain at one time to hunt after the Ancient +cities of the Pelasgi which are said to exist to this day among the mountains +of the Abruzzi; but the condition of which is strangely unknown to the +antiquaries. It is said that he had made a great many valuable notes and +memorandums on the subject, which he always carried about with him, either for +the purpose of frequent reference, or because he feared the precious documents +might fall into the hands of brother antiquaries. He had therefore a large +pocket behind, in which he carried them, banging against his rear as he walked. +</p> + +<p> +Be this as it may; happening to pass a few days at Terracina, in the course of +his researches, he one day mounted the rocky cliffs which overhang the town, to +visit the castle of Theodoric. He was groping about these ruins, towards the +hour of sunset, buried in his reflections,—his wits no doubt wool-gathering +among the Goths and Romans, when he heard footsteps behind him. +</p> + +<p> +He turned and beheld five or six young fellows, of rough, saucy demeanor, clad +in a singular manner, half peasant, half huntsman, with fusils in their hands. +Their whole appearance and carriage left him in no doubt into what company he +had fallen. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor was a feeble little man poor, in look and poorer in purse. He had +but little money in his pocket; but he had certain valuables, such as an old +silver watch, thick as a turnip, with figures on it large enough for a clock, +and a set of seals at the end of a steel chain, that dangled half down to his +knees; all which were of precious esteem, being family reliques. He had also a +seal ring, a veritable antique intaglio, that covered half his knuckles; but +what he most valued was, the precious treatise on the Pelasgian cities, which, +he would gladly have given all the money in his pocket to have had safe at the +bottom of his trunk in Terracina. +</p> + +<p> +However, he plucked up a stout heart; at least as stout a heart as he could, +seeing that he was but a puny little man at the hest of times. So he wished the +hunters a “buon giorno.” They returned his salutation, giving the old gentleman +a sociable slap on the back that made his heart leap into his throat. +</p> + +<p> +They fell into conversation, and walked for some time together among The +heights, the doctor wishing them all the while at the bottom of the crater of +Vesuvius. At length they came to a small osteria on the mountain, where they +proposed to enter and have a cup of wine together. The doctor consented; though +he would as soon have been invited to drink hemlock. +</p> + +<p> +One of the gang remained sentinel at the door; the others swaggered into the +house; stood their fusils in a corner of the room; and each drawing a pistol or +stiletto out of his belt, laid it, with some emphasis, on the table. They now +called lustily for wine; drew benches round the table, and hailing the doctor +as though he had been a boon companion of long standing, insisted upon his +sitting down and making merry. He complied with forced grimace, but with fear +and trembling; sitting on the edge of his bench; supping down heartburn with +every drop of liquor; eyeing ruefully the black muzzled pistols, and cold, +naked stilettos. They pushed the bottle bravely, and plied him vigorously; +sang, laughed, told excellent stories of robberies and combats, and the little +doctor was fain to laugh at these cut-throat pleasantries, though his heart was +dying away at the very bottom of his bosom. +</p> + +<p> +By their own account they were young men from the villages, who had Recently +taken up this line of life in the mere wild caprice of youth. They talked of +their exploits as a sportsman talks of his amusements. To shoot down a +traveller seemed of little more consequence to them than to shoot a hare. They +spoke with rapture of the glorious roving life they led; free as birds; here +to-day, gone to-morrow; ranging the forests, climbing the rocks, scouring the +valleys; the world their own wherever they could lay hold of it; full purses, +merry companions; pretty women.—The little antiquary got fuddled with their +talk and their wine, for they did not spare bumpers. He half forgot his fears, +his seal ring, and his family watch; even the treatise on the Pelasgian cities +which was warming under him, for a time faded from his memory, in the glowing +picture which they drew. He declares that he no longer wonders at the +prevalence of this robber mania among the mountains; for he felt at the time, +that had he been a young man and a strong man, and had there been no danger of +the galleys in the background, he should have been half tempted himself to turn +bandit. +</p> + +<p> +At length the fearful hour of separating arrived. The doctor was suddenly +called to himself and his fears, by seeing the robbers resume their weapons. He +now quaked for his valuables, and above all for his antiquarian treatise. He +endeavored, however, to look cool and unconcerned; and drew from out of his +deep pocket a long, lank, leathern purse, far gone in consumption, at the +bottom of which a few coin chinked with the trembling of his hand. +</p> + +<p> +The chief of the party observed this movement; and laying his hand upon the +antiquary’s shoulder—“Harkee! Signor Dottore!” said he, “we have drank together +as friends and comrades, let us part as such. We understand you; we know who +and what you are; for we know who every body is that sleeps at Terracina, or +that puts foot upon the road. You are a rich man, but you carry all your wealth +in your head. We can’t get at it, and we should not know what to do with it, if +we could. I see you are uneasy about your ring; but don’t worry your mind; it +is not worth taking; you think it an antique, but it’s a counterfeit—a mere +sham.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the doctor would have put in a word, for his antiquarian pride was +touched. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, nay,” continued the other, “we’ve no time to dispute about it. Value it +as you please. Come, you are a brave little old signor—one more cup of wine and +we’ll pay the reckoning. No compliments—I insist on it. So—now make the best of +your way back to Terracina; it’s growing late—buono viaggio!—and harkee, take +care how you wander among these mountains.” +</p> + +<p> +They shouldered their fusils, sprang gaily up the rocks, and the little doctor +hobbled back to Terracina, rejoicing that the robbers had let his seal ring, +his watch, and his treatise escape unmolested, though rather nettled that they +should have pronounced his veritable intaglio a counterfeit. +</p> + +<p> +The improvvisatore had shown many symptoms of impatience during this recital. +He saw his theme in danger of being taken out of his hands by a rival +story-teller, which to an able talker is always a serious grievance; it was +also in danger of being taken away by a Neapolitan, and that was still more +vexatious; as the members of the different Italian states have an incessant +jealousy of each other in all things, great and small. He took advantage of the +first pause of the Neapolitan to catch hold again of the thread of the +conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“As I was saying,” resumed he, “the prevalence of these banditti is so +extensive; their power so combined and interwoven with other ranks of society—” +</p> + +<p> +“For that matter,” said the Neapolitan, “I have heard that your government has +had some understanding with these gentry, or at least winked at them.” +</p> + +<p> +“My government?” said the Roman, impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye—they say that Cardinal Gonsalvi—” +</p> + +<p> +“Hush!” said the Roman, holding up his finger, and rolling his large eyes about +the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay-I only repeat what I heard commonly rumored in Rome,” replied the other, +sturdily. “It was whispered that the Cardinal had been up to the mountain, and +had an interview with some of the chiefs. And I have been told that when honest +people have been kicking their heels in the Cardinal’s anti-chamber, waiting by +the hour for admittance, one of these stiletto-looking fellows has elbowed his +way through the crowd, and entered without ceremony into the Cardinal’s +presence. +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” replied the Roman, “that there have been such reports; and it is not +impossible that government may have made use of these men at particular +periods, such as at the time of your abortive revolution, when your carbonari +were so busy with their machinations all over the country. The information that +men like these could collect, who were familiar, not merely with all the +recesses and secret places of the mountains, but also with all the dark and +dangerous recesses of society, and knew all that was plotting in the world of +mischief; the utility of such instruments in the hands of government was too +obvious to be overlooked, and Cardinal Gonsalvi as a politic statesman, may, +perhaps, have made use of them; for it is well known the robbers, with all +their atrocities, are respectful towards the church, and devout in their +religion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Religion!—religion?” echoed the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—religion!” repeated the improvvisatore. “Scarce one of them but will cross +himself and say his prayers when he hears in his mountain fastness the matin or +the <i>ave maria</i> bells sounding from the valleys. They will often confess +themselves to the village priests, to obtain absolution; and occasionally visit +the village churches to pray at some favorite shrine. I recollect an instance +in point: I was one evening in the village of Frescati, which lies below the +mountains of Abruzzi. The people, as usual in fine evenings in our Italian +towns and villages, were standing about in groups in the public square, +conversing and amusing themselves. I observed a tall, muscular fellow, wrapped +in a great mantle, passing across the square, but skulking along in the dark, +as if avoiding notice. The people, too, seemed to draw back as he passed. It +was whispered to me that he was a notorious bandit.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why was he not immediately seized?” said the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“Because it was nobody’s business; because nobody wished to incur the vengeance +of his comrades; because there were not sufficient <i>gens d’armes</i> near to +insure security against the numbers of desperadoes he might have at hand; +because the <i>gens d’armes</i> might not have received particular instructions +with respect to him, and might not feel disposed to engage in the hazardous +conflict without compulsion. In short, I might give you a thousand reasons, +rising out of the state of our government and manners, not one of which after +all might appear satisfactory.” +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman shrugged his shoulders with an air of contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“I have been told,” added the Roman, rather quickly, “that even in your +metropolis of London, notorious thieves, well known to the police as such, walk +the streets at noon-day, in search of their prey, and are not molested unless +caught in the very act of robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman gave another shrug, but with a different expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, I fixed my eye on this daring wolf thus prowling through the fold, +and saw him enter a church. I was curious to witness his devotions. You know +our spacious, magnificent churches. The one in which he entered was vast and +shrouded in the dusk of evening. At the extremity of the long aisles a couple +of tapers feebly glimmered on the grand altar. In one of the side chapels was a +votive candle placed before the image of a saint. Before this image the robber +had prostrated himself. His mantle partly falling off from his shoulders as he +knelt, revealed a form of Herculean strength; a stiletto and pistol glittered +in his belt, and the light falling on his countenance showed features not +unhandsome, but strongly and fiercely charactered. As he prayed he became +vehemently agitated; his lips quivered; sighs and murmurs, almost groans burst +from him; he beat his breast with violence, then clasped his hands and wrung +them convulsively as he extended them towards the image. Never had I seen such +a terrific picture of remorse. I felt fearful of being discovered by him, and +withdrew. Shortly after I saw him issue from the church wrapped in his mantle; +he recrossed the square, and no doubt returned to his mountain with +disburthened conscience, ready to incur a fresh arrear of crime.” +</p> + +<p> +The conversation was here taken up by two other travellers, recently arrived, +Mr. Hobbs and Mr. Dobbs, a linen-draper and a green-grocer, just returning from +a tour in Greece and the Holy Land: and who were full of the story of Alderman +Popkins. They were astonished that the robbers should dare to molest a man of +his importance on ’change; he being an eminent dry-salter of Throgmorton +street, and a magistrate to boot. +</p> + +<p> +In fact, the story of the Popkins family was but too true; it was attested by +too many present to be for a moment doubted; and from the contradictory and +concordant testimony of half a score, all eager to relate it, the company were +enabled to make out all the particulars. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap18"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE POPKINS FAMILY</h3> + +<p> +It was but a few days before that the carriage of Alderman Popkins had driven +up to the inn of Terracina. Those who have seen an English family carriage on +the continent, must know the sensation it produces. It is an epitome of +England; a little morsel of the old island rolling about the world—every thing +so compact, so snug, so finished and fitting. The wheels that roll on patent +axles without rattling; the body that hangs so well on its springs, yielding to +every motion, yet proof against every shock. The ruddy faces gaping out of the +windows; sometimes of a portly old citizen, sometimes of a voluminous dowager, +and sometimes of a fine fresh hoyden, just from boarding school. And then the +dickeys loaded with well-dressed servants, beef-fed and bluff; looking down +from their heights with contempt on all the world around; profoundly ignorant +of the country and the people, and devoutly certain that every thing not +English must be wrong. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the carriage of Alderman Popkins, as it made its appearance at +Terracina. The courier who had preceded it, to order horses, and who was a +Neapolitan, had given a magnificent account of the riches and greatness of his +master, blundering with all an Italian’s splendor of imagination about the +alderman’s titles and dignities; the host had added his usual share of +exaggeration, so that by the time the alderman drove up to the door, he was +Milor—Magnifico—Principe—the Lord knows what! +</p> + +<p> +The alderman was advised to take an escort to Fondi and Itri, but he refused. +It was as much as a man’s life was worth, he said, to stop him on the king’s +highway; he would complain of it to the ambassador at Naples; he would make a +national affair of it. The principezza Popkins, a fresh, motherly dame, seemed +perfectly secure in the protection of her husband, so omnipotent a man in the +city. The signorini Popkins, two fine bouncing girls, looked to their brother +Tom, who had taken lessons in boxing; and as to the dandy himself, he was sure +no scaramouch of an Italian robber would dare to meddle with an Englishman. The +landlord shrugged his shoulders and turned out the palms of his hands with a +true Italian grimace, and the carriage of Milor Popkins rolled on. +</p> + +<p> +They passed through several very suspicious places without any molestation. The +Misses Popkins, who were very romantic, and had learnt to draw in water colors, +were enchanted with the savage scenery around; it was so like what they had +read in Mrs. Radcliffe’s romances, they should like of all things to make +sketches. At length, the carriage arrived at a place where the road wound up a +long hill. Mrs. Popkins had sunk into a sleep; the young ladies were reading +the last works of Sir Walter Scott and Lord Byron, and the dandy was hectoring +the postilions from the coach box. The Alderman got out, as he said, to stretch +his legs up the hill. It was a long winding ascent, and obliged him every now +and then to stop and blow and wipe his forehead with many a pish! and phew! +being rather pursy and short of wind. As the carriage, however, was far behind +him, and toiling slowly under the weight of so many well-stuffed trunks and +well-stuffed travellers, he had plenty of time to walk at leisure. +</p> + +<p> +On a jutting point of rock that overhung the road nearly at the summit of the +hill, just where the route began again to descend, he saw a solitary man +seated, who appeared to be tending goats. Alderman Popkins was one of your +shrewd travellers that always like to be picking up small information along the +road, so he thought he’d just scramble up to the honest man, and have a little +talk with him by way of learning the news and getting a lesson in Italian. As +he drew near to the peasant he did not half like his looks. He was partly +reclining on the rocks wrapped in the usual long mantle, which, with his +slouched hat, only left a part of a swarthy visage, with a keen black eye, a +beetle brow, and a fierce moustache to be seen. He had whistled several times +to his dog which was roving about the side of the hill. As the Alderman +approached he rose and greeted him. When standing erect he seemed almost +gigantic, at least in the eyes of Alderman Popkins; who, however, being a short +man, might be deceived. +</p> + +<p> +The latter would gladly now have been back in the carriage, or even on ’change +in London, for he was by no means well pleased with his company. However, he +determined to put the best face on matters, and was beginning a conversation +about the state of the weather, the baddishness of the crops, and the price of +goats in that part of the country, when he heard a violent screaming. He ran to +the edge of the rock, and, looking over, saw away down the road his carriage +surrounded by robbers. One held down the fat footman, another had the dandy by +his starched cravat, with a pistol to his head; one was rummaging a +portmanteau, another rummaging the principezza’s pockets, while the two Misses +Popkins were screaming from each window of the carriage, and their waiting maid +squalling from the dickey. +</p> + +<p> +Alderman Popkins felt all the fury of the parent and the magistrate Roused +within him. He grasped his cane and was on the point of scrambling down the +rocks, either to assault the robbers or to read the riot act, when he was +suddenly grasped by the arm. It was by his friend the goatherd, whose cloak, +falling partly off, discovered a belt stuck full of pistols and stilettos. In +short, he found himself in the clutches of the captain of the band, who had +stationed himself on the rock to look out for travellers and to give notice to +his men. +</p> + +<p> +A sad ransacking took place. Trunks were turned inside out, and all the finery +and the frippery of the Popkins family scattered about the road. Such a chaos +of Venice beads and Roman mosaics; and Paris bonnets of the young ladies, +mingled with the alderman’s night-caps and lamb’s wool stockings, and the +dandy’s hair-brushes, stays, and starched cravats. +</p> + +<p> +The gentlemen were eased of their purses and their watches; the ladies of their +jewels, and the whole party were on the point of being carried up into the +mountain, when fortunately the appearance of soldiery at a distance obliged the +robbers to make off with the spoils they had secured, and leave the Popkins +family to gather together the remnants of their effects, and make the best of +their way to Fondi. +</p> + +<p> +When safe arrived, the alderman made a terrible blustering at the inn; +threatened to complain to the ambassador at Naples, and was ready to shake his +cane at the whole country. The dandy had many stories to tell of his scuffles +with the brigands, who overpowered him merely by numbers. As to the Misses +Popkins, they were quite delighted with the adventure, and were occupied the +whole evening in writing it in their journals. They declared the captain of the +band to be a most romantic-looking man; they dared to say some unfortunate +lover, or exiled nobleman: and several of the band to be very handsome young +men—“quite picturesque!” +</p> + +<p> +“In verity,” said mine host of Terracina, “they say the captain of the band is +<i>un galant uomo</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“A gallant man!” said the Englishman. “I’d have your gallant man hang’d like a +dog!” +</p> + +<p> +“To dare to meddle with Englishmen!” said Mr. Hobbs. +</p> + +<p> +“And such a family as the Popkinses!” said Mr. Dobbs. +</p> + +<p> +“They ought to come upon the country for damages!” said Mr. Hobbs. +</p> + +<p> +“Our ambassador should make a complaint to the government of Naples,” said Mr. +Dobbs. +</p> + +<p> +“They should be requested to drive these rascals out of the country,” said +Hobbs. +</p> + +<p> +“If they did not, we should declare war against them!” said Dobbs. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman was a little wearied by this story, and by the ultra zeal of his +countrymen, and was glad when a summons to their supper relieved him from a +crowd of travellers. He walked out with his Venetian friends and a young +Frenchman of an interesting demeanor, who had become sociable with them in the +course of the conversation. They directed their steps toward the sea, which was +lit up by the rising moon. The Venetian, out of politeness, left his beautiful +wife to be escorted by the Englishman. The latter, however, either from shyness +or reserve, did not avail himself of the civility, but walked on without +offering his arm. The fair Venetian, with all her devotion to her husband, was +a little nettled at a want of gallantry to which her charms had rendered her +unaccustomed, and took the proffered arm of the Frenchman with a pretty air of +pique, which, however, was entirely lost upon the phlegmatic delinquent. +</p> + +<p> +Not far distant from the inn they came to where there was a body of soldiers on +the beach, encircling and guarding a number of galley slaves, who were +permitted to refresh themselves in the evening breeze, and to sport and roll +upon the sand. +</p> + +<p> +“It was difficult,” the Frenchman observed, “to conceive a more frightful mass +of crime than was here collected. The parricide, the fratricide, the +infanticide, who had first fled from justice and turned mountain bandit, and +then, by betraying his brother desperadoes, had bought a commutation of +punishment, and the privilege of wallowing on the shore for an hour a day, with +this wretched crew of miscreants!” +</p> + +<p> +The remark of the Frenchman had a strong effect upon the company, particularly +upon the Venetian lady, who shuddered as she cast a timid look at this horde of +wretches at their evening relaxation. “They seemed,” she said, “like so many +serpents, wreathing and twisting together.” +</p> + +<p> +The Frenchman now adverted to the stories they had been listening to at the +inn, adding, that if they had any further curiosity on the subject, he could +recount an adventure which happened to himself among the robbers and which +might give them some idea of the habits and manners of those beings. There was +an air of modesty and frankness about the Frenchman which had gained the +good-will of the whole party, not even excepting the Englishman. They all +gladly accepted his proposition; and as they strolled slowly up and down the +seashore, he related the following adventure. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap19"></a>THE PAINTER’S ADVENTURE</h3> + +<p> +I am an historical painter by profession, and resided for some time in the +family of a foreign prince, at his villa, about fifteen miles from Rome, among +some of the most interesting scenery of Italy. It is situated on the heights of +ancient Tusculum. In its neighborhood are the ruins of the villas of Cicero, +Sulla, Lucullus, Rufinus, and other illustrious Romans, who sought refuge here +occasionally, from their toils, in the bosom of a soft and luxurious repose. +From the midst of delightful bowers, refreshed by the pure mountain breeze, the +eye looks over a romantic landscape full of poetical and historical +associations. The Albanian mountains, Tivoli, once the favorite residence of +Horace and Maecenas; the vast deserted Campagna with the Tiber running through +it, and St. Peter’s dome swelling in the midst, the monument—as it were, over +the grave of ancient Rome. +</p> + +<p> +I assisted the prince in the researches he was making among the classic ruins +of his vicinity. His exertions were highly successful. Many wrecks of admirable +statues and fragments of exquisite sculpture were dug up; monuments of the +taste and magnificence that reigned in the ancient Tusculan abodes. He had +studded his villa and its grounds with statues, relievos, vases, and +sarcophagi; thus retrieved from the bosom of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +The mode of life pursued at the villa was delightfully serene, diversified by +interesting occupations and elegant leisure. Every one passed the day according +to his pleasure or occupation; and we all assembled in a cheerful dinner party +at sunset. It was on the fourth of November, a beautiful serene day, that we +had assembled in the saloon at the sound of the first dinner-bell. The family +were surprised at the absence of the prince’s confessor. They waited for him in +vain, and at length placed themselves at table. They first attributed his +absence to his having prolonged his customary walk; and the first part of the +dinner passed without any uneasiness. When the dessert was served, however, +without his making his appearance, they began to feel anxious. They feared he +might have been taken ill in some alley of the woods; or, that he might have +fallen into the hands of robbers. At the interval of a small valley rose the +mountains of the Abruzzi, the strong-hold of banditti. Indeed, the neighborhood +had, for some time, been infested by them; and Barbone, a notorious bandit +chief, had often been met prowling about the solitudes of Tusculum. The daring +enterprises of these ruffians were well known; the objects of their cupidity or +vengeance were insecure even in palaces. As yet they had respected the +possessions of the prince; but the idea of such dangerous spirits hovering +about the neighbourhood was sufficient to occasion alarm. +</p> + +<p> +The fears of the company increased as evening closed in. The prince ordered out +forest guards, and domestics with flambeaux to search for the confessor. They +had not departed long, when a slight noise was heard in the corridor of the +ground floor. The family were dining on the first floor, and the remaining +domestics were occupied in attendance. There was no one on the ground floor at +this moment but the house keeper, the laundress, and three field laborers, who +were resting themselves, and conversing with the women. +</p> + +<p> +I heard the noise from below, and presuming it to be occasioned by the return +of the absentee, I left the table, and hastened down stairs, eager to gain +intelligence that might relieve the anxiety of the prince and princess. I had +scarcely reached the last step, when I beheld before me a man dressed as a +bandit; a carbine in his hand, and a stiletto and pistols in his belt. His +countenance had a mingled expression of ferocity and trepidation. He sprang +upon me, and exclaimed exultingly, “Ecco il principe!” +</p> + +<p> +I saw at once into what hands I had fallen, but endeavored to summon up +coolness and presence of mind. A glance towards the lower end of the corridor +showed me several ruffians, clothed and armed in the same manner with the one +who had seized me. They were guarding the two females and the field laborers. +The robber, who held me firmly by the collar, demanded repeatedly whether or +not I were the prince. His object evidently was to carry off the prince, and +extort an immense ransom. He was enraged at receiving none but vague replies; +for I felt the importance of misleading him. +</p> + +<p> +A sudden thought struck me how I might extricate myself from his clutches. I +was unarmed, it is true, but I was vigorous. His companions were at a distance. +By a sudden exertion I might wrest myself from him and spring up the staircase, +whither he would not dare to follow me singly. The idea was put in execution as +soon as conceived. The ruffian’s throat was bare: with my right hand I seized +him by it, just between the mastoides; with my left hand I grasped the arm +which held the carbine. The suddenness of my attack took him completely +unawares; and the strangling nature of my grasp paralyzed him. He choked and +faltered. I felt his hand relaxing its hold, and was on the point of jerking +myself away and darting up the staircase before he could recover himself, when +I was suddenly seized by some one from behind. +</p> + +<p> +I had to let go my grasp. The bandit, once more released, fell upon me with +fury, and gave me several blows with the butt end of his carbine, one of which +wounded me severely in the forehead, and covered me with blood. He took +advantage of my being stunned to rifle me of my watch and whatever valuables I +had about my person. +</p> + +<p> +When I recovered from the effects of the blow, I heard the voice of the chief +of the banditti, who exclaimed “Quello e il principe, siamo contente, audiamo!” +(It is the prince, enough, let us be off.) The band immediately closed round me +and dragged me out of the palace, bearing off the three laborers likewise. +</p> + +<p> +I had no hat on, and the blood was flowing from my wound; I managed to staunch +it, however, with my pocket-handkerchief, which I bound round my forehead. The +captain of the band conducted me in triumph, supposing me to be the prince. We +had gone some distance before he learnt his mistake from one of the laborers. +His rage was terrible. It was too late to return to the villa and endeavor to +retrieve his error, for by this time the alarm must have been given, and every +one in arms. He darted at me a furious look; swore I had deceived him, and +caused him to miss his fortune; and told me to prepare for death. The rest of +the robbers were equally furious. I saw their hands upon their poinards; and I +knew that death was seldom an empty menace with these ruffians. +</p> + +<p> +The laborers saw the peril into which their information had betrayed me, and +eagerly assured the captain that I was a man for whom the prince would pay a +great ransom. This produced a pause. For my part, I cannot say that I had been +much dismayed by their menaces. I mean not to make any boast of courage; but I +have been so schooled to hardship during the late revolutions, and have beheld +death around me in so many perilous and disastrous scenes that I have become, +in some measure callous to its terrors. The frequent hazard of life makes a man +at length as reckless of it as a gambler of his money. To their threat of +death, I replied: “That the sooner it was executed, the better.” This reply +seemed to astonish the captain, and the prospect of ransom held out by the +laborers, had, no doubt, a still greater effect on him. He considered for a +moment; assumed a calmer manner, and made a sign to his companions, who had +remained waiting for my death warrant. “Forward,” said he, “we will see about +this matter by and bye.” +</p> + +<p> +We descended rapidly towards the road of la Molara, which leads to Rocca +Priori. In the midst of this road is a solitary inn. The captain ordered the +troop to halt at the distance of a pistol shot from it; and enjoined profound +silence. He then approached the threshold alone with noiseless steps. He +examined the outside of the door very narrowly, and then returning +precipitately, made a sign for the troop to continue its march in silence. It +has since been ascertained that this was one of those infamous inns which are +the secret resorts of banditti. The innkeeper had an understanding with the +captain, as he most probably had with the chiefs of the different bands. When +any of the patroles and gens d’armes were quartered at his house, the brigands +were warned of it by a preconcerted signal on the door; when there was no such +signal, they might enter with safety and be sure of welcome. Many an isolated +inn among the lonely parts of the Roman territories, and especially on the +skirts of the mountains, have the same dangerous and suspicious character. They +are places where the banditti gather information; where they concert their +plans, and where the unwary traveller, remote from hearing or assistance, is +sometimes betrayed to the stiletto of the midnight murderer. +</p> + +<p> +After pursuing our road a little farther, we struck off towards the Woody +mountains which envelope Rocca Priori. Our march was long and painful, with +many circuits and windings; at length we clambered a steep ascent, covered with +a thick forest, and when we had reached the centre, I was told to seat myself +on the earth. No sooner had I done so, than at a sign from their chief, the +robbers surrounded me, and spreading their great cloaks from one to the other, +formed a kind of pavilion of mantles, to which their bodies might be said to +seem as columns. The captain then struck a light, and a flambeau was lit +immediately. The mantles were extended to prevent the light of the flambeau +from being seen through the forest. Anxious as was my situation, I could not +look round upon this screen of dusky drapery, relieved by the bright colors of +the robbers’ under-dresses, the gleaming of their weapons, and the variety of +strong-marked countenances, lit up by the flambeau, without admiring the +picturesque effect of the scene. It was quite theatrical. +</p> + +<p> +The captain now held an ink-horn, and giving me pen and paper, ordered me to +write what he should dictate. I obeyed. It was a demand, couched in the style +of robber eloquence, “that the prince should send three thousand dollars for my +ransom, or that my death should be the consequence of a refusal.” +</p> + +<p> +I knew enough of the desperate character of these beings to feel assured this +was not an idle menace. Their only mode of insuring attention to their demands, +is to make the infliction of the penalty inevitable. I saw at once, however, +that the demand was preposterous, and made in improper language. +</p> + +<p> +I told the captain so, and assured him, that so extravagant a sum would never +be granted; that I was neither friend or relative of the prince, but a mere +artist, employed to execute certain paintings. That I had nothing to offer as a +ransom but the price of my labors; if this were not sufficient, my life was at +their disposal: it was a thing on which I sat but little value. +</p> + +<p> +I was the more hardy in my reply, because I saw that coolness and hardihood had +an effect upon the robbers. It is true, as I finished speaking the captain laid +his hand upon his stiletto, but he restrained himself, and snatching the +letter, folded it, and ordered me, in a peremptory tone, to address it to the +prince. He then despatched one of the laborers with it to Tusculum, who +promised to return with all possible speed. +</p> + +<p> +The robbers now prepared themselves for sleep, and I was told that I might do +the same. They spread their great cloaks on the ground, and lay down around me. +One was stationed at a little distance to keep watch, and was relieved every +two hours. The strangeness and wildness of this mountain bivouac, among lawless +beings whose hands seemed ever ready to grasp the stiletto, and with whom life +was so trivial and insecure, was enough to banish repose. The coldness of the +earth and of the dew, however, had a still greater effect than mental causes in +disturbing my rest. The airs wafted to these mountains from the distant +Mediterranean diffused a great chilliness as the night advanced. An expedient +suggested itself. I called one of my fellow prisoners, the laborers, and made +him lie down beside me. Whenever one of my limbs became chilled I approached it +to the robust limb of my neighbor, and borrowed some of his warmth. In this way +I was able to obtain a little sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Day at length dawned, and I was roused from my slumber by the voice of the +chieftain. He desired me to rise and follow him. I obeyed. On considering his +physiognomy attentively, it appeared a little softened. He even assisted me in +scrambling up the steep forest among rocks and brambles. Habit had made him a +vigorous mountaineer; but I found it excessively toilsome to climb those rugged +heights. We arrived at length at the summit of the mountain. +</p> + +<p> +Here it was that I felt all the enthusiasm of my art suddenly awakened; and I +forgot, in an instant, all perils and fatigues at this magnificent view of the +sunrise in the midst of the mountains of Abruzzi. It was on these heights that +Hannibal first pitched his camp, and pointed out Rome to his followers. The eye +embraces a vast extent of country. The minor height of Tusculum, with its +villas, and its sacred ruins, lie below; the Sabine hills and the Albanian +mountains stretch on either hand, and beyond Tusculum and Frescati spreads out +the immense Campagna, with its line of tombs, and here and there a broken +aqueduct stretching across it, and the towers and domes of the eternal city in +the midst. +</p> + +<p> +Fancy this scene lit up by the glories of a rising sun, and bursting upon my +sight, as I looked forth from among the majestic forests of the Abruzzi. Fancy, +too, the savage foreground, made still more savage by groups of the banditti, +armed and dressed in their wild, picturesque manner, and you will not wonder +that the enthusiasm of a painter for a moment overpowered all his other +feelings. +</p> + +<p> +The banditti were astonished at my admiration of a scene which familiarity had +made so common in their eyes. I took advantage of their halting at this spot, +drew forth a quire of drawing-paper, and began to sketch the features of the +landscape. The height, on which I was seated, was wild and solitary, separated +from the ridge of Tusculum by a valley nearly three miles wide; though the +distance appeared less from the purity of the atmosphere. This height was one +of the favorite retreats of the banditti, commanding a look-out over the +country; while, at the same time, it was covered with forests, and distant from +the populous haunts of men. +</p> + +<p> +While I was sketching, my attention was called off for a moment by the cries of +birds and the bleatings of sheep. I looked around, but could see nothing of the +animals that uttered them. They were repeated, and appeared to come from the +summits of the trees. On looking more narrowly, I perceived six of the robbers +perched on the tops of oaks, which grew on the breezy crest of the mountain, +and commanded an uninterrupted prospect. From hence they were keeping a +look-out, like so many vultures; casting their eyes into the depths of the +valley below us; communicating; with each other by signs, or holding discourse +in sounds, which might be mistaken by the wayfarer for the cries of hawks and +crows, or the bleating of the mountain flocks. After they had reconnoitred the +neighborhood, and finished their singular discourse, they descended from their +airy perch, and returned to their prisoners. The captain posted three of them +at three naked sides of the mountain, while he remained to guard us with what +appeared his most trusty companion. +</p> + +<p> +I had my book of sketches in my hand; he requested to see it, and after having +run his eye over it, expressed himself convinced of the truth of my assertion, +that I was a painter. I thought I saw a gleam of good feeling dawning in him, +and determined to avail myself of it. I knew that the worst of men have their +good points and their accessible sides, if one would but study them carefully. +Indeed, there is a singular mixture in the character of the Italian robber. +With reckless ferocity, he often mingles traits of kindness and good humor. He +is often not radically bad, but driven to his course of life by some +unpremeditated crime, the effect of those sudden bursts of passion to which the +Italian temperament is prone. This has compelled him to take to the mountains, +or, as it is technically termed among them, “andare in Campagna.” He has become +a robber by profession; but like a soldier, when not in action, he can lay +aside his weapon and his fierceness, and become like other men. +</p> + +<p> +I took occasion from the observations of the captain on my sketchings, to fall +into conversation with him. I found him sociable and communicative. By degrees +I became completely at my ease with him. I had fancied I perceived about him a +degree of self-love, which I determined to make use of. I assumed an air of +careless frankness, and told him that, as artist, I pretended to the power of +judging of the physiognomy; that I thought I perceived something in his +features and demeanor which announced him worthy of higher fortunes. That he +was not formed to exercise the profession to which he had abandoned himself; +that he had talents and qualities fitted for a nobler sphere of action; that he +had but to change his course of life, and in a legitimate career, the same +courage and endowments which now made him an object of terror, would ensure him +the applause and admiration of society. +</p> + +<p> +I had not mistaken my man. My discourse both touched and excited him. He seized +my hand, pressed it, and replied with strong emotion, “You have guessed the +truth; you have judged me rightly.” He remained for a moment silent; then with +a kind of effort he resumed. “I will tell you some particulars of my life, and +you will perceive that it was the oppression of others, rather than my own +crimes, that drove me to the mountains. I sought to serve my fellow-men, and +they have persecuted me from among them.” We seated ourselves on the grass, and +the robber gave me the following anecdotes of his history. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap20"></a>THE STORY OF THE BANDIT CHIEFTAIN</h3> + +<p> +I am a native of the village of Prossedi. My father was easy enough In +circumstances, and we lived peaceably and independently, cultivating our +fields. All went on well with us until a new chief of the sbirri was sent to +our village to take command of the police. He was an arbitrary fellow, prying +into every thing, and practising all sorts of vexations and oppressions in the +discharge of his office. +</p> + +<p> +I was at that time eighteen years of age, and had a natural love of justice and +good neighborhood. I had also a little education, and knew something of +history, so as to be able to judge a little of men and their actions. All this +inspired me with hatred for this paltry despot. My own family, also, became the +object of his suspicion or dislike, and felt more than once the arbitrary abuse +of his power. These things worked together on my mind, and I gasped after +vengeance. My character was always ardent and energetic; and acted upon by my +love of justice, determined me by one blow to rid the country of the tyrant. +</p> + +<p> +Full of my project I rose one morning before peep of day, and concealing a +stiletto under my waistcoat—here you see it!—(and he drew forth a long keen +poniard)—I lay in wait for him in the outskirts of the village. I knew all his +haunts, and his habit of making his rounds and prowling about like a wolf, in +the gray of the morning; at length I met him, and attacked him with fury. He +was armed, but I took him unawares, and was full of youth and vigor. I gave him +repeated blows to make sure work, and laid him lifeless at my feet. +</p> + +<p> +When I was satisfied that I had done for him, I returned with all haste to the +village, but had the ill-luck to meet two of the sbirri as I entered it. They +accosted me and asked if I had seen their chief. I assumed an air of +tranquillity, and told them I had not. They continued on their way, and, within +a few hours, brought back the dead body to Prossedi. Their suspicions of me +being already awakened, I was arrested and thrown into prison. Here I lay +several weeks, when the prince, who was Seigneur of Prossedi, directed judicial +proceedings against me. I was brought to trial, and a witness was produced who +pretended to have seen me not far from the bleeding body, and flying with +precipitation, so I was condemned to the galleys for thirty years. +</p> + +<p> +“Curse on such laws,” vociferated the bandit, foaming with rage; “curse on such +a government, and ten thousand curses on the prince who caused me to be +adjudged so rigorously, while so many other Roman princes harbor and protect +assassins a thousand times more culpable. What had I done but what was inspired +by a love of justice and my country? Why was my act more culpable than that of +Brutus, when he sacrificed Caesar to the cause of liberty and justice?” +</p> + +<p> +There was something at once both lofty and ludicrous in the rhapsody of this +robber chief, thus associating himself with one of the great names of +antiquity. It showed, however, that he had at least the merit of knowing the +remarkable facts in the history of his country. He became more calm, and +resumed his narrative. +</p> + +<p> +I was conducted to Civita Vecchia in fetters. My heart was burning with rage. I +had been married scarce six months to a woman whom I passionately loved, and +who was pregnant. My family was in despair. For a long time I made unsuccessful +efforts to break my chain. At length I found a morsel of iron which I hid +carefully, endeavored with a pointed flint to fashion it into a kind of file. I +occupied myself in this work during the night-time, and when it was finished, I +made out, after a long time, to sever one of the rings of my chain. My flight +was successful. +</p> + +<p> +I wandered for several weeks in the mountains which surround Prossedi, and +found means to inform my wife of the place where I was concealed. She came +often to see me. I had determined to put myself at the head of an armed band. +She endeavored for a long time to dissuade me; but finding my resolution fixed, +she at length united in my project of vengeance, and brought me, herself, my +poniard. +</p> + +<p> +By her means I communicated with several brave fellows of the Neighboring +villages, who I knew to be ready to take to the mountains, and only panting for +an opportunity to exercise their daring spirits. We soon formed a combination, +procured arms, and we have had ample opportunities of revenging ourselves for +the wrongs and injuries which most of us have suffered. Every thing has +succeeded with us until now, and had it not been for our blunder in mistaking +you for the prince, our fortunes would have been made. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Here the robber concluded his story. He had talked himself into companionship, +and assured me he no longer bore me any grudge for the error of which I had +been the innocent cause. He even professed a kindness for me, and wished me to +remain some time with them. He promised to give me a sight of certain grottos +which they occupied beyond Villetri, and whither they resorted during the +intervals of their expeditions. He assured me that they led a jovial life +there; had plenty of good cheer; slept on beds of moss, and were waited upon by +young and beautiful females, whom I might take for models. +</p> + +<p> +I confess I felt my curiosity roused by his descriptions of these grottos and +their inhabitants; they realized those scenes in robber-story which I had +always looked upon as mere creations of the fancy. I should gladly have +accepted his invitation, and paid a visit to those caverns, could I have felt +more secure in my company. +</p> + +<p> +I began to find my situation less painful. I had evidently propitiated the +good-will of the chieftain, and hoped that he might release me for a moderate +ransom. A new alarm, however, awaited me. While the captain was looking out +with impatience for the return of the messenger who had been sent to the +prince, the sentinel who had been posted on the side of the mountain facing the +plain of la Molara, came running towards us with precipitation. “We are +betrayed!” exclaimed he. “The police of Frescati are after us. A party of +carabiniers have just stopped at the inn below the mountain.” Then laying his +hand on his stiletto, he swore, with a terrible oath, that if they made the +least movement towards the mountains, my life and the lives of my +fellow-prisoners should answer for it. +</p> + +<p> +The chieftain resumed all his ferocity of demeanor, and approved of what his +companion said; but when the latter had returned to his post, he turned to me +with a softened air: “I must act as chief,” said he, “and humor my dangerous +subalterns. It is a law with us to kill our prisoners rather than suffer them +to be rescued; but do not be alarmed. In case we are surprised keep by me; fly +with us, and I will consider myself responsible for your life.” +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing very consolatory in this arrangement, which would have placed +me between two dangers; I scarcely knew, in case of flight, which I should have +most to apprehend from, the carbines of the pursuers, or the stilettos of the +pursued. I remained silent, however, and endeavored to maintain a look of +tranquillity. +</p> + +<p> +For an hour was I kept in this state of peril and anxiety. The robbers, +crouching among their leafy coverts, kept an eagle watch upon the carabiniers +below, as they loitered about the inn; sometimes lolling about the portal; +sometimes disappearing for several minutes, then sallying out, examining their +weapons, pointing in different directions and apparently asking questions about +the neighborhood; not a movement or gesture was last upon the keen eyes of the +brigands. At length we were relieved from our apprehensions. The carabiniers +having finished their refreshment, seized their arms, continued along the +valley towards the great road, and gradually left the mountain behind them. “I +felt almost certain,” said the chief, “that they could not be sent after us. +They know too well how prisoners have fared in our hands on similar occasions. +Our laws in this respect are inflexible, and are necessary for our safety. If +we once flinched from them, there would no longer be such thing as a ransom to +be procured.” +</p> + +<p> +There were no signs yet of the messenger’s return. I was preparing to resume my +sketching, when the captain drew a quire of paper from his knapsack—“Come,” +said he, laughing, “you are a painter; take my likeness. The leaves of your +portfolio are small; draw it on this.” I gladly consented, for it was a study +that seldom presents itself to a painter. I recollected that Salvator Rosa in +his youth had voluntarily sojourned for a time among the banditti of Calabria, +and had filled his mind with the savage scenery and savage associates by which +he was surrounded. I seized my pencil with enthusiasm at the thought. I found +the captain the most docile of subjects, and after various shifting of +positions, I placed him in an attitude to my mind. +</p> + +<p> +Picture to yourself a stern, muscular figure, in fanciful bandit costume, with +pistols and poniards in belt, his brawny neck bare, a handkerchief loosely +thrown around it, and the two ends in front strung with rings of all kinds, the +spoils of travellers; reliques and medals hung on his breast; his hat decorated +with various-colored ribbands; his vest and short breeches of bright colors and +finely embroidered; his legs in buskins or leggins. Fancy him on a mountain +height, among wild rocks and rugged oaks, leaning on his carbine as if +meditating some exploit, while far below are beheld villages and villas, the +scenes of his maraudings, with the wide Campagna dimly extending in the +distance. +</p> + +<p> +The robber was pleased with the sketch, and seemed to admire himself upon +paper. I had scarcely finished, when the laborer arrived who had been sent for +my ransom. He had reached Tusculum two hours after midnight. He brought me a +letter from the prince, who was in bed at the time of his arrival. As I had +predicted, he treated the demand as extravagant, but offered five hundred +dollars for my ransom. Having no money by him at the moment, he had sent a note +for the amount, payable to whomever should conduct me safe and sound to Rome. I +presented the note of hand to the chieftain; he received it with a shrug. “Of +what use are notes of hand to us?” said he, “who can we send with you to Rome +to receive it? We are all marked men, known and described at every gate and +military post, and village church-door. No, we must have gold and silver; let +the sum be paid in cash and you shall be restored to liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +The captain again placed a sheet of paper before me to communicate His +determination to the prince. When I had finished the letter and took the sheet +from the quire, I found on the opposite side of it the portrait which I had +just been tracing. I was about to tear it off and give it to the chief. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold,” said he, “let it go to Rome; let them see what kind of looking fellow I +am. Perhaps the prince and his friends may form as good an opinion of me from +my face as you have done.” +</p> + +<p> +This was said sportively, yet it was evident there was vanity lurking at the +bottom. Even this wary, distrustful chief of banditti forgot for a moment his +usual foresight and precaution in the common wish to be admired. He never +reflected what use might be made of this portrait in his pursuit and +conviction. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was folded and directed, and the messenger departed again For +Tusculum. It was now eleven o’clock in the morning, and as yet we had eaten +nothing. In spite of all my anxiety, I began to feel a craving appetite. I was +glad, therefore, to hear the captain talk something of eating. He observed that +for three days and nights they had been lurking about among rocks and woods, +meditating their expedition to Tusculum, during which all their provisions had +been exhausted. He should now take measures to procure a supply. Leaving me, +therefore, in the charge of his comrade, in whom he appeared to have implicit +confidence, he departed, assuring me, that in less than two hours we should +make a good dinner. Where it was to come from was an enigma to me, though it +was evident these beings had their secret friends and agents throughout the +country. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, the inhabitants of these mountains and of the valleys which they +embosom are a rude, half civilized set. The towns and villages among the +forests of the Abruzzi, shut up from the rest of the world, are almost like +savage dens. It is wonderful that such rude abodes, so little known and +visited, should be embosomed in the midst of one of the most travelled and +civilized countries of Europe. Among these regions the robber prowls +unmolested; not a mountaineer hesitates to give him secret harbor and +assistance. The shepherds, however, who tend their flocks among the mountains, +are the favorite emissaries of the robbers, when they would send messages down +to the valleys either for ransom or supplies. The shepherds of the Abruzzi are +as wild as the scenes they frequent. They are clad in a rude garb of black or +brown sheep-skin; they have high conical hats, and coarse sandals of cloth +bound round their legs with thongs, similar to those worn by the robbers. They +carry long staffs, on which as they lean they form picturesque objects in the +lonely landscape, and they are followed by their ever-constant companion, the +dog. They are a curious, questioning set, glad at any time to relieve the +monotony of their solitude by the conversation of the passerby, and the dog +will lend an attentive ear, and put on as sagacious and inquisitive a look as +his master. +</p> + +<p> +But I am wandering from my story. I was now left alone with one of the robbers, +the confidential companion of the chief. He was the youngest and most vigorous +of the band, and though his countenance had something of that dissolute +fierceness which seems natural to this desperate, lawless mode of life, yet +there were traits of manly beauty about it. As an artist I could not but admire +it. I had remarked in him an air of abstraction and reverie, and at times a +movement of inward suffering and impatience. He now sat on the ground; his +elbows on his knees, his head resting between his clenched fists, and his eyes +fixed on the earth with an expression of sad and bitter rumination. I had grown +familiar with him from repeated conversations, and had found him superior in +mind to the rest of the band. I was anxious to seize every opportunity of +sounding the feelings of these singular beings. I fancied I read in the +countenance of this one traces of self-condemnation and remorse; and the ease +with which I had drawn forth the confidence of the chieftain encouraged me to +hope the same with his followers. +</p> + +<p> +After a little preliminary conversation, I ventured to ask him if he did not +feel regret at having abandoned his family and taken to this dangerous +profession. “I feel,” replied he, “but one regret, and that will end only with +my life;” as he said this he pressed his clenched fists upon his bosom, drew +his breath through his set teeth, and added with deep emotion, “I have +something within here that stifles me; it is like a burning iron consuming my +very heart. I could tell you a miserable story, but not now—another time.”—He +relapsed into his former position, and sat with his head between his hands, +muttering to himself in broken ejaculations, and what appeared at times to be +curses and maledictions. I saw he was not in a mood to be disturbed, so I left +him to himself. In a little time the exhaustion of his feelings, and probably +the fatigues he had undergone in this expedition, began to produce drowsiness. +He struggled with it for a time, but the warmth and sultriness of mid-day made +it irresistible, and he at length stretched himself upon the herbage and fell +asleep. +</p> + +<p> +I now beheld a chance of escape within my reach. My guard lay before me at my +mercy. His vigorous limbs relaxed by sleep; his bosom open for the blow; his +carbine slipped from his nerveless grasp, and lying by his side; his stiletto +half out of the pocket in which it was usually carried. But two of his comrades +were in sight, and those at a considerable distance, on the edge of the +mountain; their backs turned to us, and their attention occupied in keeping a +look-out upon the plain. Through a strip of intervening forest, and at the foot +of a steep descent, I beheld the village of Rocca Priori. To have secured the +carbine of the sleeping brigand, to have seized upon his poniard and have +plunged it in his heart, would have been the work of an instant. Should he die +without noise, I might dart through the forest and down to Rocca Priori before +my flight might be discovered. In case of alarm, I should still have a fair +start of the robbers, and a chance of getting beyond the reach of their shot. +</p> + +<p> +Here then was an opportunity for both escape and vengeance; perilous, indeed, +but powerfully tempting. Had my situation been more critical I could not have +resisted it. I reflected, however, for a moment. The attempt, if successful, +would be followed by the sacrifice of my two fellow prisoners, who were +sleeping profoundly, and could not be awakened in time to escape. The laborer +who had gone after the ransom might also fall a victim to the rage of the +robbers, without the money which he brought being saved. Besides, the conduct +of the chief towards me made me feel certain of speedy deliverance. These +reflections overcame the first powerful impulse, and I calmed the turbulent +agitation which it had awakened. +</p> + +<p> +I again took out my materials for drawing, and amused myself with sketching the +magnificent prospect. It was now about noon, and every thing seemed sunk into +repose, like the bandit that lay sleeping before me. The noon-tide stillness +that reigned over these mountains, the vast landscape below, gleaming with +distant towns and dotted with various habitations and signs of life, yet all so +silent, had a powerful effect upon my mind. The intermediate valleys, too, that +lie among mountains have a peculiar air of solitude. Few sounds are heard at +mid-day to break the quiet of the scene. Sometimes the whistle of a solitary +muleteer, lagging with his lazy animal along the road that winds through the +centre of the valley; sometimes the faint piping of a shepherd’s reed from the +side of the mountain, or sometimes the bell of an ass slowly pacing along, +followed by a monk with bare feet and bare shining head, and carrying +provisions to the convent. +</p> + +<p> +I had continued to sketch for some time among my sleeping companions, when at +length I saw the captain of the band approaching, followed by a peasant leading +a mule, on which was a well-filled sack. I at first apprehended that this was +some new prey fallen into the hands of the robbers, but the contented look of +the peasant soon relieved me, and I was rejoiced to hear that it was our +promised repast. The brigands now came running from the three sides of the +mountain, having the quick scent of vultures. Every one busied himself in +unloading the mule and relieving the sack of its contents. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing that made its appearance was an enormous ham of a color and +plumpness that would have inspired the pencil of Teniers. It was followed by a +large cheese, a bag of boiled chestnuts, a little barrel of wine, and a +quantity of good household bread. Everything was arranged on the grass with a +degree of symmetry, and the captain presenting me his knife, requested me to +help myself. We all seated ourselves round the viands, and nothing was heard +for a time but the sound of vigorous mastication, or the gurgling of the barrel +of wine as it revolved briskly about the circle. My long fasting and the +mountain air and exercise had given me a keen appetite, and never did repast +appear to me more excellent or picturesque. +</p> + +<p> +From time to time one of the band was despatched to keep a look-out upon the +plain: no enemy was at hand, and the dinner was undisturbed. +</p> + +<p> +The peasant received nearly twice the value of his provisions, and set off down +the mountain highly satisfied with his bargain. I felt invigorated by the +hearty meal I had made, and notwithstanding that the wound I had received the +evening before was painful, yet I could not but feel extremely interested and +gratified by the singular scenes continually presented to me. Every thing +seemed pictured about these wild beings and their haunts. Their bivouacs, their +groups on guard, their indolent noon-tide repose on the mountain brow, their +rude repast on the herbage among rocks and trees, every thing presented a study +for a painter. But it was towards the approach of evening that I felt the +highest enthusiasm awakened. +</p> + +<p> +The setting sun, declining beyond the vast Campagna, shed its rich yellow beams +on the woody summits of the Abruzzi. Several mountains crowned with snow shone +brilliantly in the distance, contrasting their brightness with others, which, +thrown into shade, assumed deep tints of purple and violet. As the evening +advanced, the landscape darkened into a sterner character. The immense solitude +around; the wild mountains broken into rocks and precipices, intermingled with +vast oak, cork, and chestnuts; and the groups of banditti in the foreground, +reminded me of those savage scenes of Salvator Rosa. +</p> + +<p> +To beguile the time the captain proposed to his comrades to spread before me +their jewels and cameos, as I must doubtless be a judge of such articles, and +able to inform them of their nature. He set the example, the others followed +it, and in a few moments I saw the grass before me sparkling with jewels and +gems that would have delighted the eyes of an antiquary or a fine lady. Among +them were several precious jewels and antique intaglios and cameos of great +value, the spoils doubtless of travellers of distinction. I found that they +were in the habit of selling their booty in the frontier towns. As these in +general were thinly and poorly peopled, and little frequented by travellers, +they could offer no market for such valuable articles of taste and luxury. I +suggested to them the certainty of their readily obtaining great pieces for +these gems among the rich strangers with which Rome was thronged. +</p> + +<p> +The impression made upon their greedy minds was immediately apparent. One of +the band, a young man, and the least known, requested permission of the captain +to depart the following day in disguise for Rome, for the purpose of traffick; +promising on the faith of a bandit (a sacred pledge amongst them) to return in +two days to any place he might appoint. The captain consented, and a curious +scene took place. The robbers crowded round him eagerly, confiding to him such +of their jewels as they wished to dispose of, and giving him instructions what +to demand. There was bargaining and exchanging and selling of trinkets among +themselves, and I beheld my watch, which had a chain and valuable seals, +purchased by the young robber merchant of the ruffian who had plundered me, for +sixty dollars. I now conceived a faint hope that if it went to Rome, I might +somehow or other regain possession of it. +</p> + +<p> +In the mean time day declined, and no messenger returned from Tusculum. +</p> + +<p> +The idea of passing another night in the woods was extremely disheartening; for +I began to be satisfied with what I had seen of robber life. The chieftain now +ordered his men to follow him, that he might station them at their posts, +adding, that if the messenger did not return before night they must shift their +quarters to some other place. +</p> + +<p> +I was again left alone with the young bandit who had before guarded me: he had +the same gloomy air and haggard eye, with now and then a bitter sardonic smile. +I was determined to probe this ulcerated heart, and reminded him of a kind of +promise he had given me to tell me the cause of his suffering. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to me as if these troubled spirits were glad of an opportunity to +disburthen themselves; and of having some fresh undiseased mind with which they +could communicate. I had hardly made the request but he seated himself by my +side, and gave me his story in, as nearly as I can recollect, the following +words. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap21"></a>THE STORY OF THE YOUNG ROBBER</h3> + +<p> +I was born at the little town of Frosinone, which lies at the skirts of the +Abruzzi. My father had made a little property in trade, and gave me some +education, as he intended me for the church, but I had kept gay company too +much to relish the cowl, so I grew up a loiterer about the place. I was a +heedless fellow, a little quarrelsome on occasions, but good-humored in the +main, so I made my way very well for a time, until I fell in love. There lived +in our town a surveyor, or land bailiff, of the prince’s who had a young +daughter, a beautiful girl of sixteen. She was looked upon as something better +than the common run of our townsfolk, and kept almost entirely at home. I saw +her occasionally, and became madly in love with her, she looked so fresh and +tender, and so different to the sunburnt females to whom I had been accustomed. +</p> + +<p> +As my father kept me in money, I always dressed well, and took all +Opportunities of showing myself to advantage in the eyes of the little beauty. +I used to see her at church; and as I could play a little upon the guitar, I +gave her a tune sometimes under her window of an evening; and I tried to have +interviews with her in her father’s vineyard, not far from the town, where she +sometimes walked. She was evidently pleased with me, but she was young and shy, +and her Father kept a strict eye upon her, and took alarm at my attentions, for +he had a bad opinion of me, and looked for a better match for his daughter. I +became furious at the difficulties thrown in my way, having been accustomed +always to easy success among the women, being considered one of the smartest +young fellows of the place. +</p> + +<p> +Her father brought home a suitor for her; a rich farmer from a neighboring +town. The wedding-day was appointed, and preparations were making. I got sight +of her at her window, and I thought she looked sadly at me. I determined the +match should not take place, cost what it might. I met her intended bridegroom +in the market-place, and could not restrain the expression of my rage. A few +hot words passed between us, when I drew my stiletto, and stabbed him to the +heart. I fled to a neighboring church for refuge; and with a little money I +obtained absolution; but I did not dare to venture from my asylum. +</p> + +<p> +At that time our captain was forming his troop. He had known me from boyhood, +and hearing of my situation, came to me in secret, and made such offers that I +agreed to enlist myself among his followers. Indeed, I had more than once +thought of taking to this mode of life, having known several brave fellows of +the mountains, who used to spend their money freely among us youngsters of the +town. I accordingly left my asylum late one night, repaired to the appointed +place of meeting; took the oaths prescribed, and became one of the troop. We +were for some time in a distant part of the mountains, and our wild adventurous +kind of life hit my fancy wonderfully, and diverted my thoughts. At length they +returned with all their violence to the recollection of Rosetta. The solitude +in which I often found myself gave me time to brood over her image, and as I +have kept watch at night over our sleeping camp in the mountains, my feelings +have been roused almost to a fever. +</p> + +<p> +At length we shifted our ground, and determined to make a descent upon the road +between Terracina and Naples. In the course of our expedition, we passed a day +or two in the woody mountains which rise above Frosinone. I cannot tell you how +I felt when I looked down upon the place, and distinguished the residence of +Rosetta. I determined to have an interview with her; but to what purpose? I +could not expect that she would quit her home, and accompany me in my hazardous +life among the mountains. She had been brought up too tenderly for that; and +when I looked upon the women who were associated with some of our troop, I +could not have borne the thoughts of her being their companion. All return to +my former life was likewise hopeless; for a price was set upon my head. Still I +determined to see her; the very hazard and fruitlessness of the thing made me +furious to accomplish it. +</p> + +<p> +It is about three weeks since I persuaded our captain to draw down to the +vicinity of Frosinone, in hopes of entrapping some of its principal +inhabitants, and compelling them to a ransom. We were lying in ambush towards +evening, not far from the vineyard of Rosetta’s father. I stole quietly from my +companions, and drew near to reconnoitre the place of her frequent walks. +</p> + +<p> +How my heart beat when, among the vines, I beheld the gleaming of a white +dress! I knew it must be Rosetta’s; it being rare for any female of the place +to dress in white. I advanced secretly and without noise, until putting aside +the vines, I stood suddenly before her. She uttered a piercing shriek, but I +seized her in my arms, put my hand upon her mouth and conjured her to be +silent. I poured out all the frenzy of my passion; offered to renounce my mode +of life, to put my fate in her hands, to fly with her where we might live in +safety together. All that I could say, or do, would not pacify her. Instead of +love, horror and affright seemed to have taken possession of her breast.—She +struggled partly from my grasp, and filled the air with her cries. In an +instant the captain and the rest of my companions were around us. I would have +given anything at that moment had she been safe out of our hands, and in her +father’s house. It was too late. The captain pronounced her a prize, and +ordered that she should be borne to the mountains. I represented to him that +she was my prize, that I had a previous claim to her; and I mentioned my former +attachment. He sneered bitterly in reply; observed that brigands had no +business with village intrigues, and that, according to the laws of the troop, +all spoils of the kind were determined by lot. Love and jealousy were raging in +my heart, but I had to choose between obedience and death. I surrendered her to +the captain, and we made for the mountains. +</p> + +<p> +She was overcome by affright, and her steps were so feeble and faltering, and +it was necessary to support her. I could not endure the idea that my comrades +should touch her, and assuming a forced tranquillity, begged that she might be +confided to me, as one to whom she was more accustomed. The captain regarded me +for a moment with a searching look, but I bore it without flinching, and he +consented, I took her in my arms: she was almost senseless. Her head rested on +my shoulder, her mouth was near to mine. I felt her breath on my face, and it +seemed to fan the flame which devoured me. Oh, God! to have this glowing +treasure in my arms, and yet to think it was not mine! +</p> + +<p> +We arrived at the foot of the mountain. I ascended it with difficulty, +particularly where the woods were thick; but I would not relinquish my +delicious burthen. I reflected with rage, however, that I must soon do so. The +thoughts that so delicate a creature must be abandoned to my rude companions, +maddened me. I felt tempted, the stiletto in my hand, to cut my way through +them all, and bear her off in triumph. I scarcely conceived the idea, before I +saw its rashness; but my brain was fevered with the thought that any but myself +should enjoy her charms. I endeavored to outstrip my companions by the +quickness of my movements; and to get a little distance ahead, in case any +favorable opportunity of escape should present. Vain effort! The voice of the +captain suddenly ordered a halt. I trembled, but had to obey. The poor girl +partly opened a languid eye, but was without strength or motion. I laid her +upon the grass. The captain darted on me a terrible look of suspicion, and +ordered me to scour the woods with my companions, in search of some shepherd +who might be sent to her father’s to demand a ransom. +</p> + +<p> +I saw at once the peril. To resist with violence was certain death; but to +leave her alone, in the power of the captain!—I spoke out then with a fervor +inspired by my passion and my despair. I reminded the captain that I was the +first to seize her; that she was my prize, and that my previous attachment for +her should make her sacred among my companions. I insisted, therefore, that he +should pledge me his word to respect her; otherwise I should refuse obedience +to his orders. His only reply was, to cock his carbine; and at the signal my +comrades did the same. They laughed with cruelty at my impotent rage. What +could I do? I felt the madness of resistance. I was menaced on all hands, and +my companions obliged me to follow them. She remained alone with the chief—yes, +alone and almost lifeless!— +</p> + +<p> +Here the robber paused in his recital, overpowered by his emotions. Great drops +of sweat stood on his forehead; he panted rather than breathed; his brawny +bosom rose and fell like the waves of a troubled sea. When he had become a +little calm, he continued his recital. +</p> + +<p> +I was not long in finding a shepherd, said he. I ran with the rapidity of a +deer, eager, if possible, to get back before what I dreaded might take place. I +had left my companions far behind, and I rejoined them before they had reached +one-half the distance I had made. I hurried them back to the place where we had +left the captain. As we approached, I beheld him seated by the side of Rosetta. +His triumphant look, and the desolate condition of the unfortunate girl, left +me no doubt of her fate. I know not how I restrained my fury. +</p> + +<p> +It was with extreme difficulty, and by guiding her hand, that she was made to +trace a few characters, requesting her father to send three hundred dollars as +her ransom. The letter was despatched by the shepherd. When he was gone, the +chief turned sternly to me: “You have set an example,” said he, “of mutiny and +self-will, which if indulged would be ruinous to the troop. Had I treated you +as our laws require, this bullet would have been driven through your brain. But +you are an old friend; I have borne patiently with your fury and your folly; I +have even protected you from a foolish passion that would have unmanned you. As +to this girl, the laws of our association must have their course.” So saying, +he gave his commands, lots were drawn, and the helpless girl was abandoned to +the troop. +</p> + +<p> +Here the robber paused again, panting with fury and it was some moments before +he could resume his story. +</p> + +<p> +Hell, said he, was raging in my heart. I beheld the impossibility of avenging +myself, and I felt that, according to the articles in which we stood bound to +one another, the captain was in the right. I rushed with frenzy from the place. +I threw myself upon the earth; tore up the grass with my hands, and beat my +head, and gnashed my teeth in agony and rage. When at length I returned, I +beheld the wretched victim, pale, dishevelled; her dress torn and disordered. +An emotion of pity for a moment subdued my fiercer feelings. I bore her to the +foot of a tree, and leaned her gently against it. I took my gourd, which was +filled with wine, and applying it to her lips, endeavored to make her swallow a +little. To what a condition was she recovered! She, whom I had once seen the +pride of Frosinone, who but a short time before I had beheld sporting in her +father’s vineyard, so fresh and beautiful and happy! Her teeth were clenched; +her eyes fixed on the ground; her form without motion, and in a state of +absolute insensibility. I hung over her in an agony of recollection of all that +she had been, and of anguish at what I now beheld her. I darted round a look of +horror at my companions, who seemed like so many fiends exulting in the +downfall of an angel, and I felt a horror at myself for being their accomplice. +</p> + +<p> +The captain, always suspicious, saw with his usual penetration what was passing +within me, and ordered me to go upon the ridge of woods to keep a look-out upon +the neighborhood and await the return of the shepherd. I obeyed, of course, +stifling the fury that raged within me, though I felt for the moment that he +was my most deadly foe. +</p> + +<p> +On my way, however, a ray of reflection came across my mind. I perceived that +the captain was but following with strictness the terrible laws to which we had +sworn fidelity. That the passion by which I had been blinded might with justice +have been fatal to me but for his forbearance; that he had penetrated my soul, +and had taken precautions, by sending me out of the way, to prevent my +committing any excess in my anger. From that instant I felt that I was capable +of pardoning him. +</p> + +<p> +Occupied with these thoughts, I arrived at the foot of the mountain. The +country was solitary and secure; and in a short time I beheld the shepherd at a +distance crossing the plain. I hastened to meet him. He had obtained nothing. +He had found the father plunged in the deepest distress. He had read the letter +with violent emotion, and then calming himself with a sudden exertion, he had +replied coldly, “My daughter has been dishonored by those wretches; let her be +returned without ransom, or let her die!” +</p> + +<p> +I shuddered at this reply. I knew, according to the laws of our troop, her +death was inevitable. Our oaths required it. I felt, nevertheless, that, not +having been able to have her to myself, I could become her executioner! +</p> + +<p> +The robber again paused with agitation. I sat musing upon his last Frightful +words, which proved to what excess the passions may be carried when escaped +from all moral restraint. There was a horrible verity in this story that +reminded me of some of the tragic fictions of Danté. +</p> + +<p> +We now came to a fatal moment, resumed the bandit. After the report of the +shepherd, I returned with him, and the chieftain received from his lips the +refusal of the father. At a signal, which we all understood, we followed him +some distance from the victim. He there pronounced her sentence of death. Every +one stood ready to execute his order; but I interfered. I observed that there +was something due to pity, as well as to justice. That I was as ready as any +one to approve the implacable law which was to serve as a warning to all those +who hesitated to pay the ransoms demanded for our prisoners, but that, though +the sacrifice was proper, it ought to be made without cruelty. The night is +approaching, continued I; she will soon be wrapped in sleep; let her then be +despatched. All that I now claim on the score of former fondness for her is, +let me strike the blow. I will do it as surely, but more tenderly than another. +</p> + +<p> +Several raised their voices against my proposition, but the captain Imposed +silence on them. He told me I might conduct her into a thicket at some +distance, and he relied upon my promise. +</p> + +<p> +I hastened to seize my prey. There was a forlorn kind of triumph at having at +length become her exclusive possessor. I bore her off into the thickness of the +forest. She remained in the same state of insensibility and stupor. I was +thankful that she did not recollect me; for had she once murmured my name, I +should have been overcome. She slept at length in the arms of him who was to +poniard her. Many were the conflicts I underwent before I could bring myself to +strike the blow. My heart had become sore by the recent conflicts it had +undergone, and I dreaded lest, by procrastination, some other should become her +executioner. When her repose had continued for some time, I separated myself +gently from her, that I might not disturb her sleep, and seizing suddenly my +poniard, plunged it into her bosom. A painful and concentrated murmur, but +without any convulsive movement, accompanied her last sigh. So perished this +unfortunate. +</p> + +<p> +He ceased to speak. I sat horror-struck, covering my face with my hands, +seeking, as it were, to hide from myself the frightful images he had presented +to my mind. I was roused from this silence by the voice of the captain. “You +sleep,” said he, “and it is time to be off. Come, we must abandon this height, +as night is setting in, and the messenger is not returned. I will post some one +on the mountain edge, to conduct him to the place where we shall pass the +night.” +</p> + +<p> +This was no agreeable news to me. I was sick at heart with the dismal story I +had heard. I was harassed and fatigued, and the sight of the banditti began to +grow insupportable to me. +</p> + +<p> +The captain assembled his comrades. We rapidly descended the forest which we +had mounted with so much difficulty in the morning, and soon arrived in what +appeared to be a frequented road. The robbers proceeded with great caution, +carrying their guns cocked, and looking on every side with wary and suspicious +eyes. They were apprehensive of encountering the civic patrole. We left Rocca +Priori behind us. There was a fountain near by, and as I was excessively +thirsty, I begged permission to stop and drink. The captain himself went, and +brought me water in his hat. We pursued our route, when, at the extremity of an +alley which crossed the road, I perceived a female on horseback, dressed in +white. She was alone. I recollected the fate of the poor girl in the story, and +trembled for her safety. +</p> + +<p> +One of the brigands saw her at the same instant, and plunging into the bushes, +he ran precipitately in the direction towards her. Stopping on the border of +the alley, he put one knee to the ground, presented his carbine ready for +menace, or to shoot her horse if she attempted to fly, and in this way awaited +her approach. I kept my eyes fixed on her with intense anxiety. I felt tempted +to shout, and warn her of her danger, though my own destruction would have been +the consequence. It was awful to see this tiger crouching ready for a bound, +and the poor innocent victim wandering unconsciously near him. Nothing but a +mere chance could save her. To my joy, the chance turned in her favor. She +seemed almost accidentally to take an opposite path, which led outside of the +wood, where the robber dare not venture. To this casual deviation she owed her +safety. +</p> + +<p> +I could not imagine why the captain of the band had ventured to such a distance +from the height, on which he had placed the sentinel to watch the return of the +messengers. He seemed himself uneasy at the risk to which he exposed himself. +His movements were rapid and uneasy; I could scarce keep pace with him. At +length, after three hours of what might be termed a forced march, we mounted +the extremity of the same woods, the summit of which we had occupied during the +day; and I learnt with satisfaction, that we had reached our quarters for the +night. +</p> + +<p> +“You must be fatigued,” said the chieftain; “but it was necessary to survey the +environs, so as not to be surprised during the night. Had we met with the +famous civic guard of Rocca Priori you would have seen fine sport.” Such was +the indefatigable precaution and forethought of this robber chief, who really +gave continual evidences of military talent. +</p> + +<p> +The night was magnificent. The moon rising above the horizon in a cloudless +sky, faintly lit up the grand features of the mountains, while lights twinkling +here and there, like terrestrial stars, in the wide, dusky expanse of the +landscape, betrayed the lonely cabins of the shepherds. Exhausted by fatigue, +and by the many agitations I had experienced, I prepared to sleep, soothed by +the hope of approaching deliverance. The captain ordered his companions to +collect some dry moss; he arranged with his own hands a kind of mattress and +pillow of it, and gave me his ample mantle as a covering. I could not but feel +both surprised and gratified by such unexpected attentions on the part of this +benevolent cut-throat: for there is nothing more striking than to find the +ordinary charities, which are matters of course in common life, flourishing by +the side of such stern and sterile crime. It is like finding the tender flowers +and fresh herbage of the valley growing among the rocks and cinders of the +volcano. +</p> + +<p> +Before I fell asleep, I had some farther discourse with the captain, who seemed +to put great confidence in me. He referred to our previous conversation of the +morning; told me he was weary of his hazardous profession; that he had acquired +sufficient property, and was anxious to return to the world and lead a peaceful +life in the bosom of his family. He wished to know whether it was not in my +power to procure him a passport for the United States of America. I applauded +his good intentions, and promised to do everything in my power to promote its +success. We then parted for the night. I stretched myself upon my couch of +moss, which, after my fatigues, felt like a bed of down, and sheltered by the +robber’s mantle from all humidity, I slept soundly without waking, until the +signal to arise. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearly six o’clock, and the day was just dawning. As the place where we +had passed the night was too much exposed, we moved up into the thickness of +the woods. A fire was kindled. While there was any flame, the mantles were +again extended round it; but when nothing remained but glowing cinders, they +were lowered, and the robbers seated themselves in a circle. +</p> + +<p> +The scene before me reminded me of some of those described by Homer. There +wanted only the victim on the coals, and the sacred knife, to cut off the +succulent parts, and distribute them around. My companions might have rivalled +the grim warriors of Greece. In place of the noble repasts, however, of +Achilles and Agamemnon, I beheld displayed on the grass the remains of the ham +which had sustained so vigorous an attack on the preceding evening, accompanied +by the reliques of the bread, cheese, and wine. +</p> + +<p> +We had scarcely commenced our frugal breakfast, when I heard again an Imitation +of the bleating of sheep, similar to what I had heard the day before. The +captain answered it in the same tone. Two men were soon after seen descending +from the woody height, where we had passed the preceding evening. On nearer +approach, they proved to be the sentinel and the messenger. The captain rose +and went to meet them. He made a signal for his comrades to join him. They had +a short conference, and then returning to me with eagerness, “Your ransom is +paid,” said he; “you are free!” +</p> + +<p> +Though I had anticipated deliverance, I cannot tell you what a rush of delight +these tidings gave me. I cared not to finish my repast, but prepared to depart. +The captain took me by the hand; requested permission to write to me, and +begged me not to forget the passport. I replied, that I hoped to be of +effectual service to him, and that I relied on his honor to return the prince’s +note for five hundred dollars, now that the cash was paid. He regarded me for a +moment with surprise; then, seeming to recollect himself, “E giusto,” said he, +“eccoloadio!”<a href="#fn-1" name="fnref-1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> He delivered me +the note, pressed my hand once more, and we separated. The laborers were +permitted to follow me, and we resumed with joy our road towards Tusculum. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-1"></a> <a href="#fnref-1">[1]</a> +It is just—there it is—adieu! +</p> + +<p> +The artist ceased to speak; the party continued for a few moments to pace the +shore of Terracina in silence. The story they had heard had made a deep +impression on them, particularly on the fair Venetian, who had gradually +regained her husband’s arm. At the part that related to the young girl of +Frosinone, she had been violently affected; sobs broke from her; she clung +close to her husband, and as she looked up to him as if for protection, the +moon-beams shining on her beautifully fair countenance showed it paler than +usual with terror, while tears glittered in her fine dark eyes. “O caro mio!” +would she murmur, shuddering at every atrocious circumstance of the story. +</p> + +<p> +“Corragio, mia vita!” was the reply, as the husband gently and fondly tapped +the white hand that lay upon his arm. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman alone preserved his usual phlegm, and the fair Venetian was +piqued at it. +</p> + +<p> +She had pardoned him a want of gallantry towards herself, though a sin of +omission seldom met with in the gallant climate of Italy, but the quiet +coolness which he maintained in matters which so much affected her, and the +slow credence which he had given to the stories which had filled her with +alarm, were quite vexatious. +</p> + +<p> +“Santa Maria!” said she to husband as they retired for the night, “what +insensible beings these English are!” +</p> + +<p> +In the morning all was bustle at the inn at Terracina. +</p> + +<p> +The procaccio had departed at day-break, on its route towards Rome, but the +Englishman was yet to start, and the departure of an English equipage is always +enough to keep an inn in a bustle. On this occasion there was more than usual +stir; for the Englishman having much property about him, and having been +convinced of the real danger of the road, had applied to the police and +obtained, by dint of liberal pay, an escort of eight dragoons and twelve +foot-soldiers, as far as Fondi. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps, too, there might have been a little ostentation at bottom, from which, +with great delicacy be it spoken, English travellers are not always exempt; +though to say the truth, he had nothing of it in his manner. He moved about +taciturn and reserved as usual, among the gaping crowd in his +gingerbread-colored travelling cap, with his hands in his pockets. He gave +laconic orders to John as he packed away the thousand and one indispensable +conveniencies of the night, double loaded his pistols with great +<i>sang-froid</i>, and deposited them in the pockets of the carriage, taking no +notice of a pair of keen eyes gazing on him from among the herd of loitering +idlers. The fair Venetian now came up with a request made in her dulcet tones, +that he would permit their carriage to proceed under protection of his escort. +The Englishman, who was busy loading another pair of pistols for his servant, +and held the ramrod between his teeth, nodded assent as a matter of course, but +without lifting up his eyes. The fair Venetian was not accustomed to such +indifference. “O Dio!” ejaculated she softly as she retired, “como sono freddi +questi Inglesi.” At length off they set in gallant style, the eight dragoons +prancing in front, the twelve foot-soldiers marching in rear, and carriages +moving slowly in the centre to enable the infantry to keep pace with them. They +had proceeded but a few hundred yards when it was discovered that some +indispensable article had been left behind. +</p> + +<p> +In fact, the Englishman’s purse was missing, and John was despatched to the inn +to search for it. +</p> + +<p> +This occasioned a little delay, and the carriage of the Venetians drove slowly +on. John came back out of breath and out of humor; the purse was not to be +found; his master was irritated; he recollected the very place where it lay; +the cursed Italian servant had pocketed it. John was again sent back. He +returned once more, without the purse, but with the landlord and the whole +household at his heels. A thousand ejaculations and protestations, accompanied +by all sorts of grimaces and contortions. “No purse had been seen—his +excellenza must be mistaken.” +</p> + +<p> +No—his excellenza was not mistaken; the purse lay on the marble table, under +the mirror: a green purse, half full of gold and silver. Again a thousand +grimaces and contortions, and vows by San Genario, that no purse of the kind +had been seen. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman became furious. “The waiter had pocketed it. The landlord was a +knave. The inn a den of thieves—it was a d——d country—he had been cheated and +plundered from one end of it to the other—but he’d have satisfaction—he’d drive +right off to the police.” +</p> + +<p> +He was on the point of ordering the postilions to turn back, when, on rising, +he displaced the cushion of the carriage, and the purse of money fell chinking +to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +All the blood in his body seemed to rush into his face. “D—n the purse,” said +he, as he snatched it up. He dashed a handful of money on the ground before the +pale, cringing waiter. “There—be off,” cried he; “John, order the postilions to +drive on.” +</p> + +<p> +Above half an hour had been exhausted in this altercation. The Venetian +carriage had loitered along; its passengers looking out from time to time, and +expecting the escort every moment to follow. They had gradually turned an angle +of the road that shut them out of sight. The little army was again in motion, +and made a very picturesque appearance as it wound along at the bottom of the +rocks; the morning sunshine beaming upon the weapons of soldiery. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman lolled back in his carriage, vexed with himself at what had +passed, and consequently out of humor with all the world. As this, however, is +no uncommon case with gentlemen who travel for their pleasure, it is hardly +worthy of remark. +</p> + +<p> +They had wound up from the coast among the hills, and came to a part of the +road that admitted of some prospect ahead. +</p> + +<p> +“I see nothing of the lady’s carriage, sir,” said John, leaning over from the +coach box. +</p> + +<p> +“Hang the lady’s carriage!” said the Englishman, crustily; “don’t plague me +about the lady’s carriage; must I be continually pestered with strangers?” +</p> + +<p> +John said not another word, for he understood his master’s mood. The road grew +more wild and lonely; they were slowly proceeding in a foot pace up a hill; the +dragoons were some distance ahead, and had just reached the summit of the hill, +when they uttered an exclamation, or rather shout, and galloped forward. The +Englishman was aroused from his sulky revery. He stretched his head from the +carriage, which had attained the brow of the hill. Before him extended a long +hollow defile, commanded on one side by rugged, precipitous heights, covered +with bushes and scanty forest trees. At some distance he beheld the carriage of +the Venitians overturned; a numerous gang of desperadoes were rifling it; the +young man and his servant were overpowered and partly stripped, and the lady +was in the hands of two of the ruffians. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman seized his pistols, sprang from his carriage, and called upon +John to follow him. In the meantime, as the dragoons came forward, the robbers +who were busy with the carriage quitted their spoil, formed themselves in the +middle of the road, and taking deliberate aim, fired. One of the dragoons fell, +another was wounded, and the whole were for a moment checked and thrown in +confusion. The robbers loaded again in an instant. The dragoons had discharged +their carbines, but without apparent effect; they received another volley, +which, though none fell, threw them again into confusion. The robbers were +loading a second time, when they saw the foot soldiers at hand.—“Scampa via!” +was the word. They abandoned their prey, and retreated up the rocks; the +soldiers after them. They fought from cliff to cliff, and bush to bush, the +robbers turning every now and then to fire upon their pursuers; the soldiers +scrambling after them, and discharging their muskets whenever they could get a +chance. Sometimes a soldier or a robber was shot down, and came tumbling Among +the cliffs. The dragoons kept firing from below, whenever a robber came in +sight. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman hastened to the scene of action, and the balls discharged at the +dragoons had whistled past him as he advanced. One object, however, engrossed +his attention. It was the beautiful Venetian lady in the hands of two of the +robbers, who, during the confusion of the fight, carried her shrieking up the +mountains. He saw her dress gleaming among the bushes, and he sprang up the +rocks to intercept the robbers as they bore off their prey. The ruggedness of +the steep and the entanglements of the bushes, delayed and impeded him. He lost +sight of the lady, but was still guided by her cries, which grew fainter and +fainter. They were off to the left, while the report of muskets showed that the +battle was raging to the right. +</p> + +<p> +At length he came upon what appeared to be a rugged footpath, faintly worn in a +gully of the rock, and beheld the ruffians at some distance hurrying the lady +up the defile. One of them hearing his approach let go his prey, advanced +towards him, and levelling the carbine which had been slung on his back, fired. +The ball whizzed through the Englishman’s hat, and carried with it some of his +hair. He returned the fire with one of his pistols, and the robber fell. The +other brigand now dropped the lady, and drawing a long pistol from his belt, +fired on his adversary with deliberate aim; the ball passed between his left +arm and his side, slightly wounding the arm. The Englishman advanced and +discharged his remaining pistol, which wounded the robber, but not severely. +The brigand drew a stiletto, and rushed upon his adversary, who eluded the +blow, receiving merely a slight wound, and defending himself with his pistol, +which had a spring bayonet. They closed with one another, and a desperate +struggle ensued. The robber was a square-built, thick-set, man, powerful, +muscular, and active. The Englishman, though of larger frame and greater +strength, was less active and less accustomed to athletic exercises and feats +of hardihood, but he showed himself practised and skilled in the art of +defence. They were on a craggy height, and the Englishman perceived that his +antagonist was striving to press him to the edge. +</p> + +<p> +A side glance showed him also the robber whom he had first wounded, Scrambling +up to the assistance of his comrade, stiletto in hand. He had, in fact, +attained the summit of the cliff, and the Englishman saw him within a few +steps, when he heard suddenly the report of a pistol and the ruffian fell. The +shot came from John, who had arrived just in time to save his master. +</p> + +<p> +The remaining robber, exhausted by loss of blood and the violence of the +contest, showed signs of faltering. His adversary pursued his advantage; +pressed on him, and as his strength relaxed, dashed him headlong from the +precipice. He looked after him and saw him lying motionless among the rocks +below. +</p> + +<p> +The Englishman now sought the fair Venetian. He found her senseless on the +ground. With his servant’s assistance he bore her down to the road, where her +husband was raving like one distracted. +</p> + +<p> +The occasional discharge of fire-arms along the height showed that a Retreating +fight was still kept up by the robbers. The carriage was righted; the baggage +was hastily replaced; the Venetian, transported with joy and gratitude, took +his lovely and senseless burthen in his arms, and the party resumed their route +towards Fondi, escorted by the dragoons, leaving the foot soldiers to ferret +out the banditti. While on the way John dressed his master’s wounds, which were +found not to be serious. +</p> + +<p> +Before arriving at Fondi the fair Venetian had recovered from her swoon, and +was made conscious of her safety and of the mode of her deliverance. Her +transports were unbounded; and mingled with them were enthusiastic ejaculations +of gratitude to her deliverer. A thousand times did she reproach herself for +having accused him of coldness and insensibility. The moment she saw him she +rushed into his arms, and clasped him round the neck with all the vivacity of +her nation. +</p> + +<p> +Never was man more embarrassed by the embraces of a fine woman. +</p> + +<p> +“My deliverer! my angel!” exclaimed she. +</p> + +<p> +“Tut! tut!” said the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +“You are wounded!” shrieked the fair Venetian, as she saw the blood upon his +clothes. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh—nothing at all!” +</p> + +<p> +“O Dio!” exclaimed she, clasping him again round the neck and sobbing on his +bosom. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh!” exclaimed the Englishman, looking somewhat foolish; “this is all +nonsense.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="part04"></a>PART FOURTH<br/> +THE MONEY DIGGERS</h2> + +<h4>(FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER)</h4> + +<p class="poem"> +Now I remember those old women’s words<br/> +Who in my youth would tell me winter’s tales;<br/> +And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night<br/> +About the place where treasure had been hid.<br/> +—MARLOW’S JEW OF MALTA.<br/> +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap22"></a>HELL GATE</h3> + +<p> +About six miles from the renowned city of the Manhattoes, and in that Sound, or +arm of the sea, which passes between the main land and Nassau or Long Island, +there is a narrow strait, where the current is violently compressed between +shouldering promontories, and horribly irritated and perplexed by rocks and +shoals. Being at the best of times a very violent, hasty current, its takes +these impediments in mighty dudgeon; boiling in whirlpools; brawling and +fretting in ripples and breakers; and, in short, indulging in all kinds of +wrong-headed paroxysms. At such times, woe to any unlucky vessel that ventures +within its clutches. +</p> + +<p> +This termagant humor is said to prevail only at half tides. At low water it is +as pacific as any other stream. As the tide rises, it begins to fret; at half +tide it rages and roars as if bellowing for more water; but when the tide is +full it relapses again into quiet, and for a time seems almost to sleep as +soundly as an alderman after dinner. It may be compared to an inveterate hard +drinker, who is a peaceable fellow enough when he has no liquor at all, or when +he has a skin full, but when half seas over plays the very devil. +</p> + +<p> +This mighty, blustering, bullying little strait was a place of great Difficulty +and danger to the Dutch navigators of ancient days; hectoring their tub-built +barks in a most unruly style; whirling them about, in a manner to make any but +a Dutchman giddy, and not unfrequently stranding them upon rocks and reefs. +Whereupon out of sheer spleen they denominated it Hellegat (literally Hell Gut) +and solemnly gave it over to the devil. This appellation has since been aptly +rendered into English by the name of Hell Gate; and into nonsense by the name +of Hurl Gate, according to certain foreign intruders who neither understood +Dutch nor English. May St. Nicholas confound them! +</p> + +<p> +From this strait to the city of the Manhattoes the borders of the Sound are +greatly diversified; in one part, on the eastern shore of the island of Manhata +and opposite Blackwell’s Island, being very much broken and indented by rocky +nooks, overhung with trees which give them a wild and romantic look. +</p> + +<p> +The flux and reflux of the tide through this part of the Sound is extremely +rapid, and the navigation troublesome, by reason of the whirling eddies and +counter currents. I speak this from experience, having been much of a navigator +of these small seas in my boyhood, and having more than once run the risk of +shipwreck and drowning in the course of divers holiday voyages, to which in +common with the Dutch urchins I was rather prone. +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of this perilous strait, and hard by a group of rocks called “the +Hen and Chickens,” there lay in my boyish days the wreck of a vessel which had +been entangled in the whirlpools and stranded during a storm. There was some +wild story about this being the wreck of a pirate, and of some bloody murder, +connected with it, which I cannot now recollect. Indeed, the desolate look of +this forlorn hulk, and the fearful place where it lay rotting, were sufficient +to awaken strange notions concerning it. A row of timber heads, blackened by +time, peered above the surface at high water; but at low tide a considerable +part of the hull was bare, and its great ribs or timbers, partly stripped of +their planks, looked like the skeleton of some sea monster. There was also the +stump of a mast, with a few ropes and blocks swinging about and whistling in +the wind, while the sea gull wheeled and screamed around this melancholy +carcass. +</p> + +<p> +The stories connected with this wreck made it an object of great awe to my +boyish fancy; but in truth the whole neighborhood was full of fable and romance +for me, abounding with traditions about pirates, hobgoblins, and buried money. +As I grew to more mature years I made many researches after the truth of these +strange traditions; for I have always been a curious investigator of the +valuable, but obscure branches of the history of my native province. I found +infinite difficulty, however, in arriving at any precise information. In +seeking to dig up one fact it is incredible the number of fables which I +unearthed; for the whole course of the Sound seemed in my younger days to be +like the straits of Pylorus of yore, the very region of fiction. I will say +nothing of the Devil’s Stepping Stones, by which that arch fiend made his +retreat from Connecticut to Long Island, seeing that the subject is likely to +be learnedly treated by a worthy friend and contemporary historian<a +href="#fn-2" name="fnref-2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> whom I have furnished with +particulars thereof. Neither will I say anything of the black man in a +three-cornered hat, seated in the stern of a jolly boat who used to be seen +about Hell Gate in stormy weather; and who went by the name of the Pirate’s +Spuke, or Pirate’s Ghost, because I never could meet with any person of stanch +credibility who professed to have seen this spectrum; unless it were the widow +of Manus Conklin, the blacksmith of Frog’s Neck, but then, poor woman, she was +a little purblind, and might have been mistaken; though they said she saw +farther than other folks in the dark. All this, however, was but little +satisfactory in regard to the tales of buried money about which I was most +curious; and the following was all that I could for a long time collect that +had anything like an air of authenticity. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-2"></a> <a href="#fnref-2">[2]</a> +For a very interesting account of the Devil and his Stepping Stones, see the +learned memoir read before the New York Historical Society since the death of +Mr. Knickerbocker, by his friend, an eminent jurist of the place. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap23"></a>KIDD THE PIRATE</h3> + +<p> +In old times, just after the territory of the New Netherlands had been wrested +from the hands of their High Mightinesses, the Lords States General of Holland, +by Charles the Second, and while it was as yet in an unquiet state, the +province was a favorite resort of adventurers of all kinds, and particularly of +buccaneers. These were piratical rovers of the deep, who made sad work in times +of peace among the Spanish settlements and Spanish merchant ships. They took +advantage of the easy access to the harbor of the Manhattoes, and of the laxity +of its scarcely-organized government, to make it a kind of rendezvous, where +they might dispose of their ill-gotten spoils, and concert new depredations. +Crews of these desperadoes, the runagates of every country and clime, might be +seen swaggering, in open day, about the streets of the little burgh; elbowing +its quiet Mynheers; trafficking away their rich outlandish plunder, at half +price, to the wary merchant, and then squandering their gains in taverns; +drinking, gambling, singing, swearing, shouting, and astounding the +neighborhood with sudden brawl and ruffian revelry. +</p> + +<p> +At length the indignation of government was aroused, and it was determined to +ferret out this vermin brood from, the colonies. Great consternation took place +among the pirates on finding justice in pursuit of them, and their old haunts +turned to places of peril. They secreted their money and jewels in lonely +out-of-the-way places; buried them about the wild shores of the rivers and +sea-coast, and dispersed themselves over the face of the country. +</p> + +<p> +Among the agents employed to hunt them by sea was the renowned Captain Kidd. He +had long been a hardy adventurer, a kind of equivocal borderer, half trader, +half smuggler, with a tolerable dash of the pickaroon. He had traded for some +time among the pirates, lurking about the seas in a little rakish, +musquito-built vessel, prying into all kinds of odd places, as busy as a Mother +Carey’s chicken in a gale of wind. +</p> + +<p> +This nondescript personage was pitched upon by government as the very man to +command a vessel fitted out to cruise against the pirates, since he knew all +their haunts and lurking-places: acting upon the shrewd old maxim of “setting a +rogue to catch a rogue.” Kidd accordingly sailed from New York in the Adventure +galley, gallantly armed and duly commissioned, and steered his course to the +Madeiras, to Bonavista, to Madagascar, and cruised at the entrance of the Red +Sea. Instead, however, of making war upon the pirates, he turned pirate +himself: captured friend or foe; enriched himself with the spoils of a wealthy +Indiaman, manned by Moors, though commanded by an Englishman, and having +disposed of his prize, had the hardihood to return to Boston, laden with +wealth, with a crew of his comrades at his heels. +</p> + +<p> +His fame had preceded him. The alarm was given of the reappearance of this +cut-purse of the ocean. Measures were taken for his arrest; but he had time, it +is said, to bury the greater part of his treasures. He even attempted to draw +his sword and defend himself when arrested; but was secured and thrown into +prison, with several of his followers. They were carried to England in a +frigate, where they were tried, condemned, and hanged at Execution Dock. Kidd +died hard, for the rope with which he was first tied up broke with his weight, +and he tumbled to the ground; he was tied up a second time, and effectually; +from whence arose the story of his having been twice hanged. +</p> + +<p> +Such is the main outline of Kidd’s history; but it has given birth to an +innumerable progeny of traditions. The circumstance of his having buried great +treasures of gold and jewels after returning from his cruising set the brains +of all the good people along the coast in a ferment. There were rumors on +rumors of great sums found here and there; sometimes in one part of the +country, sometimes in another; of trees and rocks bearing mysterious marks; +doubtless indicating the spots where treasure lay hidden; of coins found with +Moorish characters, the plunder of Kidd’s eastern prize, but which the common +people took for diabolical or magic inscriptions. +</p> + +<p> +Some reported the spoils to have been buried in solitary unsettled places about +Plymouth and Cape Cod; many other parts of the Eastern coast, also, and various +places in Long Island Sound, have been gilded by these rumors, and have been +ransacked by adventurous money-diggers. +</p> + +<p> +In all the stories of these enterprises the devil played a conspicuous part. +Either he was conciliated by ceremonies and invocations, or some bargain or +compact was made with him. Still he was sure to play the money-diggers some +slippery trick. Some had succeeded so far as to touch the iron chest which +contained the treasure, when some baffling circumstance was sure to take place. +Either the earth would fall in and fill up the pit or some direful noise or +apparition would throw the party into a panic and frighten them from the place; +and sometimes the devil himself would appear and bear off the prize from their +very grasp; and if they visited the place on the next day, not a trace would be +seen of their labors of the preceding night. +</p> + +<p> +Such were the vague rumors which for a long time tantalized without gratifying +my curiosity on the interesting subject of these pirate traditions. There is +nothing in this world so hard to get at as truth. I sought among my favorite +sources of authentic information, the oldest inhabitants, and particularly the +old Dutch wives of the province; but though I flatter myself I am better versed +than most men in the curious history of my native province, yet for a long time +my inquiries were unattended with any substantial result. +</p> + +<p> +At length it happened, one calm day in the latter part of summer, that I was +relaxing myself from the toils of severe study by a day’s amusement in fishing +in those waters which had been the favorite resort of my boyhood. I was in +company with several worthy burghers of my native city. Our sport was +indifferent; the fish did not bite freely; and we had frequently changed our +fishing ground without bettering our luck. We at length anchored close under a +ledge of rocky coast, on the eastern side of the island of Manhata. It was a +still, warm day. The stream whirled and dimpled by us without a wave or even a +ripple, and every thing was so calm and quiet that it was almost startling when +the kingfisher would pitch himself from the branch of some dry tree, and after +suspending himself for a moment in the air to take his aim, would souse into +the smooth water after his prey. While we were lolling in our boat, half drowsy +with the warm stillness of the day and the dullness of our sport, one of our +party, a worthy alderman, was overtaken by a slumber, and, as he dozed, +suffered the sinker of his drop-line to lie upon the bottom of the river. On +waking, he found he had caught something of importance, from the weight; on +drawing it to the surface, we were much surprised to find a long pistol of very +curious and outlandish fashion, which, from its rusted condition, and its stock +being worm-eaten and covered with barnacles, appeared to have been a long time +under water. The unexpected appearance of this document of warfare occasioned +much speculation among my pacific companions. One supposed it to have fallen +there during the revolutionary war. Another, from the peculiarity of its +fashion, attributed it to the voyagers in the earliest days of the settlement; +perchance to the renowned Adrian Block, who explored the Sound and discovered +Block Island, since so noted for its cheese. But a third, after regarding it +for some time, pronounced it to be of veritable Spanish workmanship. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll warrant,” said he, “if this pistol could talk it would tell strange +stories of hard fights among the Spanish Dons. I’ve not a doubt but it’s a +relique of the buccaneers of old times.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like enough,” said another of the party. “There was Bradish the pirate, who at +the time Lord Bellamont made such a stir after the buccaneers, buried money and +jewels somewhere in these parts or on Long-Island; and then there was Captain +Kidd—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, that Kidd was a daring dog,” said an iron-faced Cape Cod whaler. “There’s +a fine old song about him, all to the tune of: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +‘My name is Robert Kidd,<br/> +As I sailed, as I sailed.’<br/> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +And it tells how he gained the devil’s good graces by burying the Bible: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +‘I had the Bible in my hand,<br/> + As I sailed, as I sailed,<br/> +And I buried it in the sand,<br/> + As I sailed.’<br/> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Egad, if this pistol had belonged to him I should set some store by it out of +sheer curiosity. Ah, well, there’s an odd story I have heard about one Tom +Walker, who, they say, dug up some of Kidd’s buried money; and as the fish +don’t seem to bite at present, I’ll tell it to you to pass away time.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap24"></a>THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER</h3> + +<p> +A few miles from Boston, in Massachusetts, there is a deep inlet winding +several miles into the interior of the country from Charles Bay, and +terminating in a thickly-wooded swamp, or morass. On one side of this inlet is +a beautiful dark grove; on the opposite side the land rises abruptly from the +water’s edge, into a high ridge on which grow a few scattered oaks of great age +and immense size. It was under one of these gigantic trees, according to old +stories, that Kidd the pirate buried his treasure. The inlet allowed a facility +to bring the money in a boat secretly and at night to the very foot of the +hill. The elevation of the place permitted a good look-out to be kept that no +one was at hand, while the remarkable trees formed good landmarks by which the +place might easily be found again. The old stories add, moreover, that the +devil presided at the hiding of the money, and took it under his guardianship; +but this, it is well-known, he always does with buried treasure, particularly +when it has been ill gotten. Be that as it may, Kidd never returned to recover +his wealth; being shortly after seized at Boston, sent out to England, and +there hanged for a pirate. +</p> + +<p> +About the year 1727, just at the time when earthquakes were prevalent in New +England, and shook many tall sinners down upon their knees, there lived near +this place a meagre miserly fellow of the name of Tom Walker. He had a wife as +miserly as himself; they were so miserly that they even conspired to cheat each +other. Whatever the woman could lay hands on she hid away; a hen could not +cackle but she was on the alert to secure the new-laid egg. Her husband was +continually prying about to detect her secret hoards, and many and fierce were +the conflicts that took place about what ought to have been common property. +They lived in a forlorn-looking house, that stood alone and had an air of +starvation. A few straggling savin trees, emblems of sterility, grew near it; +no smoke ever curled from its chimney; no traveller stopped at its door. A +miserable horse, whose ribs were as articulate as the bars of a gridiron, +stalked about a field where a thin carpet of moss, scarcely covering the ragged +beds of pudding-stone, tantalized and balked his hunger; and sometimes he would +lean his head over the fence, looked piteously at the passer-by, and seem to +petition deliverance from this land of famine. +</p> + +<p> +The house and its inmates had altogether a bad name. Tom’s wife was a tall +termagant, fierce of temper, loud of tongue, and strong of arm. Her voice was +often heard in wordy warfare with her husband; and his face sometimes showed +signs that their conflicts were not confined to words. No one ventured, +however, to interfere between them; the lonely wayfarer shrunk within himself +at the horrid clamor and clapper-clawing; eyed the den of discord askance, and +hurried on his way, rejoicing, if a bachelor, in his celibacy. +</p> + +<p> +One day that Tom Walker had been to a distant part of the neighborhood, he took +what he considered a short cut homewards through the swamp. Like most short +cuts, it was an ill-chosen route. The swamp was thickly grown with great gloomy +pines and hemlocks, some of them ninety feet high; which made it dark at +noon-day, and a retreat for all the owls of the neighborhood. It was full of +pits and quagmires, partly covered with weeds and mosses; where the green +surface often betrayed the traveller into a gulf of black smothering mud; there +were also dark and stagnant pools, the abodes of the tadpole, the bull-frog, +and the water-snake, and where trunks of pines and hemlocks lay half drowned, +half rotting, looking like alligators, sleeping in the mire. +</p> + +<p> +Tom had long been picking his way cautiously through this treacherous forest; +stepping from tuft to tuft of rushes and roots which afforded precarious +footholds among deep sloughs; or pacing carefully, like a cat, among the +prostrate trunks of trees; startled now and then by the sudden screaming of the +bittern, or the quacking of a wild duck, rising on the wing from some solitary +pool. At length he arrived at a piece of firm ground, which ran out like a +peninsula into the deep bosom of the swamp. It had been one of the strongholds +of the Indians during their wars with the first colonists. Here they had thrown +up a kind of fort which they had looked upon as almost impregnable, and had +used as a place of refuge for their squaws and children. Nothing remained of +the Indian fort but a few embankments gradually sinking to the level of the +surrounding earth, and already overgrown in part by oaks and other forest +trees, the foliage of which formed a contrast to the dark pines and hemlocks of +the swamp. +</p> + +<p> +It was late in the dusk of evening that Tom Walker reached the old fort, and he +paused there for a while to rest himself. Any one but he would have felt +unwilling to linger in this lonely, melancholy place, for the common people had +a bad opinion of it from the stories handed down from the time of the Indian +wars; when it was asserted that the savages held incantations here and made +sacrifices to the evil spirit. Tom Walker, however, was not a man to be +troubled with any fears of the kind. +</p> + +<p> +He reposed himself for some time on the trunk of a fallen hemlock, listening to +the boding cry of the tree-toad, and delving with his walking-staff into a +mound of black mould at his feet. As he turned up the soil unconsciously, his +staff struck against something hard. He raked it out of the vegetable mould, +and lo! a cloven skull with an Indian tomahawk buried deep in it, lay before +him. The rust on the weapon showed the time that had elapsed since this death +blow had been given. It was a dreary memento of the fierce struggle that had +taken place in this last foothold of the Indian warriors. +</p> + +<p> +“Humph!” said Tom Walker, as he gave the skull a kick to shake the dirt from +it. +</p> + +<p> +“Let that skull alone!” said a gruff voice. +</p> + +<p> +Tom lifted up his eyes and beheld a great black man, seated directly Opposite +him on the stump of a tree. He was exceedingly surprised, having neither seen +nor heard any one approach, and he was still more perplexed on observing, as +well as the gathering gloom would permit, that the stranger was neither negro +nor Indian. It is true, he was dressed in a rude, half Indian garb, and had a +red belt or sash swathed round his body, but his face was neither black nor +copper color, but swarthy and dingy and begrimed with soot, as if he had been +accustomed to toil among fires and forges. He had a shock of coarse black hair, +that stood out from his head in all directions; and bore an axe on his +shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +He scowled for a moment at Tom with a pair of great red eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing in my grounds?” said the black man, with a hoarse growling +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Your grounds?” said Tom, with a sneer; “no more your grounds than mine: they +belong to Deacon Peabody.” +</p> + +<p> +“Deacon Peabody be d——d,” said the stranger, “as I flatter myself he will be, +if he does not look more to his own sins and less to his neighbor’s. Look +yonder, and see how Deacon Peabody is faring.” +</p> + +<p> +Tom looked in the direction that the stranger pointed, and beheld one of the +great trees, fair and flourishing without, but rotten at the core, and saw that +it had been nearly hewn through, so that the first high wind was likely to blow +it down. On the bark of the tree was scored the name of Deacon Peabody. He now +looked round and found most of the tall trees marked with the names of some +great men of the colony, and all more or less scored by the axe. The one on +which he had been seated, and which had evidently just been hewn down, bore the +name of Crowninshield; and he recollected a mighty rich man of that name, who +made a vulgar display of wealth, which it was whispered he had acquired by +buccaneering. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s just ready for burning!” said the black man, with a growl of triumph. +“You see I am likely to have a good stock of firewood for winter.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what right have you,” said Tom, “to cut down Deacon Peabody’s timber?” +</p> + +<p> +“The right of prior claim,” said the other. “This woodland belonged to me long +before one of your white-faced race put foot upon the soil.” +</p> + +<p> +“And pray, who are you, if I may be so bold?” said Tom. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I go by various names. I am the Wild Huntsman in some countries; the Black +Miner in others. In this neighborhood I am known by the name of the Black +Woodsman. I am he to whom the red men devoted this spot, and now and then +roasted a white man by way of sweet-smelling sacrifice. Since the red men have +been exterminated by you white savages, I amuse myself by presiding at the +persecutions of quakers and anabaptists; I am the great patron and prompter of +slave dealers, and the grand master of the Salem witches.” +</p> + +<p> +“The upshot of all which is, that, if I mistake not,” said Tom, sturdily, “you +are he commonly called Old Scratch.” +</p> + +<p> +“The same at your service!” replied the black man, with a half civil nod. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the opening of this interview, according to the old story, though it +has almost too familiar an air to be credited. One would think that to meet +with such a singular personage in this wild, lonely place, would have shaken +any man’s nerves; but Tom was a hard-minded fellow, not easily daunted, and he +had lived so long with a termagant wife, that he did not even fear the devil. +</p> + +<p> +It is said that after this commencement they had a long and earnest +Conversation together, as Tom returned homewards. The black man told him of +great sums of money which had been buried by Kidd the pirate, under the oak +trees on the high ridge not far from the morass. All these were under his +command and protected by his power, so that none could find them but such as +propitiated his favor. These he offered to place within Tom Walker’s reach, +having conceived an especial kindness for him: but they were to be had only on +certain conditions. What these conditions were, may easily be surmised, though +Tom never disclosed them publicly. They must have been very hard, for he +required time to think of them, and he was not a man to stick at trifles where +money was in view. When they had reached the edge of the swamp the stranger +paused. +</p> + +<p> +“What proof have I that all you have been telling me is true?” said Tom. +</p> + +<p> +“There is my signature,” said the black man, pressing his finger on Tom’s +forehead. So saying, he turned off among the thickets of the swamp, and seemed, +as Tom said, to go down, down, down, into the earth, until nothing but his head +and shoulders could be seen, and so on until he totally disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +When Tom reached home he found the black print of a finger burnt, as it were, +into his forehead, which nothing could obliterate. +</p> + +<p> +The first news his wife had to tell him was the sudden death of Absalom +Crowninshield, the rich buccaneer. It was announced in the papers with the +usual flourish, that “a great man had fallen in Israel.” +</p> + +<p> +Tom recollected the tree which his black friend had just hewn down, and which +was ready for burning. “Let the freebooter roast,” said Tom, “who cares!” He +now felt convinced that all he had heard and seen was no illusion. +</p> + +<p> +He was not prone to let his wife into his confidence; but as this was an uneasy +secret, he willingly shared it with her. All her avarice was awakened at the +mention of hidden gold, and she urged her husband to comply with the black +man’s terms and secure what would make them wealthy for life. However Tom might +have felt disposed to sell himself to the devil, he was determined not to do so +to oblige his wife; so he flatly refused out of the mere spirit of +contradiction. Many and bitter were the quarrels they had on the subject, but +the more she talked the more resolute was Tom not to be damned to please her. +At length she determined to drive the bargain on her own account, and if she +succeeded, to keep all the gain to herself. +</p> + +<p> +Being of the same fearless temper as her husband, she sat off for the old +Indian fort towards the close of a summer’s day. She was many hour’s absent. +When she came back she was reserved and sullen in her replies. She spoke +something of a black man whom she had met about twilight, hewing at the root of +a tall tree. He was sulky, however, and would not come to terms; she was to go +again with a propitiatory offering, but what it was she forebore to say. +</p> + +<p> +The next evening she sat off again for the swamp, with her apron heavily laden. +Tom waited and waited for her, but in vain: midnight came, but she did not make +her appearance; morning, noon, night returned, but still she did not come. Tom +now grew uneasy for her safety; especially as he found she had carried off in +her apron the silver tea pot and spoons and every portable article of value. +Another night elapsed, another morning came; but no wife. In a word, she was +ever heard of more. +</p> + +<p> +What was her real fate nobody knows, in consequence of so many pretending to +know. It is one of those facts that have become confounded by a variety of +historians. Some asserted that she lost her way among the tangled mazes of the +swamp and sunk into some pit or slough; others, more uncharitable, hinted that +she had eloped with the household booty, and made off to some other province; +while others assert that the tempter had decoyed her into a dismal quagmire, on +top of which her hat was found lying. In confirmation of this, it was said a +great black man with an axe on his shoulder was seen late that very evening +coming out of the swamp, carrying a bundle tied in a check apron, with an air +of surly triumph. +</p> + +<p> +The most current and probable story, however, observes that Tom Walker grew so +anxious about the fate of his wife and his property that he sat out at length +to seek them both at the Indian fort. During a long summer’s afternoon he +searched about the gloomy place, but no wife was to be seen. He called her name +repeatedly, but she was no where to be heard. The bittern alone responded to +his voice, as he flew screaming by; or the bull-frog croaked dolefully from a +neighboring pool. At length, it is said, just in the brown hour of twilight, +when the owls began to hoot and the bats to flit about, his attention was +attracted by the clamor of carrion crows that were hovering about a cypress +tree. He looked and beheld a bundle tied in a check apron and hanging in the +branches of a tree; with a great vulture perched hard by, as if keeping watch +upon it. He leaped with joy, for he recognized his wife’s apron, and supposed +it to contain the household valuables. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get hold of the property,” said he consolingly to himself, “and we will +endeavor to do without the woman.” +</p> + +<p> +As he scrambled up the tree the vulture spread its wide wings, and sailed off +screaming into the deep shadows of the forest. Tom seized the check apron, but, +woful sight! found nothing but a heart and liver tied up in it. +</p> + +<p> +Such, according to the most authentic old story, was all that was to be found +of Tom’s wife. She had probably attempted to deal with the black man as she had +been accustomed to deal with her husband; but though a female scold is +generally considered a match for the devil, yet in this instance she appears to +have had the worst of it. She must have died game, however: from the part that +remained unconquered. Indeed, it is said Tom noticed many prints of cloven feet +deeply stamped about the tree, and several handfuls of hair that looked as if +they had been plucked from the coarse black shock of the woodsman. Tom knew his +wife’s prowess by experience. He shrugged his shoulders as he looked at the +signs of a fierce clapper-clawing. “Egad,” said he to himself, “Old Scratch +must have had a tough time of it!” +</p> + +<p> +Tom consoled himself for the loss of his property by the loss of his wife; for +he was a little of a philosopher. He even felt something like gratitude towards +the black woodsman, who he considered had done him a kindness. He sought, +therefore, to cultivate a farther acquaintance with him, but for some time +without success; the old black legs played shy, for whatever people may think, +he is not always to be had for calling for; he knows how to play his cards when +pretty sure of his game. +</p> + +<p> +At length, it is said, when delay had whetted Tom’s eagerness to the quick, and +prepared him to agree to any thing rather than not gain the promised treasure, +he met the black man one evening in his usual woodman dress, with his axe on +his shoulder, sauntering along the edge of the swamp, and humming a tune. He +affected to receive Tom’s advance with great indifference, made brief replies, +and went on humming his tune. +</p> + +<p> +By degrees, however, Tom brought him to business, and they began to haggle +about the terms on which the former was to have the pirate’s treasure. There +was one condition which need not be mentioned, being generally understood in +all cases where the devil grants favors; but there were others about which, +though of less importance, he was inflexibly obstinate. He insisted that the +money found through his means should be employed in his service. He proposed, +therefore, that Tom should employ it in the black traffic; that is to say, that +he should fit out a slave ship. This, however, Tom resolutely refused; he was +bad enough, in all conscience; but the devil himself could not tempt him to +turn slave dealer. +</p> + +<p> +Finding Tom so squeamish on this point, he did not insist upon it, but proposed +instead that he should turn usurer; the devil being extremely anxious for the +increase of usurers, looking upon them as his peculiar people. +</p> + +<p> +To this no objections were made, for it was just to Tom’s taste. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall open a broker’s shop in Boston next month,” said the black man. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll do it to-morrow, if you wish,” said Tom Walker. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall lend money at two per cent a month.” +</p> + +<p> +“Egad, I’ll charge four!” replied Tom Walker. +</p> + +<p> +“You shall extort bonds, foreclose mortgages, drive the merchant to +bankruptcy—” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll drive him to the d—-l,” cried Tom Walker, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“You are the usurer for my money!” said the black legs, with delight. “When +will you want the rhino?” +</p> + +<p> +“This very night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Done!” said the devil. +</p> + +<p> +“Done!” said Tom Walker.—So they shook hands and struck a bargain. +</p> + +<p> +A few days’ time saw Tom Walker seated behind his desk in a counting house in +Boston. His reputation for a ready-moneyed man, who would lend money out for a +good consideration, soon spread abroad. Every body remembers the days of +Governor Belcher, when money was particularly scarce. It was a time of paper +credit. The country had been deluged with government bills; the famous Land +Bank had been established; there had been a rage for speculating; the people +had run mad with schemes for new settlements; for building cities in the +wilderness; land jobbers went about with maps of grants, and townships, and +Eldorados, lying nobody knew where, but which every body was ready to purchase. +In a word, the great speculating fever which breaks out every now and then in +the country, had raged to an alarming degree, and body was dreaming of making +sudden fortunes from nothing. As usual, the fever had subsided; the dream had +gone off, and the imaginary fortunes with it; the patients were left in doleful +plight, and the whole country resounded with the consequent cry of “hard +times.” +</p> + +<p> +At this propitious time of public distress did Tom Walker set up as a usurer in +Boston. His door was soon thronged by customers. The needy and the adventurous; +the gambling speculator; the dreaming land jobber; the thriftless tradesman; +the merchant with cracked credit; in short, every one driven to raise money by +desperate means and desperate sacrifices, hurried to Tom Walker. +</p> + +<p> +Thus Tom was the universal friend of the needy, and he acted like a “friend in +need;” that is to say, he always exacted good pay and good security. In +proportion to the distress of the applicant was the hardness of his terms. He +accumulated bonds and mortgages; gradually squeezed his customers closer and +closer; and sent them, at length, dry as a sponge from his door. +</p> + +<p> +In this way he made money hand over hand; became a rich and mighty man, and +exalted his cocked hat upon ’change. He built himself, as usual, a vast house, +out of ostentation; but left the greater part of it unfinished and unfurnished +out of parsimony. He even set up a carriage in the fullness of his vain-glory, +though he nearly starved the horses which drew it; and as the ungreased wheels +groaned and screeched on the axle trees, you would have thought you heard the +souls of the poor debtors he was squeezing. +</p> + +<p> +As Tom waxed old, however, he grew thoughtful. Having secured the good things +of this world, he began to feel anxious about those of the next. He thought +with regret on the bargain he had made with his black friend, and set his wits +to work to cheat him out of the conditions. He became, therefore, all of a +sudden, a violent church-goer. He prayed loudly and strenuously as if heaven +were to be taken by force of lungs. Indeed, one might always tell when he had +sinned most during the week, by the clamor of his Sunday devotion. The quiet +Christians who had been modestly and steadfastly travelling Zion-ward, were +struck with self-reproach at seeing themselves so suddenly outstripped in their +career by this new-made convert. Tom was as rigid in religious, as in money +matters; he was a stern supervisor and censurer of his neighbors, and seemed to +think every sin entered up to their account became a credit on his own side of +the page. He even talked of the expediency of reviving the persecution of +quakers and anabaptists. In a word, Tom’s zeal became as notorious as his +riches. +</p> + +<p> +Still, in spite of all this strenuous attention to forms, Tom had a Lurking +dread that the devil, after all, would have his due. That he might not be taken +unawares, therefore, it is said he always carried a small Bible in his coat +pocket. He had also a great folio Bible on his counting-house desk, and would +frequently be found reading it when people called on business; on such +occasions he would lay his green spectacles on the book, to mark the place, +while he turned round to drive some usurious bargain. +</p> + +<p> +Some say that Tom grew a little crack-brained in his old days, and that +fancying his end approaching, he had his horse new shod, saddled and bridled, +and buried with his feet uppermost; because he supposed that at the last day +the world would be turned upside down; in which case he should find his horse +standing ready for mounting, and he was determined at the worst to give his old +friend a run for it. This, however, is probably a mere old wives’ fable. If he +really did take such a precaution it was totally superfluous; at least so says +the authentic old legend, which closes his story in the following manner: +</p> + +<p> +On one hot afternoon in the dog days, just as a terrible black thunder-gust was +coming up, Tom sat in his counting-house in his white linen cap and India silk +morning-gown. He was on the point of foreclosing a mortgage, by which he would +complete the ruin of an unlucky land speculator for whom he had professed the +greatest friendship. The poor land jobber begged him to grant a few months’ +indulgence. Tom had grown testy and irritated and refused another day. +</p> + +<p> +“My family will be ruined and brought upon the parish,” said the land jobber. +</p> + +<p> +“Charity begins at home,” replied Tom, “I must take care of myself in these +hard times.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have made so much money out of me,” said the speculator. +</p> + +<p> +Tom lost his patience and his piety—“The devil take me,” said he, “if I have +made a farthing!” +</p> + +<p> +Just then there were three loud knocks at the street door. He stepped out to +see who was there. A black man was holding a black horse which neighed and +stamped with impatience. +</p> + +<p> +“Tom, you’re come for!” said the black fellow, gruffly. Tom shrunk back, but +too late. He had left his little Bible at the bottom of his coat pocket, and +his big Bible on the desk buried under the mortgage he was about to foreclose: +never was sinner taken more unawares. The black man whisked him like a child +astride the horse and away he galloped in the midst of a thunder-storm. The +clerks stuck their pens behind their ears and stared after him from the +windows. Away went Tom Walker, dashing down the street; his white cap bobbing +up and down; his morning-gown fluttering in the wind, and his steed striking +fire out of the pavement at every bound. When the clerks turned to look for the +black man he had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Walker never returned to foreclose the mortgage. A countryman who lived on +the borders of the swamp, reported that in the height of the thunder-gust he +had heard a great clattering of hoofs and a howling along the road, and that +when he ran to the window he just caught sight of a figure, such as I have +described, on a horse that galloped like mad across the fields, over the hills +and down into the black hemlock swamp towards the old Indian fort; and that +shortly after a thunder-bolt fell in that direction which seemed to set the +whole forest in a blaze. +</p> + +<p> +The good people of Boston shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, but +had been so much accustomed to witches and goblins and tricks of the devil in +all kinds of shapes from the first settlement of the colony, that they were not +so much horror-struck as might have been expected. Trustees were appointed to +take charge of Tom’s effects. There was nothing, however, to administer upon. +On searching his coffers all his bonds and mortgages were found reduced to +cinders. In place of gold and silver, his iron chest was filled with chips and +shavings; two skeletons lay in his stable instead of his half-starved horses, +and the very next day his great house took fire and was burnt to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the end of Tom Walker and his ill-gotten wealth. Let all griping +money-brokers lay this story to heart. The truth of it is not to be doubted. +The very hole under the oak trees, from whence he dug Kidd’s money, is to be +seen to this day; and the neighboring swamp and old Indian fort is often +haunted in stormy nights by a figure on horseback, in a morning-gown and white +cap, which is doubtless the troubled spirit of the usurer. In fact, the story +has resolved itself into a proverb, and is the origin of that popular saying +prevalent throughout New-England, of “The Devil and Tom Walker.” +</p> + +<p> +Such, as nearly as I can recollect, was the tenor of the tale told by the Cape +Cod whaler. There were divers trivial particulars which I have omitted, and +which wiled away the morning very pleasantly, until the time of tide favorable +for fishing being passed, it was proposed that we should go to land, and +refresh ourselves under the trees, until the noontide heat should have abated. +</p> + +<p> +We accordingly landed on a delectable part of the island of Mannahatta, in that +shady and embowered tract formerly under dominion of the ancient family of the +Hardenbrooks. It was a spot well known to me in the course of the aquatic +expeditions of my boyhood. Not far from where we landed, was an old Dutch +family vault, in the side of a bank, which had been an object of great awe and +fable among my schoolboy associates. There were several mouldering coffins +within; but what gave it a fearful interest with us, was its being connected in +our minds with the pirate wreck which lay among the rocks of Hell Gate. There +were also stories of smuggling connected with it, particularly during a time +that this retired spot was owned by a noted burgher called Ready Money Prevost; +a man of whom it was whispered that he had many and mysterious dealings with +parts beyond seas. All these things, however, had been jumbled together in our +minds in that vague way in which such things are mingled up in the tales of +boyhood. +</p> + +<p> +While I was musing upon these matters my companions had spread a repast, from +the contents of our well-stored pannier, and we solaced ourselves during the +warm sunny hours of mid-day under the shade of a broad chestnut, on the cool +grassy carpet that swept down to the water’s edge. While lolling on the grass I +summoned up the dusky recollections of my boyhood respecting this place, and +repeated them like the imperfectly remembered traces of a dream, for the +entertainment of my companions. When I had finished, a worthy old burgher, John +Josse Vandermoere, the same who once related to me the adventures of Dolph +Heyliger, broke silence and observed, that he recollected a story about +money-digging which occurred in this very neighborhood. As we knew him to be +one of the most authentic narrators of the province we begged him to let us +have the particulars, and accordingly, while we refreshed ourselves with a +clean long pipe of Blase Moore’s tobacco, the authentic John Josse Vandermoere +related the following tale. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap25"></a>WOLFERT WEBBER; OR, GOLDEN DREAMS</h3> + +<p> +In the year of grace one thousand seven hundred and—blank—for I do not remember +the precise date; however, it was somewhere in the early part of the last +century, there lived in the ancient city of the Manhattoes a worthy burgher, +Wolfert Webber by name. He was descended from old Cobus Webber of the Brille in +Holland, one of the original settlers, famous for introducing the cultivation +of cabbages, and who came over to the province during the protectorship of +Oloffe Van Kortlandt, otherwise called the Dreamer. The field in which Cobus +Webber first planted himself and his cabbages had remained ever since in the +family, who continued in the same line of husbandry, with that praiseworthy +perseverance for which our Dutch burghers are noted. The whole family genius, +during several generations was devoted to the study and development of this one +noble vegetable; and to this concentration of intellect may doubtless be +ascribed the prodigious size and renown to which the Webber cabbages attained. +</p> + +<p> +The Webber dynasty continued in uninterrupted succession; and never did a line +give more unquestionable proofs of legitimacy. The eldest son succeeded to the +looks, as well as the territory of his sire; and had the portraits of this line +of tranquil potentates been taken, they would have presented a row of heads +marvellously resembling in shape and magnitude the vegetables over which they +reigned. +</p> + +<p> +The seat of government continued unchanged in the family mansion:—a Dutch-built +house, with a front, or rather gable-end of yellow brick, tapering to a point, +with the customary iron weathercock at the top. Every thing about the building +bore the air of long-settled ease and security. Flights of martins peopled the +little coops nailed against the walls, and swallows built their nests under the +eaves; and every one knows that these house-loving birds bring good luck to the +dwelling where they take up their abode. In a bright sunny morning in early +summer, it was delectable to hear their cheerful notes, as they sported about +in the pure, sweet air, chirping forth, as it were, the greatness and +prosperity of the Webbers. +</p> + +<p> +Thus quietly and comfortably did this excellent family vegetate under the shade +of a mighty button-wood tree, which by little and little grew so great as +entirely to overshadow their palace. The city gradually spread its suburbs +round their domain. Houses sprung up to interrupt their prospects. The rural +lanes in the vicinity began to grow into the bustle and populousness of +streets; in short, with all the habits of rustic life they began to find +themselves the inhabitants of a city. +</p> + +<p> +Still, however, they maintained their hereditary character, and Hereditary +possessions, with all the tenacity of petty German princes in the midst of the +Empire. Wolfert was the last of the line, and succeeded to the patriarchal +bench at the door, under the family tree, and swayed the sceptre of his +fathers, a kind of rural potentate in the midst of a metropolis. +</p> + +<p> +To share the cares and sweets of sovereignty, he had taken unto himself a +help-mate, one of that excellent kind called stirring women; that is to say, +she was one of those notable little housewives who are always busy when there +is nothing to do. Her activity however, took one particular direction; her +whole life seemed devoted to intense knitting; whether at home or abroad; +walking or sitting, her needles were continually in motion, and it is even +affirmed that by her unwearied industry she very nearly supplied her household +with stockings throughout the year. This worthy couple were blessed with one +daughter, who was brought up with great tenderness and care; uncommon pains had +been taken with her education, so that she could stitch in every variety of +way; make all kinds of pickles and preserves, and mark her own name on a +sampler. The influence of her taste was seen also in the family garden, where +the ornamental began to mingle with the useful; whole rows of fiery marigolds +and splendid hollyhocks bordered the cabbage-beds; and gigantic sunflowers +lolled their broad, jolly faces over the fences, seeming to ogle most +affectionately the passers-by. +</p> + +<p> +Thus reigned and vegetated Wolfert Webber over his paternal acres, peaceably +and contentedly. Not but that, like all other sovereigns, he had his occasional +cares and vexations. The growth of his native city sometimes caused him +annoyance. His little territory gradually became hemmed in by streets and +houses, which intercepted air and sunshine. He was now and then subject to the +irruptions of the border population, that infest the streets of a metropolis, +who would sometimes make midnight forays into his dominions, and carry off +captive whole platoons of his noblest subjects. Vagrant swine would make a +descent, too, now and then, when the gate was left open, and lay all waste +before them; and mischievous urchins would often decapitate the illustrious +sunflowers, the glory of the garden, as they lolled their heads so fondly over +the walls. Still all these were petty grievances, which might now and then +ruffle the surface of his mind, as a summer breeze will ruffle the surface of a +mill-pond; but they could not disturb the deep-seated quiet of his soul. He +would seize a trusty staff, that stood behind the door, issue suddenly out, and +anoint the back of the aggressor, whether pig or urchin, and then return within +doors, marvellously refreshed and tranquillized. +</p> + +<p> +The chief cause of anxiety to honest Wolfert, however, was the growing +prosperity of the city. The expenses of living doubled and trebled; but he +could not double and treble the magnitude of his cabbages; and the number of +competitors prevented the increase of price; thus, therefore, while every one +around him grew richer, Wolfert grew poorer, and he could not, for the life of +him, perceive how the evil was to be remedied. +</p> + +<p> +This growing care which increased from day to day, had its gradual effect upon +our worthy burgher; insomuch, that it at length implanted two or three wrinkles +on his brow; things unknown before in the family of the Webbers; and it seemed +to pinch up the corners of his cocked hat into an expression of anxiety, +totally opposite to the tranquil, broad-brimmed, low-crowned beavers of his +illustrious progenitors. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps even this would not have materially disturbed the serenity of his mind +had he had only himself and his wife to care for; but there was his daughter +gradually growing to maturity; and all the world knows when daughters begin to +ripen no fruit or flower requires so much looking after. I have no talent at +describing female charms, else fain would I depict the progress of this little +Dutch beauty. How her blue eyes grew deeper and deeper, and her cherry lips +redder and redder; and how she ripened and ripened, and rounded and rounded in +the opening breath of sixteen summers, until, in her seventeenth spring, she +seemed ready to burst out of her bodice like a half-blown rose-bud. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, well-a-day! could I but show her as she was then, tricked out on a Sunday +morning in the hereditary finery of the old Dutch clothes-press, of which her +mother had confided to her the key. The wedding dress of her grandmother, +modernized for use, with sundry ornaments, handed down as heirlooms in the +family. Her pale brown hair smoothed with buttermilk in flat waving lines on +each side of her fair forehead. The chain of yellow virgin gold, that encircled +her neck; the little cross, that just rested at the entrance of a soft valley +of happiness, as if it would sanctify the place. The—but pooh!—it is not for an +old man like me to be prosing about female beauty: suffice it to say, Amy had +attained her seventeenth year. Long since had her sampler exhibited hearts in +couples desperately transfixed with arrows, and true lovers’ knots worked in +deep blue silk; and it was evident she began to languish for some more +interesting occupation than the rearing of sunflowers or pickling of cucumbers. +</p> + +<p> +At this critical period of female existence, when the heart within a damsel’s +bosom, like its emblem, the miniature which hangs without, is apt to be +engrossed by a single image, a new visitor began to make his appearance under +the roof of Wolfert Webber. This was Dirk Waldron, the only son of a poor +widow, but who could boast of more fathers than any lad in the province; for +his mother had had four husbands, and this only child, so that though born in +her last wedlock, he might fairly claim to be the tardy fruit of a long course +of cultivation. This son of four fathers united the merits and the vigor of his +sires. If he had not a great family before him, he seemed likely to have a +great one after him; for you had only to look at the fresh gamesome youth, to +see that he was formed to be the founder of a mighty race. +</p> + +<p> +This youngster gradually became an intimate visitor of the family. He talked +little, but he sat long. He filled the father’s pipe when it was empty, +gathered up the mother’s knitting-needle, or ball of worsted when it fell to +the ground; stroked the sleek coat of the tortoise-shell cat, and replenished +the teapot for the daughter from the bright copper kettle that sung before the +fire. All these quiet little offices may seem of trifling import, but when true +love is translated into Low Dutch, it is in this way that it eloquently +expresses itself. They were not lost upon the Webber family. The winning +youngster found marvellous favor in the eyes of the mother; the tortoise-shell +cat, albeit the most staid and demure of her kind, gave indubitable signs of +approbation of his visits, the tea-kettle seemed to sing out a cheering note of +welcome at his approach, and if the sly glances of the daughter might be +rightly read, as she sat bridling and dimpling, and sewing by her mother’s +side, she was not a wit behind Dame Webber, or grimalkin, or the tea-kettle in +good-will. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert alone saw nothing of what was going on. Profoundly wrapt up in +meditation on the growth of the city and his cabbages, he sat looking in the +fire, and puffing his pipe in silence. One night, however, as the gentle Amy, +according to custom, lighted her lover to the outer door, and he, according to +custom, took his parting salute, the smack resounded so vigorously through the +long, silent entry as to startle even the dull ear of Wolfert. He was slowly +roused to a new source of anxiety. It had never entered into his head, that +this mere child, who, as it seemed but the other day, had been climbing about +his knees, and playing with dolls and baby-houses, could all at once be +thinking of love and matrimony. He rubbed his eyes, examined into the fact, and +really found that while he had been dreaming of other matters, she had actually +grown into a woman, and what was more, had fallen in love. Here were new cares +for poor Wolfert. He was a kind father, but he was a prudent man. The young man +was a very stirring lad; but then he had neither money or land. Wolfert’s ideas +all ran in one channel, and he saw no alternative in case of a marriage, but to +portion off the young couple with a corner of his cabbage garden, the whole of +which was barely sufficient for the support of his family. +</p> + +<p> +Like a prudent father, therefore, he determined to nip this passion in the bud, +and forbade the youngster the house, though sorely did it go against his +fatherly heart, and many a silent tear did it cause in the bright eye of his +daughter. She showed herself, however, a pattern of filial piety and obedience. +She never pouted and sulked; she never flew in the face of parental authority; +she never fell into a passion, or fell into hysterics, as many romantic +novel-read young ladies would do. Not she, indeed! She was none such heroical +rebellious trumpery, I warrant ye. On the contrary, she acquiesced like an +obedient daughter; shut the street-door in her lover’s face, and if ever she +did grant him an interview, it was either out of the kitchen window, or over +the garden fence. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert was deeply cogitating these things in his mind, and his brow wrinkled +with unusual care, as he wended his way one Saturday afternoon to a rural inn, +about two miles from the city. It was a favorite resort of the Dutch part of +the community from being always held by a Dutch line of landlords, and +retaining an air and relish of the good old times. It was a Dutch-built house, +that had probably been a country seat of some opulent burgher in the early time +of the settlement. It stood near a point of land, called Corlears Hook, which +stretches out into the Sound, and against which the tide, at its flux and +reflux, sets with extraordinary rapidity. The venerable and somewhat crazy +mansion was distinguished from afar, by a grove of elms and sycamores that +seemed to wave a hospitable invitation, while a few weeping willows with their +dank, drooping foliage, resembling falling waters, gave an idea of coolness, +that rendered it an attractive spot during the heats of summer. +</p> + +<p> +Here, therefore, as I said, resorted many of the old inhabitants of the +Manhattoes, where, while some played at the shuffle-board and quoits and +ninepins, others smoked a deliberate pipe, and talked over public affairs. +</p> + +<p> +It was on a blustering autumnal afternoon that Wolfert made his visit to the +inn. The grove of elms and willows was stripped of its leaves, which whirled in +rustling eddies about the fields. +</p> + +<p> +The ninepin alley was deserted, for the premature chilliness of the day had +driven the company within doors. As it was Saturday afternoon, the habitual +club was in session, composed principally of regular Dutch burghers, though +mingled occasionally with persons of various, character and country, as is +natural in a place of such motley population. +</p> + +<p> +Beside the fire-place, and in a huge leather-bottomed armchair, sat the +dictator of this little world, the venerable Rem, or, as it was pronounced, +Ramm Rapelye. +</p> + +<p> +He was a man of Walloon race, and illustrious for the antiquity of his line, +his great grandmother having been the first white child born in the province. +But he was still more illustrious for his wealth and dignity: he had long +filled the noble office of alderman, and was a man to whom the governor himself +took off his hat. He had maintained possession of the leathern-bottomed chair +from time immemorial; and had gradually waxed in bulk as he sat in his seat of +government, until in the course of years he filled its whole magnitude. His +word was decisive with his subjects; for he was so rich a man, that he was +never expected to support any opinion by argument. The landlord waited on him +with peculiar officiousness; not that he paid better than his neighbors, but +then the coin of a rich man seems always to be so much more acceptable. The +landlord had always a pleasant word and a joke, to insinuate in the ear of the +august Ramm. It is true, Ramm never laughed, and, indeed, maintained a +mastiff-like gravity, and even surliness of aspect, yet he now and then +rewarded mine host with a token of approbation; which, though nothing more nor +less than a kind of grunt, yet delighted the landlord more than a broad laugh +from a poorer man. +</p> + +<p> +“This will be a rough night for the money-diggers,” said mine host, as a gust +of wind howled round the house, and rattled at the windows. +</p> + +<p> +“What, are they at their works again?” said an English half-pay captain, with +one eye, who was a frequent attendant at the inn. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, are they,” said the landlord, “and well may they be. They’ve had luck of +late. They say a great pot of money has been dug up in the field, just behind +Stuyvesant’s orchard. Folks think it must have been buried there in old times +by Peter Stuyvesant, the Dutch Governor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fudge!” said the one-eyed man of war, as he added a small portion of water to +a bottom of brandy. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you may believe, or not, as you please,” said mine host, somewhat +nettled; “but every body knows that the old governor buried a great deal of his +money at the time of the Dutch troubles, when the English red-coats seized on +the province. They say, too, the old gentleman walks; aye, and in the very Same +dress that he wears in the picture which hangs up in the family house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fudge!” said the half-pay officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Fudge, if you please!—But didn’t Corney Van Zandt see him at midnight, +stalking about in the meadow with his wooden leg, and a drawn sword in his +hand, that flashed like fire? And what can he be walking for, but because +people have been troubling the place where he buried his money in old times?” +</p> + +<p> +Here the landlord was interrupted by several guttural sounds from Ramm Rapelye, +betokening that he was laboring with the unusual production of an idea. As he +was too great a man to be slighted by a prudent publican, mine host +respectfully paused until he should deliver himself. The corpulent frame of +this mighty burgher now gave all the symptoms of a volcanic mountain on the +point of an eruption. First, there was a certain heaving of the abdomen, not +unlike an earthquake; then was emitted a cloud of tobacco smoke from that +crater, his mouth; then there was a kind of rattle in the throat, as if the +idea were working its way up through a region of phlegm; then there were +several disjointed members of a sentence thrown out, ending in a cough; at +length his voice forced its way in the slow, but absolute tone of a man who +feels the weight of his purse, if not of his ideas; every portion of his speech +being marked by a testy puff of tobacco smoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Who talks of old Peter Stuyvesant’s walking?—puff—Have people no respect for +persons?—puff—puff—Peter Stuyvesant knew better what to do with his money than +to bury it—puff—I know the Stuyvesant family—puff—every one of them—puff—not a +more respectable family in the province—puff—old standers—puff—warm +householders—puff—none of your upstarts—puff—puff—puff.—Don’t talk to me of +Peter Stuyvesant’s walking—puff—puff—puff—puff.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the redoubtable Ramm contracted his brow, clasped up his mouth, till it +wrinkled at each corner, and redoubled his smoking with such vehemence, that +the cloudly volumes soon wreathed round his head, as the smoke envelopes the +awful summit of Mount Etna. +</p> + +<p> +A general silence followed the sudden rebuke of this very rich man. The +subject, however, was too interesting to be readily abandoned. The conversation +soon broke forth again from the lips of Peechy Prauw Van Hook, the chronicler +of the club, one of those narrative old men who seem to grow incontinent of +words, as they grow old, until their talk flows from them almost involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +Peechy, who could at any time tell as many stories in an evening as his hearers +could digest in a month, now resumed the conversation, by affirming that, to +his knowledge, money had at different times been dug up in various parts of the +island. The lucky persons who had discovered them had always dreamt of them +three times beforehand, and what was worthy of remark, these treasures had +never been found but by some descendant of the good old Dutch families, which +clearly proved that they had been buried by Dutchmen in the olden time. +</p> + +<p> +“Fiddle-stick with your Dutchmen!” cried the half-pay officer. “The Dutch had +nothing to do with them. They were all buried by Kidd, the pirate, and his +crew.” +</p> + +<p> +Here a key-note was touched that roused the whole company. The name of Captain +Kidd was like a talisman in those times, and was associated with a thousand +marvellous stories. +</p> + +<p> +The half-pay officer was a man of great weight among the peaceable members of +the club, by reason of his military character, and of the gunpowder scenes +which, by his own account, he had witnessed. +</p> + +<p> +The golden stories of Kidd, however, were resolutely rivalled by the tales of +Peechy Prauw, who, rather than suffer his Dutch progenitors to be eclipsed by a +foreign freebooter, enriched every spot in the neighborhood with the hidden +wealth of Peter Stuyvesant and his contemporaries. +</p> + +<p> +Not a word of this conversation was lost upon Wolfert Webber. He returned +pensively home, full of magnificent ideas of buried riches. The soil of his +native island seemed to be turned into gold-dust; and every field teemed with +treasure. His head almost reeled at the thought how often he must have +heedlessly rambled over places where countless sums lay, scarcely covered by +the turf beneath his feet. His mind was in a vertigo with this whirl of new +ideas. As he came in sight of the venerable mansion of his forefathers, and the +little realm where the Webbers had so long and so contentedly flourished, his +gorge rose at the narrowness of his destiny. +</p> + +<p> +“Unlucky Wolfert!” exclaimed he, “others can go to bed and dream themselves +into whole mines of wealth; they have but to seize a spade in the morning, and +turn up doubloons like potatoes; but thou must dream of hardship, and rise to +poverty—must dig thy field from year’s end to year’s end, and—and yet raise +nothing but cabbages!” +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert Webber went to bed with a heavy heart; and it was long before the +golden visions that disturbed his brain, permitted him to sink into repose. The +same visions, however, extended into his sleeping thoughts, and assumed a more +definite form. He dreamt that he had discovered an immense treasure in the +centre of his garden. At every stroke of the spade he laid bare a golden ingot; +diamond crosses sparkled out of the dust; bags of money turned up their +bellies, corpulent with pieces of eight, or venerable doubloons; and chests, +wedged close with moidores, ducats, and pistareens, yawned before his ravished +eyes, and vomited forth their glittering contents. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert awoke a poorer man than ever. He had no heart to go about his daily +concerns, which appeared so paltry and profitless; but sat all day long in the +chimney-corner, picturing to himself ingots and heaps of gold in the fire. The +next night his dream was repeated. He was again in his garden, digging, and +laying open stores of hidden wealth. There was something very singular in this +repetition. He passed another day of reverie, and though it was cleaning-day, +and the house, as usual in Dutch households, completely topsy-turvy, yet he sat +unmoved amidst the general uproar. +</p> + +<p> +The third night he went to bed with a palpitating heart. He put on his red +nightcap, wrong side outwards for good luck. It was deep midnight before his +anxious mind could settle itself into sleep. Again the golden dream was +repeated, and again he saw his garden teeming with ingots and money-bags. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert rose the next morning in complete bewilderment. A dream three times +repeated was never known to lie; and if so, his fortune was made. +</p> + +<p> +In his agitation he put on his waistcoat with the hind part before, and this +was a corroboration of good luck. He no longer doubted that a huge store of +money lay buried somewhere in his cabbage-field, coyly waiting to be sought +for, and he half repined at having so long been scratching about the surface of +the soil, instead of digging to the centre. +</p> + +<p> +He took his seat at the breakfast-table full of these speculations; asked his +daughter to put a lump of gold in to his tea, and on handing his wife a plate +of slap-jacks, begging her to help herself to a doubloon. +</p> + +<p> +His grand care now was how to secure this immense treasure without it being +known. Instead of working regularly in his grounds in the day-time, he now +stole from his bed at night, and with spade and pickaxe, went to work to rip up +and dig about his paternal acres, from one end to the other. In a little time +the whole garden, which had presented such a goodly and regular appearance, +with its phalanx of cabbages, like a vegetable army in battle array, was +reduced to a scene of devastation, while the relentless Wolfert, with nightcap +on head, and lantern and spade in hand, stalked through the slaughtered ranks, +the destroying angel of his own vegetable world. +</p> + +<p> +Every morning bore testimony to the ravages of the preceding night in cabbages +of all ages and conditions, from the tender sprout to the full-grown head, +piteously rooted from their quiet beds like worthless weeds, and left to wither +in the sunshine. It was in vain Wolfert’s wife remonstrated; it was in vain his +darling daughter wept over the destruction of some favorite marygold. “Thou +shalt have gold of another guess-sort,” he would cry, chucking her under the +chin; “thou shalt have a string of crooked ducats for thy wedding-necklace, my +child.” His family began really to fear that the poor man’s wits were diseased. +He muttered in his sleep at night of mines of wealth, of pearls and diamonds +and bars of gold. In the day-time he was moody and abstracted, and walked about +as if in a trance. Dame Webber held frequent councils with all the old women of +the neighborhood, not omitting the parish dominie; scarce an hour in the day +but a knot of them might be seen wagging their white caps together round her +door, while the poor woman made some piteous recital. The daughter, too, was +fain to seek for more frequent consolation from the stolen interviews of her +favored swain, Dirk Waldron. The delectable little Dutch songs with which she +used to dulcify the house grew less and less frequent, and she would forget her +sewing and look wistfully in her father’s face as he sat pondering by the +fireside. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert caught her eye one day fixed on him thus anxiously, and for a moment +was roused from his golden reveries—“Cheer up, my girl,” said he, exultingly, +“why dost thou droop?—thou shalt hold up thy head one day with the—and the +Schenaerhorns, the Van Hornes, and the Van Dams—the patroon himself shall be +glad to get thee for his son!” +</p> + +<p> +Amy shook her head at this vain-glorious boast, and was more than ever in doubt +of the soundness of the good man’s intellect. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime Wolfert went on digging, but the field was extensive, and as +his dream had indicated no precise spot, he had to dig at random. The winter +set in before one-tenth of the scene of promise had been explored. The ground +became too frozen and the nights too cold for the labors of the spade. No +sooner, however, did the returning warmth of spring loosen the soil, and the +small frogs begin to pipe in the meadows, but Wolfert resumed his labors with +renovated zeal. Still, however, the hours of industry were reversed. Instead of +working cheerily all day, planting and setting out his vegetables, he remained +thoughtfully idle, until the shades of night summoned him to his secret labors. +In this way he continued to dig from night to night, and week to week, and +month to month, but not a stiver did he find. On the contrary, the more he +digged the poorer he grew. The rich soil of his garden was digged away, and the +sand and gravel from beneath were thrown to the surface, until the whole field +presented an aspect of sandy barrenness. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime the seasons gradually rolled on. The little frogs that had +piped in the meadows in early spring, croaked as bull-frogs in the brooks +during the summer heats, and then sunk into silence. The peach tree budded, +blossomed, and bore its fruit. The swallows and martins came, twittered about +the roof, built their nests, reared their young, held their congress along the +eaves, and then winged their flight in search of another spring. The +caterpillar spun its winding-sheet, dangled in it from the great buttonwood +tree that shaded the house, turned into a moth, fluttered with the last +sunshine of summer, and disappeared; and finally the leaves of the buttonwood +tree turned yellow, then brown, then rustled one by one to the ground, and +whirling about in little eddies of wind and dust, whispered that winter was at +hand. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert gradually awoke from his dream of wealth as the year declined. He had +reared no crop to supply the wants of his household during the sterility of +winter. The season was long and severe, and for the first time the family was +really straightened in its comforts. By degrees a revulsion of thought took +place in Wolfert’s mind, common to those whose golden dreams have been +disturbed by pinching realities. The idea gradually stole upon him that he +should come to want. He already considered himself one of the most unfortunate +men in the province, having lost such an incalculable amount of undiscovered +treasure, and now, when thousands of pounds had eluded his search, to be +perplexed for shillings and pence was cruel in the extreme. +</p> + +<p> +Haggard care gathered about his brow; he went about with a money-seeking air, +his eyes bent downwards into the dust, and carrying his hands in his pockets, +as men are apt to do when they have nothing else to put into them. He could not +even pass the city almshouse without giving it a rueful glance, as if destined +to be his future abode. +</p> + +<p> +The strangeness of his conduct and of his looks occasioned much speculation and +remark. For a long time he was suspected of being crazy, and then every body +pitied him; at length it began to be suspected that he was poor, and then every +body avoided him. +</p> + +<p> +The rich old burghers of his acquaintance met him, outside of the door when he +called, entertained him hospitably on the threshold, pressed him warmly by the +hand on parting, shook their heads as he walked away, with the kind-hearted +expression of “poor Wolfert,” and turned a corner nimbly, if by chance they saw +him approaching as they walked the streets. Even the barber and cobbler of the +neighborhood, and a tattered tailor in an alley hard by, three of the poorest +and merriest rogues in the world, eyed him with that abundant sympathy which +usually attends a lack of means, and there is not a doubt but their pockets +would have been at his command, only that they happened to be empty. +</p> + +<p> +Thus every body deserted the Webber mansion, as if poverty were contagious, +like the plague; every body but honest Dirk Waldron, who still kept up his +stolen visits to the daughter, and indeed seemed to wax more affectionate as +the fortunes of his mistress were on the wane. +</p> + +<p> +Many months had elapsed since Wolfert had frequented his old resort, the rural +inn. He was taking a long lonely walk one Saturday afternoon, musing over his +wants and disappointments, when his feet took instinctively their wonted +direction, and on awaking out of a reverie, he found himself before the door of +the inn. For some moments he hesitated whether to enter, but his heart yearned +for companionship; and where can a ruined man find better companionship than at +a tavern, where there is neither sober example nor sober advice to put him out +of countenance? +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert found several of the old frequenters of the tavern at their usual +posts, and seated in their usual places; but one was missing, the great Ramm +Rapelye, who for many years had filled the chair of state. His place was +supplied by a stranger, who seemed, however, completely at home in the chair +and the tavern. He was rather under-size, but deep-chested, square, and +muscular. His broad shoulders, double joints, and bow-knees, gave tokens of +prodigious strength. His face was dark and weather-beaten; a deep scar, as if +from the slash of a cutlass, had almost divided his nose, and made a gash in +his upper lip, through which his teeth shone like a bull-dog’s. A mass of iron +gray hair gave a grizzly finish to his hard-favored visage. His dress was of an +amphibious character. He wore an old hat edged with tarnished lace, and cocked +in martial style, on one side of his head; a rusty blue military coat with +brass buttons, and a wide pair of short petticoat trousers, or rather breeches, +for they were gathered up at the knees. He ordered every body about him with an +authoritative air; talked in a brattling voice, that sounded like the crackling +of thorns under a pot; damned the landlord and servants with perfect impunity, +and was waited upon with greater obsequiousness than had ever been shown to the +mighty Ramm himself. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert’s curiosity was awakened to know who and what was this stranger who had +thus usurped absolute sway in this ancient domain. He could get nothing, +however, but vague information. Peechy Prauw took him aside, into a remote +corner of the hall, and there in an under-voice, and with great caution, +imparted to him all that he knew on the subject. The inn had been aroused +several months before, on a dark stormy night, by repeated long shouts, that +seemed like the howlings of a wolf. They came from the water-side; and at +length were distinguished to be hailing the house in the seafaring manner. +“House-a-hoy!” The landlord turned out with his head-waiter, tapster, hostler, +and errand boy—that is to say with his old negro Cuff. On approaching the place +from whence the voice proceeded, they found this amphibious-looking personage +at the water’s edge, quite alone, and seated on a great oaken sea-chest. How he +came there, whether he had been set on shore from some boat, or had floated to +land on his chest, nobody could tell, for he did not seem disposed to answer +questions, and there was something in his looks and manners that put a stop to +all questioning. Suffice it to say, he took possession of a corner room of the +inn, to which his chest was removed with great difficulty. Here he had remained +ever since, keeping about the inn and its vicinity. Sometimes, it is true, he +disappeared for one, two, or three days at a time, going and returning without +giving any notice or account of his movements. He always appeared to have +plenty of money, though often of very strange, outlandish coinage; and he +regularly paid his bill every evening before turning in. +</p> + +<p> +He had fitted up his room to his own fancy, having slung a hammock from the +ceiling instead of a bed, and decorated the walls with rusty pistols and +cutlasses of foreign workmanship. A great part of his time was passed in this +room, seated by the window, which commanded a wide view of the Sound, a short +old-fashioned pipe in his mouth, a glass of rum toddy at his elbow, and a +pocket telescope in his hand, with which he reconnoitred every boat that moved +upon the water. Large square-rigged vessels seemed to excite but little +attention; but the moment he descried any thing with a shoulder-of-mutton sail, +or that a barge, or yawl, or jolly boat hove in sight, up went the telescope, +and he examined it with the most scrupulous attention. +</p> + +<p> +All this might have passed without much notice, for in those times the province +was so much the resort of adventurers of all characters and climes that any +oddity in dress or behavior attracted but little attention. But in a little +while this strange sea monster, thus strangely cast up on dry land, began to +encroach upon the long-established customs and customers of the place; to +interfere in a dictatorial manner in the affairs of the ninepin alley and the +bar-room, until in the end he usurped an absolute command over the little inn. +It was in vain to attempt to withstand his authority. He was not exactly +quarrelsome, but boisterous and peremptory, like one accustomed to tyrannize on +a quarter deck; and there was a dare-devil air about every thing he said and +did, that inspired a wariness in all bystanders. Even the half-pay officer, so +long the hero of the club, was soon silenced by him; and the quiet burghers +stared with wonder at seeing their inflammable man of war so readily and +quietly extinguished. +</p> + +<p> +And then the tales that he would tell were enough to make a peaceable man’s +hair stand on end. There was not a sea fight, or marauding or free-booting +adventure that had happened within the last twenty years but he seemed +perfectly versed in it. He delighted to talk of the exploits of the buccaneers +in the West-Indies and on the Spanish Main. How his eyes would glisten as he +described the waylaying of treasure ships, the desperate fights, yard arm and +yard arm—broadside and broad side—the boarding and capturing of large Spanish +galleons! with what chuckling relish would he describe the descent upon some +rich Spanish colony; the rifling of a church; the sacking of a convent! You +would have thought you heard some gormandizer dilating upon the roasting a +savory goose at Michaelmas as he described the roasting of some Spanish Don to +make him discover his treasure—a detail given with a minuteness that made every +rich old burgher present turn uncomfortably in his chair. All this would be +told with infinite glee, as if he considered it an excellent joke; and then he +would give such a tyrannical leer in the face of his next neighbor, that the +poor man would be fain to laugh out of sheer faint-heartedness. If any one, +however, pretended to contradict him in any of his stories he was on fire in an +instant. His very cocked hat assumed a momentary fierceness, and seemed to +resent the contradiction.—“How the devil should you know as well as I! I tell +you it was as I say!” and he would at the same time let slip a broadside of +thundering oaths and tremendous sea phrases, such as had never been heard +before within those peaceful walls. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, the worthy burghers began to surmise that he knew more of these stories +than mere hearsay. Day after day their conjectures concerning him grew more and +more wild and fearful. The strangeness of his manners, the mystery that +surrounded him, all made him something incomprehensible in their eyes. He was a +kind of monster of the deep to them—he was a merman—he was behemoth—he was +leviathan—in short, they knew not what he was. +</p> + +<p> +The domineering spirit of this boisterous sea urchin at length grew quite +intolerable. He was no respecter of persons; he contradicted the richest +burghers without hesitation; he took possession of the sacred elbow chair, +which time out of mind had been the seat of sovereignty of the illustrious Ramm +Rapelye. Nay, he even went so far in one of his rough jocular moods, as to slap +that mighty burgher on the back, drink his toddy and wink in his face, a thing +scarcely to be believed. From this time Ramm Rapelye appeared no more at the +inn; his example was followed by several of the most eminent customers, who +were too rich to tolerate being bullied out of their opinions, or being obliged +to laugh at another man’s jokes. The landlord was almost in despair, but he +knew not how to get rid of this sea monster and his sea-chest, which seemed to +have grown like fixtures, or excrescences on his establishment. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the account whispered cautiously in Wolfert’s ear, by the narrator, +Peechy Prauw, as he held him by the button in a corner of the hall, casting a +wary glance now and then towards the door of the bar-room, lest he should be +overheard by the terrible hero of his tale. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert took his seat in a remote part of the room in silence; impressed with +profound awe of this unknown, so versed in freebooting history. It was to him a +wonderful instance of the revolutions of mighty empires, to find the venerable +Ramm Rapelye thus ousted from the throne; a rugged tarpaulin dictating from his +elbow chair, hectoring the patriarchs, and filling this tranquil little realm +with brawl and bravado. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger was on this evening in a more than usually communicative mood, and +was narrating a number of astounding stories of plunderings and burnings upon +the high seas. He dwelt upon them with peculiar relish, heightening the +frightful particulars in proportion to their effect on his peaceful auditors. +He gave a long swaggering detail of the capture of a Spanish merchantman. She +was laying becalmed during a long summer’s day, just off from an island which +was one of the lurking places of the pirates. They had reconnoitred her with +their spy-glasses from the shore, and ascertained her character and force. At +night a picked crew of daring fellows set off for her in a whale boat. They +approached with muffled oars, as she lay rocking idly with the undulations of +the sea and her sails flapping against the masts. They were close under her +stern before the guard on deck was aware of their approach. The alarm was +given; the pirates threw hand grenades on deck and sprang up the main chains +sword in hand. +</p> + +<p> +The crew flew to arms, but in great confusion some were shot down, others took +refuge in the tops; others were driven overboard and drowned, while others +fought hand to hand from the main deck to the quarter deck, disputing gallantly +every inch of ground. There were three Spanish gentlemen on board with their +ladies, who made the most desperate resistance; they defended the +companion-way, cut down several of their assailants, and fought like very +devils, for they were maddened by the shrieks of the ladies from the cabin. One +of the Dons was old and soon despatched. The other two kept their ground +vigorously, even though the captain of the pirates was among their assailants. +Just then there was a shout of victory from the main deck. “The ship is ours!” +cried the pirates. +</p> + +<p> +One of the Dons immediately dropped his sword and surrendered; the other, who +was a hot-headed youngster, and just married, gave the captain a slash in the +face that laid all open. The captain just made out to articulate the words “no +quarter.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did they do with their prisoners?” said Peechy Prauw, eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Threw them all overboard!” said the merman. +</p> + +<p> +A dead pause followed this reply. Peechy Prauw shrunk quietly back like a man +who had unwarily stolen upon the lair of a sleeping lion. The honest burghers +cast fearful glances at the deep scar slashed across the visage of the +stranger, and moved their chairs a little farther off. The seaman, however, +smoked on without moving a muscle, as though he either did not perceive or did +not regard the unfavorable effect he had produced upon his hearers. +</p> + +<p> +The half-pay officer was the first to break the silence; for he was Continually +tempted to make ineffectual head against this tyrant of the seas, and to regain +his lost consequence in the eyes of his ancient companions. He now tried to +match the gunpowder tales of the stranger by others equally tremendous. Kidd, +as usual, was his hero, concerning whom he had picked up many of the floating +traditions of the province. The seaman had always evinced a settled pique +against the red-faced warrior. On this occasion he listened with peculiar +impatience. He sat with one arm a-kimbo, the other elbow on a table, the hand +holding on to the small pipe he was pettishly puffing; his legs crossed, +drumming with one foot on the ground and casting every now and then the side +glance of a basilisk at the prosing captain. At length the latter spoke of +Kidd’s having ascended the Hudson with some of his crew, to land his plunder in +secrecy. +</p> + +<p> +“Kidd up the Hudson!” burst forth the seaman, with a tremendous oath; “Kidd +never was up the Hudson!” +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you he was,” said the other. “Aye, and they say he buried a quantity of +treasure on the little flat that runs out into the river, called the Devil’s +Dans Kammer.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Devil’s Dans Kammer in your teeth!” cried the seaman. “I tell you Kidd +never was up the Hudson—what the plague do you know of Kidd and his haunts?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do I know?” echoed the half-pay officer; “why, I was in London at the +time of his trial, aye, and I had the pleasure of seeing him hanged at +Execution Dock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, sir, let me tell you that you saw as pretty a fellow hanged as ever trod +shoe leather. Aye!” putting his face nearer to that of the officer, “and there +was many a coward looked on, that might much better have swung in his stead.” +</p> + +<p> +The half-pay officer was silenced; but the indignation thus pent up in his +bosom glowed with intense vehemence in his single eye, which kindled like a +coal. +</p> + +<p> +Peechy Prauw, who never could remain silent, now took up the word, and in a +pacifying tone observed that the gentleman certainly was in the right. Kidd +never did bury money up the Hudson, nor indeed in any of those parts, though +many affirm the fact. It was Bradish and others of the buccaneers who had +buried money, some said in Turtle Bay, others on Long-Island, others in the +neighborhood of Hell Gate. Indeed, added he, I recollect an adventure of Mud +Sam, the negro fisherman, many years ago, which some think had something to do +with the buccaneers. As we are all friends here, and as it will go no farther, +I’ll tell it to you. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon a dark night many years ago, as Sam was returning from fishing in Hell +Gate—” +</p> + +<p> +Here the story was nipped in the bud by a sudden movement from the unknown, +who, laying his iron fist on the table, knuckles downward, with a quiet force +that indented the very boards, and looking grimly over his shoulder, with the +grin of an angry bear. “Heark’ee, neighbor,” said he, with significant nodding +of the head, “you’d better let the buccaneers and their money alone—they’re not +for old men and old women to meddle with. They fought hard for their money, +they gave body and soul for it, and wherever it lies buried, depend upon it he +must have a tug with the devil who gets it.” +</p> + +<p> +This sudden explosion was succeeded by a blank silence throughout the room. +Peechy Prauw shrunk within himself, and even the red-faced officer turned pale. +Wolfert, who, from a dark corner of the room, had listened with intense +eagerness to all this talk about buried treasure, looked with mingled awe and +reverence on this bold buccaneer, for such he really suspected him to be. There +was a chinking of gold and a sparkling of jewels in all his stories about the +Spanish Main that gave a value to every period, and Wolfert would have given +any thing for the rummaging of the ponderous sea-chest, which his imagination +crammed full of golden chalices and crucifixes and jolly round bags of +doubloons. +</p> + +<p> +The dead stillness that had fallen upon the company was at length interrupted +by the stranger, who pulled out a prodigious watch of curious and ancient +workmanship, and which in Wolferts’ eyes had a decidedly Spanish look. On +touching a spring it struck ten o’clock; upon which the sailor called for his +reckoning, and having paid it out of a handful of outlandish coin, he drank off +the remainder of his beverage, and without taking leave of any one, rolled out +of the room, muttering to himself as he stamped up-stairs to his chamber. +</p> + +<p> +It was some time before the company could recover from the silence into which +they had been thrown. The very footsteps of the stranger, which were heard now +and then as he traversed his chamber, inspired awe. +</p> + +<p> +Still the conversation in which they had been engaged was too interesting not +to be resumed. A heavy thunder-gust had gathered up unnoticed while they were +lost in talk, and the torrents of rain that fell forbade all thoughts of +setting off for home until the storm should subside. They drew nearer together, +therefore, and entreated the worthy Peechy Prauw to continue the tale which had +been so discourteously interrupted. He readily complied, whispering, however, +in a tone scarcely above his breath, and drowned occasionally by the rolling of +the thunder, and he would pause every now and then, and listen with evident +awe, as he heard the heavy footsteps of the stranger pacing overhead. +</p> + +<p> +The following is the purport of his story. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap26"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF SAM, THE BLACK FISHERMAN<br/> +COMMONLY DENOMINATED MUD SAM</h3> + +<p> +Every body knows Mud Sam, the old negro fisherman who has fished about the +Sound for the last twenty or thirty years. Well, it is now many years since +that Sam, who was then a young fellow, and worked on the farm of Killian Suydam +on Long Island, having finished his work early, was fishing, one still summer +evening, just about the neighborhood of Hell Gate. He was in a light skiff, and +being well acquainted with the currents and eddies, he had been able to shift +his station with the shifting of the tide, from the Hen and Chickens to the +Hog’s back, and from the Hog’s back to the Pot, and from the Pot to the +Frying-pan; but in the eagerness of his sport Sam did not see that the tide was +rapidly ebbing; until the roaring of the whirlpools and rapids warned him of +his danger, and he had some difficulty in shooting his skiff from among the +rocks and breakers, and getting to the point of Blackwell’s Island. Here he +cast anchor for some time, waiting the turn of the tide to enable him to return +homewards. +</p> + +<p> +As the night set in it grew blustering and gusty. Dark clouds came bundling up +in the west; and now and then a growl of thunder or a flash of lightning told +that a summer storm was at hand. Sam pulled over, therefore, under the lee of +Manhattan Island, and coasting along came to a snug nook, just under a steep +beetling rock, where he fastened his skiff to the root of a tree that shot out +from a cleft and spread its broad branches like a canopy over the water. The +gust came scouring along; the wind threw up the river in white surges; the rain +rattled among the leaves, the thunder bellowed worse than that which is now +bellowing, the lightning seemed to lick up the surges of the stream; but Sam, +snugly sheltered under rock and tree, lay crouched in his skiff, rocking upon +the billows, until he fell asleep. When he awoke all was quiet. The gust had +passed away, and only now and then a faint gleam of lightning in the east +showed which way it had gone. The night was dark and moonless; and from the +state of the tide Sam concluded it was near midnight. He was on the point of +making loose his skiff to return homewards, when he saw a light gleaming along +the water from a distance, which seemed rapidly approaching. As it drew near he +perceived that it came from a lanthorn in the bow of a boat which was gliding +along under shadow of the land. It pulled up in a small cove, close to where he +was. A man jumped on shore, and searching about with the lanthorn exclaimed, +“This is the place—here’s the Iron ring.” The boat was then made fast, and the +man returning on board, assisted his comrades in conveying something heavy on +shore. As the light gleamed among them, Sam saw that they were five stout, +desperate-looking fellows, in red woollen caps, with a leader in a +three-cornered hat, and that some of them were armed with dirks, or long +knives, and pistols. They talked low to one another, and occasionally in some +outlandish tongue which he could not understand. +</p> + +<p> +On landing they made their way among the bushes, taking turns to relieve each +other in lugging their burthen up the rocky bank. Sam’s curiosity was now fully +aroused, so leaving his skiff he clambered silently up the ridge that +overlooked their path. They had stopped to rest for a moment, and the leader +was looking about among the bushes with his lanthorn. “Have you brought the +spades?” said one. “They are here,” replied another, who had them on his +shoulder. “We must dig deep, where there will be no risk of discovery,” said a +third. +</p> + +<p> +A cold chill ran through Sam’s veins. He fancied he saw before him a gang of +murderers, about to bury their victim. His knees smote together. In his +agitation he shook the branch of a tree with which he was supporting himself as +he looked over the edge of the cliff. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” cried one of the gang. “Some one stirs among the bushes!” +</p> + +<p> +The lanthorn was held up in the direction of the noise. One of the red-caps +cocked a pistol, and pointed it towards the very lace where Sam was standing. +He stood motionless—breathless; expecting the next moment to be his last. +Fortunately, his dingy complexion was in his favor, and made no glare among the +leaves. +</p> + +<p> +“’Tis no one,” said the man with the lanthorn. “What a plague! you would not +fire off your pistol and alarm the country.” +</p> + +<p> +The pistol was uncocked; the burthen was resumed, and the party slowly toiled +up the bank. Sam watched them as they went; the light sending back fitful +gleams through the dripping bushes, and it was not till they were fairly out of +sight that he ventured to draw breath freely. He now thought of getting back to +his boat, and making his escape out of the reach of such dangerous neighbors; +but curiosity was all-powerful with poor Sam. He hesitated and lingered and +listened. By and bye he heard the strokes of spades. +</p> + +<p> +“They are digging the grave!” said he to himself; the cold sweat started upon +his forehead. Every stroke of a spade, as it sounded through the silent groves, +went to his heart; it was evident there was as little noise made as possible; +every thing had an air of mystery and secrecy. Sam had a great relish for the +horrible—a tale of murder was a treat for him; and he was a constant attendant +at executions. He could not, therefore, resist an impulse, in spite of every +danger, to steal nearer, and overlook the villains at their work. He crawled +along cautiously, therefore, inch by inch; stepping with the utmost care among +the dry leaves, lest their rustling should betray him. He came at length to +where a steep rock intervened between him and the gang; he saw the light of +their lanthorn shining up against the branches of the trees on the other side. +Sam slowly and silently clambered up the surface of the rock, and raising his +head above its naked edge, beheld the villains immediately below him, and so +near that though he dreaded discovery, he dared not withdraw lest the least +movement should be heard. In this way he remained, with his round black face +peering over the edge of the rock, like the sun just emerging above the edge of +the horizon, or the round-cheeked moon on the dial of a clock. +</p> + +<p> +The red-caps had nearly finished their work; the grave was filled up, and they +were carefully replacing the turf. This done, they scattered dry leaves over +the place. “And now,” said the leader, “I defy the devil himself to find it +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“The murderers!” exclaimed Sam involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +The whole gang started, and looking up, beheld the round black head of Sam just +above them. His white eyes strained half out of their orbits; his white teeth +chattering, and his whole visage shining with cold perspiration. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re discovered!” cried one. +</p> + +<p> +“Down with him!” cried another. +</p> + +<p> +Sam heard the cocking of a pistol, but did not pause for the report. He +scrambled over rock and stone, through bush and briar; rolled down banks like a +hedgehog; scrambled up others like a catamount. In every direction he heard +some one or other of the gang hemming him in. At length he reached the rocky +ridge along the river; one of the red-caps was hard behind him. A steep rock +like a wall rose directly in his way; it seemed to cut off all retreat, when he +espied the strong cord-like branch of a grape-vine reaching half way down it. +He sprang at it with the force of a desperate man, seized it with both hands, +and being young and agile, succeeded in swinging himself to the summit of the +cliff. Here he stood in full relief against the sky, when the red-cap cocked +his pistol and fired. The ball whistled by Sam’s head. With the lucky thought +of a man in an emergency, he uttered a yell, fell to the ground, and detached +at the same time a fragment of the rock, which tumbled with a loud splash into +the river. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve done his business,” said the red-cap, to one or two of his comrades as +they arrived panting. “He’ll tell no tales, except to the fishes in the river.” +</p> + +<p> +His pursuers now turned off to meet their companions. Sam sliding silently down +the surface of the rock, let himself quietly into his skiff, cast loose the +fastening, and abandoned himself to the rapid current, which in that place runs +like a mill-stream, and soon swept him off from the neighborhood. It was not, +however, until he had drifted a great distance that he ventured to ply his +oars; when he made his skiff dart like an arrow through the strait of Hell +Gate, never heeding the danger of Pot, Frying-pan, or Hog’s-back itself; nor +did he feel himself thoroughly secure until safely nestled in bed in the +cockloft of the ancient farm-house of the Suydams. +</p> + +<p> +Here the worthy Peechy paused to take breath and to take a sip of the gossip +tankard that stood at his elbow. His auditors remained with open mouths and +outstretched necks, gaping like a nest of swallows for an additional mouthful. +</p> + +<p> +“And is that all?” exclaimed the half-pay officer. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all that belongs to the story,” said Peechy Prauw. +</p> + +<p> +“And did Sam never find out what was buried by the redcaps?” said Wolfert, +eagerly; whose mind was haunted by nothing but ingots and doubloons. +</p> + +<p> +“Not that I know of; he had no time to spare from his work; and to tell the +truth, he did not like to run the risk of another race among the rocks. +Besides, how should he recollect the spot where the grave had been digged? +every thing would look different by daylight. And then, where was the use of +looking for a dead body, when there was no chance of hanging the murderers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, but are you sure it was a dead body they buried?” said Wolfert. +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure,” cried Peechy Prauw, exultingly. “Does it not haunt in the +neighborhood to this very day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Haunts!” exclaimed several of the party, opening their eyes still wider and +edging their chairs still closer. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, haunts,” repeated Peechy; “has none of you heard of father red-cap that +haunts the old burnt farm-house in the woods, on the border of the Sound, near +Hell Gate?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, to be sure, I’ve heard tell of something of the kind, but then I took it +for some old wives’ fable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Old wives’ fable or not,” said Peechy Prauw, “that farmhouse stands hard by +the very spot. It’s been unoccupied time out of mind, and stands in a wild, +lonely part of the coast; but those who fish in the neighborhood have often +heard strange noises there; and lights have been seen about the wood at night; +and an old fellow in a red cap has been seen at the windows more than once, +which people take to be the ghost of the body that was buried there. Once upon +a time three soldiers took shelter in the building for the night, and rummaged +it from top to bottom, when they found old father red-cap astride of a +cider-barrel in the cellar, with a jug in one hand and a goblet in the other. +He offered them a drink out of his goblet, but just as one of the soldiers was +putting it to his mouth-Whew! a flash of fire blazed through the cellar, +blinded every mother’s son of them for several minutes, and when they recovered +their eye-sight, jug, goblet, and red-cap had vanished, and nothing but the +empty cider-barrel remained.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the half-pay officer, who was growing very muzzy and sleepy, and nodding +over his liquor, with half-extinguished eye, suddenly gleamed up like an +expiring rushlight. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all humbug!” said he, as Peechy finished his last story. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t vouch for the truth of it myself,” said Peechy Prauw, “though +all the world knows that there’s something strange about the house and grounds; +but as to the story of Mud Sam, I believe it just as well as if it had happened +to myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The deep interest taken in this conversation by the company, had made them +unconscious of the uproar that prevailed abroad, among the elements, when +suddenly they were all electrified by a tremendous clap of thunder. A lumbering +crash followed instantaneously that made the building shake to its foundation. +All started from their seats, imagining it the shock of an earthquake, or that +old father red-cap was coming among them in all his terrors. They listened for +a moment, but only heard the rain pelting against the windows, and the wind +howling among the trees. The explosion was soon explained by the apparition of +an old negro’s bald head thrust in at the door, his white goggle eyes +contrasting with his jetty poll, which was wet with rain and shone like a +bottle. In a jargon but half intelligible he announced that the kitchen chimney +had been struck with lightning. +</p> + +<p> +A sullen pause of the storm, which now rose and sunk in gusts, produced a +momentary stillness. In this interval the report of a musket was heard, and a +long shout, almost like a yell, resounded from the shore. Every one crowded to +the window; another musket shot was heard, and another long shout, that mingled +wildly with a rising blast of wind. It seemed as if the cry came up from the +bosom of the waters; for though incessant flashes of lightning spread a light +about the shore, no one was to be seen. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the window of the room overhead was opened, and a loud halloo uttered +by the mysterious stranger. Several hailings passed from one party to the +other, but in a language which none of the company in the bar-room could +understand; and presently they heard the window closed, and a great noise +overhead as if all the furniture were pulled and hauled about the room. The +negro servant was summoned, and shortly after was seen assisting the veteran to +lug the ponderous sea-chest down stairs. +</p> + +<p> +The landlord was in amazement. “What, you are not going on the water in such a +storm?” +</p> + +<p> +“Storm!” said the other, scornfully, “do you call such a sputter of weather a +storm?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll get drenched to the skin—You’ll catch your death!” said Peechy Prauw, +affectionately. +</p> + +<p> +“Thunder and lightning!” exclaimed the merman, “don’t preach about weather to a +man that has cruised in whirlwinds and tornadoes.” +</p> + +<p> +The obsequious Peechy was again struck dumb. The voice from the water was again +heard in a tone of impatience; the bystanders stared with redoubled awe at this +man of storms, which seemed to have come up out of the deep and to be called +back to it again. As, with the assistance of the negro, he slowly bore his +ponderous sea-chest towards the shore, they eyed it with a superstitious +feeling; half doubting whether he were not really about to embark upon it, and +launch forth upon the wild waves. They followed him at a distance with a +lanthorn. +</p> + +<p> +“Douse the light!” roared the hoarse voice from the water. “No one wants light +here!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thunder and lightning!” exclaimed the veteran; “back to the house with you!” +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert and his companions shrunk back is dismay. Still their curiosity would +not allow them entirely to withdraw. A long sheet of lightning now flickered +across the waves, and discovered a boat, filled with men, just under a rocky +point, rising and sinking with the heavy surges, and swashing the water at +every heave. It was with difficulty held to the rocks by a boat hook, for the +current rushed furiously round the point. The veteran hoisted one end of the +lumbering sea-chest on the gunwale of the boat; he seized the handle at the +other end to lift it in, when the motion propelled the boat from the shore; the +chest slipped off from the gunwale, sunk into the waves, and pulled the veteran +headlong after it. A loud shriek was uttered by all on shore, and a volley of +execrations by those on board; but boat and man were hurried away by the +rushing swiftness of the tide. A pitchy darkness succeeded; Wolfert Webber +indeed fancied that He distinguished a cry for help, and that he beheld the +drowning man beckoning for assistance; but when the lightning again gleamed +along the water all was drear and void. Neither man nor boat was to be seen; +nothing but the dashing and weltering of the waves as they hurried past. +</p> + +<p> +The company returned to the tavern, for they could not leave it before the +storm should subside. They resumed their seats and gazed on each other with +dismay. The whole transaction had not occupied five minutes and not a dozen +words had been spoken. When they looked at the oaken chair they could scarcely +realize the fact that the strange being who had so lately tenanted it, full of +life and Herculean vigor, should already be a corpse. There was the very glass +he had just drunk from; there lay the ashes from the pipe which he had smoked +as it were with his last breath. As the worthy burghers pondered on these +things, they felt a terrible conviction of the uncertainty of human existence, +and each felt as if the ground on which he stood was rendered less stable by +this awful example. +</p> + +<p> +As, however, the most of the company were possessed of that valuable philosophy +which enables a man to bear up with fortitude against the misfortunes of his +neighbors, they soon managed to console themselves for the tragic end of the +veteran. The landlord was happy that the poor dear man had paid his reckoning +before he went. +</p> + +<p> +“He came in a storm, and he went in a storm; he came in the night, and he went +in the night; he came nobody knows from whence, and he has gone nobody knows +where. For aught I know he has gone to sea once more on his chest and may land +to bother some people on the other side of the world! Though it’s a thousand +pities,” added the landlord, “if he has gone to Davy Jones that he had not left +his sea-chest behind him.” +</p> + +<p> +“The sea-chest! St. Nicholas preserve us!” said Peechy Prauw. “I’d not have had +that sea-chest in the house for any money; I’ll warrant he’d come racketing +after it at nights, and making a haunted house of the inn. And as to his going +to sea on his chest, I recollect what happened to Skipper Onderdonk’s ship on +his voyage from Amsterdam. +</p> + +<p> +“The boatswain died during a storm, so they wrapped him up in a sheet, and put +him in his own sea-chest, and threw him overboard; but they neglected in their +hurry-skurry to say prayers over him—and the storm raged and roared louder than +ever, and they saw the dead man seated in his chest, with his shroud for a +sail, coming hard after the ship; and the sea breaking before him in great +sprays like fire, and there they kept scudding day after day and night after +night, expecting every moment to go to wreck; and every night they saw the dead +boatswain in his sea-chest trying to get up with them, and they heard his +whistle above the blasts of wind, and he seemed to send great seas mountain +high after them, that would have swamped the ship if they had not put up the +dead lights. And so it went on till they lost sight of him in the fogs of +Newfoundland, and supposed he had veered ship and stood for Dead Man’s Isle. So +much for burying a man at sea without saying prayers over him.” +</p> + +<p> +The thunder-gust which had hitherto detained the company was now at an end. The +cuckoo clock in the hall struck midnight; every one pressed to depart, for +seldom was such a late hour trespassed on by these quiet burghers. As they +sallied forth they found the heavens once more serene. The storm which had +lately obscured them had rolled aways and lay piled up in fleecy masses on the +horizon, lighted up by the bright crescent of the moon, which looked like a +silver lamp hung up in a palace of clouds. +</p> + +<p> +The dismal occurrence of the night, and the dismal narrations they had made, +had left a superstitious feeling in every mind. They cast a fearful glance at +the spot where the buccaneer had disappeared, almost expecting to see him +sailing on his chest in the cool moonshine. The trembling rays glittered along +the waters, but all was placid; and the current dimpled over the spot where he +had gone down. The party huddled together in a little crowd as they repaired +homewards; particularly when they passed a lonely field where a man had been +murdered; and he who had farthest to go and had to complete his journey alone, +though a veteran sexton, and accustomed, one would think to ghosts and goblins, +yet went a long way round, rather than pass by his own church-yard. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert Webber had now carried home a fresh stock of stories and notions to +ruminate upon. His mind was all of a whirl with these freebooting tales; and +then these accounts of pots of money and Spanish treasures, buried here and +there and every where about the rocks and bays of this wild shore, made him +almost dizzy. +</p> + +<p> +“Blessed St. Nicholas!” ejaculated he, half aloud, “is it not possible to come +upon one of these golden hoards, and so make one’s self rich in a twinkling. +How hard that I must go on, delving and delving, day in and day out, merely to +make a morsel of bread, when one lucky stroke of a spade might enable me to +ride in my carriage for the rest of my life!” +</p> + +<p> +As he turned over in his thoughts all that he had been told of the singular +adventure of the black fisherman, his imagination gave a totally different +complexion to the tale. He saw in the gang of redcaps nothing but a crew of +pirates burying their spoils, and his cupidity was once more awakened by the +possibility of at length getting on the traces of some of this lurking wealth. +Indeed, his infected fancy tinged every thing with gold. He felt like the +greedy inhabitant of Bagdad, when his eye had been greased with the magic +ointment of the dervise, that gave him to see all the treasures of the earth. +Caskets of buried jewels, chests of ingots, bags of outlandish coins, seemed to +court him from their concealments, and supplicate him to relieve them from +their untimely graves. +</p> + +<p> +On making private inquiries about the grounds said to be haunted by father +red-cap, he was more and more confirmed in his surmise. He learned that the +place had several times been visited by experienced money-diggers, who had +heard Mud Sam’s story, though none of them had met with success. On the +contrary, they had always been dogged with ill luck of some kind or other, in +consequence, as Wolfert concluded, of their not going to work at the proper +time, and with the proper ceremonials. The last attempt had been made by Cobus +Quackenbos, who dug for a whole night and met with incredible difficulty, for +as fast as he threw one shovel full of earth out of the hole, two were thrown +in by invisible hands. He succeeded so far, however, as to uncover an iron +chest, when there was a terrible roaring, and ramping, and raging of uncouth +figures about the hole, and at length a shower of blows, dealt by invisible +cudgels, that fairly belabored him off the forbidden ground. This Cobus +Quackenbos had declared on his death-bed, so that there could not be any doubt +of it. He was a man that had devoted many years of his life to money-digging, +and it was thought would have ultimately succeeded, had he not died suddenly of +a brain fever in the alms-house. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert Webber was now in a worry of trepidation and impatience; fearful lest +some rival adventurer should get a scent of the buried gold. He determined +privately to seek out the negro fisherman and get him to serve as guide to the +place where he had witnessed the mysterious scene of interment. Sam was easily +found; for he was one of those old habitual beings that live about a +neighborhood until they wear themselves a place in the public mind, and become, +in a manner, public characters. There was not an unlucky urchin about the town +that did not know Mud Sam the fisherman, and think that he had a right to play +his tricks upon the old negro. Sam was an amphibious kind of animal, something +more of a fish than a man; he had led the life of an otter for more than half a +century, about the shores of the bay, and the fishing grounds of the Sound. He +passed the greater part of his time on and in the water, particularly about +Hell Gate; and might have been taken, in bad weather, for one of the hobgoblins +that used to haunt that strait. There would he be seen, at all times, and in +all weathers; sometimes in his skiff, anchored among the eddies, or prowling, +like a shark about some wreck, where the fish are supposed to be most abundant. +Sometimes seated on a rock from hour to hour, looming through mist and drizzle, +like a solitary heron watching for its prey. He was well acquainted with every +hole and corner of the Sound; from the Wallabout to Hell Gate, and from Hell +Gate even unto the Devil’s Stepping Stones; and it was even affirmed that he +knew all the fish in the river by their Christian names. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert found him at his cabin, which was not much larger than a tolerable +dog-house. It was rudely constructed of fragments of wrecks and drift-wood, and +built on the rocky shore, at the foot of the old fort, just about what at +present forms the point of the Battery. A “most ancient and fish-like smell” +pervaded the place. Oars, paddles, and fishing-rods were leaning against the +wall of the fort; a net was spread on the sands to dry; a skiff was drawn up on +the beach, and at the door of his cabin lay Mud Sam himself, indulging in a +true negro’s luxury—sleeping in the sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +Many years had passed away since the time of Sam’s youthful adventure, and the +snows of many a winter had grizzled the knotty wool upon his head. He perfectly +recollected the circumstances, however, for he had often been called upon to +relate them, though in his version of the story he differed in many points from +Peechy Prauw; as is not unfrequently the case with authentic historians. As to +the subsequent researches of money-diggers, Sam knew nothing about them; they +were matters quite out of his line; neither did the cautious Wolfert care to +disturb his thoughts on that point. His only wish was to secure the old +fisherman as a pilot to the spot, and this was readily effected. The long time +that had intervened since his nocturnal adventure had effaced all Sam’s awe of +the place, and the promise of a trifling reward roused him at once from his +sleep and his sunshine. +</p> + +<p> +The tide was adverse to making the expedition by water, and Wolfert was too +impatient to get to the land of promise, to wait for its turning; they set off, +therefore, by land. A walk of four or five miles brought them to the edge of a +wood, which at that time covered the greater part of the eastern side of the +island. It was just beyond the pleasant region of Bloomen-dael. Here they +struck into a long lane, straggling among trees and bushes, very much overgrown +with weeds and mullein stalks as if but seldom used, and so completely +overshadowed as to enjoy but a kind of twilight. Wild vines entangled the trees +and flaunted in their faces; brambles and briars caught their clothes as they +passed; the garter-snake glided across their path; the spotted toad hopped and +waddled before them, and the restless cat-bird mewed at them from every +thicket. Had Wolfert Webber been deeply read in romantic legend he might have +fancied himself entering upon forbidden, enchanted ground; or that these were +some of the guardians set to keep a watch upon buried treasure. As it was, the +loneliness of the place, and the wild stories connected with it, had their +effect upon his mind. +</p> + +<p> +On reaching the lower end of the lane they found themselves near the shore of +the Sound, in a kind of amphitheatre, surrounded by forest tree. The area had +once been a grass-plot, but was now shagged with briars and rank weeds. At one +end, and just on the river bank, was a ruined building, little better than a +heap of rubbish, with a stack of chimneys rising like a solitary tower out of +the centre. The current of the Sound rushed along just below it, with +wildly-grown trees drooping their branches into its waves. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert had not a doubt that this was the haunted house of father red-cap, and +called to mind the story of Peechy Prauw. The evening was approaching, and the +light falling dubiously among these places, gave a melancholy tone to the +scene, well calculated to foster any lurking feeling of awe or superstition. +The night-hawk, wheeling about in the highest regions of the air, emitted his +peevish, boding cry. The woodpecker gave a lonely tap now and then on some +hollow tree, and the firebird,<a href="#fn-3" name="fnref-3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> +as he streamed by them with his deep-red plumage, seemed like some genius +flitting about this region of mystery. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-3"></a> <a href="#fnref-3">[3]</a> +Orchard Oreole. +</p> + +<p> +They now came to an enclosure that had once been a garden. It extended along +the foot of a rocky ridge, but was little better than a wilderness of weeds, +with here and there a matted rose-bush, or a peach or plum tree grown wild and +ragged, and covered with moss. At the lower end of the garden they passed a +kind of vault in the side of the bank, facing the water. It had the look of a +root-house. The door, though decayed, was still strong, and appeared to have +been recently patched up. Wolfert pushed it open. It gave a harsh grating upon +its hinges, and striking against something like a box, a rattling sound ensued, +and a skull rolled on the floor. Wolfert drew back shuddering, but was +reassured on being informed by Sam that this was a family vault belonging to +one of the old Dutch families that owned this estate; an assertion which was +corroborated by the sight of coffins of various sizes piled within. Sam had +been familiar with all these scenes when a boy, and now knew that he could not +be far from the place of which they were in quest. +</p> + +<p> +They now made their way to the water’s edge, scrambling along ledges of rocks, +and having often to hold by shrubs and grape-vines to avoid slipping into the +deep and hurried stream. At length they came to a small cove, or rather indent +of the shore. It was protected by steep rocks and overshadowed by a thick copse +of oaks and chestnuts, so as to be sheltered and almost concealed. The beach +sloped gradually within the cove, but the current swept deep and black and +rapid along its jutting points. Sam paused; raised his remnant of a hat, and +scratched his grizzled poll for a moment, as he regarded this nook: then +suddenly clapping his hands, he stepped exultingly forward, and pointing to a +large iron ring, stapled firmly in the rock, just where a broad shelve of stone +furnished a commodious landing-place. It was the very spot where the red-caps +had landed. Years had changed the more perishable features of the scene; but +rock and iron yield slowly to the influence of time. On looking more narrowly, +Wolfert remarked three crosses cut in the rock just above the ring, which had +no doubt some mysterious signification. Old Sam now readily recognized the +overhanging rock under which his skiff had been sheltered during the +thunder-gust. To follow up the course which the midnight gang had taken, +however, was a harder task. His mind had been so much taken up on that eventful +occasion by the persons of the drama, as to pay but little attention to the +scenes; and places looked different by night and day. After wandering about for +some time, however, they came to an opening among the trees which Sam thought +resembled the place. There was a ledge of rock of moderate height like a wall +on one side, which Sam thought might be the very ridge from which he overlooked +the diggers. Wolfert examined it narrowly, and at length described three +crosses similar to those above the iron ring, cut deeply into the face of the +rock, but nearly obliterated by the moss that had grown on them. His heart +leaped with joy, for he doubted not but they were the private marks of the +buccaneers, to denote the places where their treasure lay buried. All now that +remained was to ascertain the precise spot; for otherwise he might dig at +random without coming upon the spoil, and he has already had enough of such +profitless labor. Here, however, Sam was perfectly at a loss, and, indeed, +perplexed him by a variety of opinions; for his recollections were all +confused. Sometimes he declared it must have been at the foot of a mulberry +tree hard by; then it was just beside a great white stone; then it must have +been under a small green knoll, a short distance from the ledge of rock: until +at length Wolfert became as bewildered as himself. +</p> + +<p> +The shadows of evening were now spreading themselves over the woods, and rock +and tree began to mingle together. It was evidently too late to attempt +anything farther at present; and, indeed, Wolfert had come unprepared with +implements to prosecute his researches. Satisfied, therefore, with having +ascertained the place, he took note of all its landmarks, that he might +recognize it again, and set out on his return homeward, resolved to prosecute +this golden enterprise without delay. +</p> + +<p> +The leading anxiety which had hitherto absorbed every feeling being now in some +measure appeased, fancy began to wander, and to conjure up a thousand shapes +and chimeras as he returned through this haunted region. Pirates hanging in +chains seemed to swing on every tree, and he almost expected to see some +Spanish Don, with his throat cut from ear to ear, rising slowly out of the +ground, and shaking the ghost of a money-bag. +</p> + +<p> +Their way back lay through the desolate garden, and Wolfert’s nerves had +arrived at so sensitive a state that the flitting of a bird, the rustling of a +leaf, or the falling of a nut was enough to startle him. As they entered the +confines of the garden, they caught sight of a figure at a distance advancing +slowly up one of the walks and bending under the weight of a burthen. They +paused and regarded him attentively. He wore what appeared to be a woollen cap, +and still more alarming, of a most sanguinary red. The figure moved slowly on, +ascended the bank, and stopped at the very door of the sepulchral vault. Just +before entering he looked around. What was the horror of Wolfert when he +recognized the grizzly visage of the drowned buccaneer. He uttered an +ejaculation of horror. The figure slowly raised his iron fist and shook it with +a terrible menace. Wolfert did not pause to see more, but hurried off as fast +as his legs could carry him, nor was Sam slow in following at his heels, having +all his ancient terrors revived. Away, then, did they scramble, through bush +and brake, horribly frightened at every bramble that tagged at their skirts, +nor did they pause to breathe, until they had blundered their way through this +perilous wood and had fairly reached the high-road to the city. +</p> + +<p> +Several days elapsed before Wolfert could summon courage enough to prosecute +the enterprise, so much had he been dismayed by the apparition, whether living +dead, of the grizzly buccaneer. In the meantime, what a conflict of mind did he +suffer! He neglected all his concerns, was moody and restless all day, lost his +appetite; wandered in his thoughts and words, and committed a thousand +blunders. His rest was broken; and when he fell asleep, the nightmare, in shape +of a huge money-bag, sat squatted upon his breast. He babbled about +incalculable sums; fancied himself engaged in money digging; threw the +bed-clothes right and left, in the idea that he was shovelling among the dirt, +groped under the bed in quest of the treasure, and lugged forth, as he +supposed, an inestimable pot of gold. +</p> + +<p> +Dame Webber and her daughter were in despair at what they conceived a returning +touch of insanity. There are two family oracles, one or other of which Dutch +housewives consult in all cases of great doubt and perplexity: the dominie and +the doctor. In the present instance they repaired to the doctor. There was at +that time a little, dark, mouldy man of medicine famous among the old wives of +the Manhattoes for his skill not only in the healing art, but in all matters of +strange and mysterious nature. His name was Dr. Knipperhausen, but he was more +commonly known by the appellation of the High German doctor.<a href="#fn-4" +name="fnref-4"><sup>[4]</sup></a> To him did the poor women repair for counsel +and assistance touching the mental vagaries of Wolfert Webber. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-4"></a> <a href="#fnref-4">[4]</a> +The same, no doubt, of whom mention is made in the history of Dolph Heyliger. +</p> + +<p> +They found the doctor seated in his little study, clad in his dark camblet robe +of knowledge, with his black velvet cap, after the manner of Boorhaave, Van +Helmont, and other medical sages: a pair of green spectacles set in black horn +upon his clubbed nose, and poring over a German folio that seemed to reflect +back the darkness of his physiognomy. The doctor listened to their statement of +the symptoms of Wolfert’s malady with profound attention; but when they came to +mention his raving about buried money, the little man pricked up his ears. +Alas, poor women! they little knew the aid they had called in. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Knipperhausen had been half his life engaged in seeking the short cuts to +fortune, in quest of which so many a long lifetime is wasted. He had passed +some years of his youth in the Harz mountains of Germany, and had derived much +valuable instruction from the miners, touching the mode of seeking treasure +buried in the earth. He had prosecuted his studies also under a travelling sage +who united all the mysteries of medicine with magic and legerdemain. His mind, +therefore, had become stored with all kinds of mystic lore: he had dabbled a +little in astrology, alchemy, and divination; knew how to detect stolen money, +and to tell where springs of water lay hidden; in a word, by the dark nature of +his knowledge he had acquired the name of the High German doctor, which is +pretty nearly equivalent to that of necromancer. The doctor had often heard +rumors of treasure being buried in various parts of the island, and’ had long +been anxious to get on the traces of it. No sooner were Wolfert’s waking and +sleeping vagaries confided to him, than he beheld in them the confirmed +symptoms of a case of money-digging, and lost no time in probing it to the +bottom. Wolfert had long been sorely depressed in mind by the golden secret, +and as a family physician is a kind of father confessor, he was glad of the +opportunity of unburthening himself. So far from curing, the doctor caught the +malady from his patient. The circumstances unfolded to him awakened all his +cupidity; he had not a doubt of money being buried somewhere in the +neighborhood of the mysterious crosses, and offered to join Wolfert in the +search. He informed him that much secrecy and caution must be observed in +enterprises of the kind; that money is only to be digged for at night; with +certain forms and ceremonies; the burning of drugs; the repeating of mystic +words, and above all, that the seekers must be provided with a divining rod, +which had the wonderful property of pointing to the very spot on the surface of +the earth under which treasure lay hidden. As the doctor had given much of his +mind to these matters, he charged himself with all the necessary preparations, +and, as the quarter of the moon was propitious, he undertook to have the +divining rod ready by a certain night.<a href="#fn-5" +name="fnref-5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-5"></a> <a href="#fnref-5">[5]</a> +The following note was found appended to this paper in the handwriting of Mr. +Knickerbocker. “There has been much written against the divining rod by those +light minds who are ever ready to scoff at the mysteries of nature, but I fully +join with Dr. Knipperhausen in giving it my faith. I shall not insist upon its +efficacy in discovering the concealment of stolen goods, the boundary-stones of +fields, the traces of robbers and murderers, or even the existence of +subterraneous springs and streams of water; albeit, I think these properties +not easily to be discredited; but of its potency in discovering vein of +precious metal, and hidden sums of money and jewels, I have not the least +doubt. Some said that the rod turned only in the hands of persons who had been +born in particular months of the year; hence astrologers had recourse to +planetary influence when they would procure a talisman. Others declared that +the properties of the rod were either an effect of chance, or the fraud of the +holder, or the work of the devil. Thus sayeth the reverend Father Gaspard +Schott in his Treatise on Magic. ‘Propter haec et similia argumenta audacter +ego pronuncio vim conversivam virgulae befurcatae nequaquam naturalem esse, sed +vel casa vel fraude virgulam tractantis vel ope diaboli,’ etc.<br/> + “Georgius Agricula also was of opinion that it was a mere delusion of the +devil to inveigle the avaricious and unwary into his clutches, and in his +treatise ‘de re Metallica,’ lays particular stress on the mysterious words +pronounced by those persons who employed the divining rod during his time. But +I make not a doubt that the divining rod is one of those secrets of natural +magic, the mystery of which is to be explained by the sympathies existing +between physical things operated upon by the planets, and rendered efficacious +by the strong faith of the individual. Let the divining rod be properly +gathered at the proper time of the moon, cut into the proper form, used with +the necessary ceremonies, and with a perfect faith in its efficacy, and I can +confidently recommend it to my fellow-citizens as an infallible means of +discovering the various places on the island of the Manhattoes where treasure +hath been buried in the olden time. D.K.”] +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert’s heart leaped with joy at having met with so learned and able a +coadjutor. Every thing went on secretly, but swimmingly. The doctor had many +consultations with his patient, and the good women of the household lauded the +comforting effect of his visits. In the meantime, the wonderful divining rod, +that great key to nature’s secrets, was duly prepared. The doctor had thumbed +over all his books of knowledge for the occasion; and Mud Sam was engaged to +take them in his skiff to the scene of enterprise; to work with spade and +pick-axe in unearthing the treasure; and to freight his bark with the weighty +spoils they were certain of finding. +</p> + +<p> +At length the appointed night arrived for this perilous undertaking. Before +Wolfert left his home he counselled his wife and daughter to go to bed, and +feel no alarm if he should not return during the night. Like reasonable women, +on being told not to feel alarm, they fell immediately into a panic. They saw +at once by his manner that something unusual was in agitation; all their fears +about the unsettled state of his mind were roused with tenfold force: they hung +about him entreating him not to expose himself to the night air, but all in +vain. When Wolfert was once mounted on his hobby, it was no easy matter to get +him out of the saddle. It was a clear starlight night, when he issued out of +the portal of the Webber palace. He wore a large napped hat tied under the chin +with a handkerchief of his daughter’s, to secure him from the night damp, while +Dame Webber threw her long red cloak about his shoulders, and fastened it round +his neck. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor had been no less carefully armed and accoutred by his housekeeper, +the vigilant Frau Ilsy, and sallied forth in his camblet robe by way of +surtout; his black velvet cap under his cocked hat, a thick clasped book under +his arm, a basket of drugs and dried herbs in one hand, and in the other the +miraculous rod of divination. +</p> + +<p> +The great church clock struck ten as Wolfert and the doctor passed by the +church-yard, and the watchman bawled in hoarse voice a long and doleful “All’s +well!” A deep sleep had already fallen upon this primitive little burgh; +nothing disturbed this awful silence, excepting now and then the bark of some +profligate night-walking dog, or the serenade of some romantic cat. It is true, +Wolfert fancied more than once that he heard the sound of a stealthy footfall +at a distance behind them; but it might have been merely the echo of their own +steps echoing along the quiet streets. He thought also at one time that he saw +a tall figure skulking after them—stopping when they stopped, and moving on as +they proceeded; but the dim and uncertain lamp light threw such vague gleams +and shadows, that this might all have been mere fancy. +</p> + +<p> +They found the negro fisherman waiting for them, smoking his pipe in the stern +of his skiff, which was moored just in front of his little cabin. A pick-axe +and spade were lying in the bottom of the boat, with a dark lanthorn, and a +stone jug of good Dutch courage, in which honest Sam no doubt, put even more +faith than Dr. Knipperhausen in his drugs. +</p> + +<p> +Thus then did these three worthies embark in their cockleshell of a skiff upon +this nocturnal expedition, with a wisdom and valor equalled only by the three +wise men of Gotham, who went to sea in a bowl. The tide was rising and running +rapidly up the Sound. The current bore them along, almost without the aid of an +oar. The profile of the town lay all in shadow. Here and there a light feebly +glimmered from some sick chamber, or from the cabin window of some vessel at +anchor in the stream. Not a cloud obscured the deep starry firmament, the +lights of which wavered on the surface of the placid river; and a shooting +meteor, streaking its pale course in the very direction they were taking, was +interpreted by the doctor into a most propitious omen. +</p> + +<p> +In a little while they glided by the point of Corlears Hook with the rural inn +which had been the scene of such night adventures. The family had retired to +rest, and the house was dark and still. Wolfert felt a chill pass over him as +they passed the point where the buccaneer had disappeared. He pointed it out to +Dr. Knipperhausen. While regarding it, they thought they saw a boat actually +lurking at the very place; but the shore cast such a shadow over the border of +the water that they could discern nothing distinctly. They had not proceeded +far when they heard the low sounds of distant oars, as if cautiously pulled. +Sam plied his oars with redoubled vigor, and knowing all the eddies and +currents of the stream, soon left their followers, if such they were, far +astern. In a little while they stretched across Turtle bay and Kip’s bay, then +shrouded themselves in the deep shadows of the Manhattan shore, and glided +swiftly along, secure from observation. At length Sam shot his skiff into a +little cove, darkly embowered by trees, and made it fast to the well known iron +ring. They now landed, and lighting the lanthorn, gathered their various +implements and proceeded slowly through the bushes. Every sound startled them, +even that of their footsteps among the dry leaves; and the hooting of a screech +owl, from the shattered chimney of father red-cap’s ruin, made their blood run +cold. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of all Wolfert’s caution in taking note of the landmarks, it was some +time before they could find the open place among the trees, where the treasure +was supposed to be buried. At length they came to the ledge of rock; and on +examining its surface by the aid of the lanthorn, Wolfert recognized the three +mystic crosses. Their hearts beat quick, for the momentous trial was at hand +that was to determine their hopes. +</p> + +<p> +The lanthorn was now held by Wolfert Webber, while the doctor produced the +divining rod. It was a forked twig, one end of which was grasped firmly in each +hand, while the centre, forming the stem, pointed perpendicularly upwards. The +doctor moved this wand about, within a certain distance of the earth, from +place to place, but for some time without any effect, while Wolfert kept the +light of the lanthorn turned full upon it, and watched it with the most +breathless interest. At length the rod began slowly to turn. The doctor grasped +it with greater earnestness, his hand trembling with the agitation of his mind. +The wand continued slowly to turn, until at length the stem had reversed its +position, and pointed perpendicularly downward; and remained pointing to one +spot as fixedly as the needle to the pole. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the spot!” said the doctor in an almost inaudible tone. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert’s heart was in his throat. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I dig?” said Sam, grasping the spade. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Pots tousends</i>, no!” replied the little doctor, hastily. He now ordered +his companions to keep close by him and to maintain the most inflexible +silence. That certain precautions must be taken, and ceremonies used to prevent +the evil spirits which keep about buried treasure from doing them any harm. The +doctor then drew a circle round the place, enough to include the whole party. +He next gathered dry twigs and leaves, and made a fire, upon which he threw +certain drugs and dried herbs which he had brought in his basket. A thick smoke +rose, diffusing a potent odor, savoring marvellously of brimstone and +assafoetida, which, however grateful it might be to the olfactory nerves of +spirits, nearly strangled poor Wolfert, and produced a fit of coughing and +wheezing that made the whole grove resound. Doctor Knipperhausen then unclasped +the volume which he had brought under his arm, which was printed in red and +black characters in German text. While Wolfert held the lanthorn, the doctor, +by the aid of his spectacles, read off several forms of conjuration in Latin +and German. He then ordered Sam to seize the pick-axe and proceed to work. The +close-bound soil gave obstinate signs of not having been disturbed for many a +year. After having picked his way through the surface, Sam came to a bed of +sand and gravel, which he threw briskly to right and left with the spade. +</p> + +<p> +“Hark!” said Wolfert, who fancied he heard a trampling among the dry leaves, +and a rustling through the bushes. Sam paused for a moment, and they listened. +No footstep was near. The bat flitted about them in silence; a bird roused from +its nest by the light which glared up among the trees, flew circling about the +flame. In the profound stillness of the woodland they could distinguish the +current rippling along the rocky shore, and the distant murmuring and roaring +of Hell Gate. +</p> + +<p> +Sam continued his labors, and had already digged a considerable hole. The +doctor stood on the edge, reading formulae every now and then from the black +letter volume, or throwing more drugs and herbs upon the fire; while Wolfert +bent anxiously over the pit, watching every stroke of the spade. Any one +witnessing the scene thus strangely lighted up by fire, lanthorn, and the +reflection of Wolfert’s red mantle, might have mistaken the little doctor for +some foul magician, busied in his incantations, and the grizzled-headed Sam as +some swart goblin, obedient to his commands. +</p> + +<p> +At length the spade of the fisherman struck upon something that sounded hollow. +The sound vibrated to Wolfert’s heart. He struck his spade again. +</p> + +<p> +“’Tis a chest,” said Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Full of gold, I’ll warrant it!” cried Wolfert, clasping his hands with +rapture. +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely had he uttered the words when a sound from overhead caught his ear. He +cast up his eyes, and lo! by the expiring light of the fire he beheld, just +over the disk of the rock, what appeared to be the grim visage of the drowned +buccaneer, grinning hideously down upon him. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert gave a loud cry and let fall the lanthorn. His panic communicated +itself to his companions. The negro leaped out of the hole, the doctor dropped +his book and basket and began to pray in German. All was horror and confusion. +The fire was scattered about, the lanthorn extinguished. In their hurry-skurry +they ran against and confounded one another. They fancied a legion of +hobgoblins let loose upon them, and that they saw by the fitful gleams of the +scattered embers, strange figures in red caps gibbering and ramping around +them. The doctor ran one way, Mud Sam another, and Wolfert made for the water +side. As he plunged struggling onwards through bush and brake, he heard the +tread of some one in pursuit. +</p> + +<p> +He scrambled frantically forward. The footsteps gained upon him. He felt +himself grasped by his cloak, when suddenly his pursuer was attacked in turn: a +fierce fight and struggle ensued—a pistol was discharged that lit up rock and +bush for a period, and showed two figures grappling together—all was then +darker than ever. The contest continued—the combatants clenched each other, and +panted and groaned, and rolled among the rocks. There was snarling and growling +as of a cur, mingled with curses in which Wolfert fancied he could recognize +the voice of the buccaneer. He would fain have fled, but he was on the brink of +a precipice and could go no farther. +</p> + +<p> +Again the parties were on their feet; again there was a tugging and struggling, +as if strength alone could decide the combat, until one was precipitated from +the brow of the cliff and sent headlong into the deep stream that whirled +below. Wolfert heard the plunge, and a kind of strangling bubbling murmur, but +the darkness of the night hid every thing from view, and the swiftness of the +current swept every thing instantly out of hearing. One of the combatants was +disposed of, but whether friend or foe Wolfert could not tell, nor whether they +might not both be foes. He heard the survivor approach and his terror revived. +He saw, where the profile of the rocks rose against the horizon, a human form +advancing. He could not be mistaken: it must be the buccaneer. Whither should +he fly! a precipice was on one side; a murderer on the other. The enemy +approached: he was close at hand. Wolfert attempted to let himself down the +face of the cliff. His cloak caught in a thorn that grew on the edge. He was +jerked from off his feet and held dangling in the air, half choaked by the +string with which his careful wife had fastened the garment round his neck. +Wolfert thought his last moment had arrived; already had he committed his soul +to St. Nicholas, when the string broke and he tumbled down the bank, bumping +from rock to rock and bush to bush, and leaving the red cloak fluttering like a +bloody banner in the air. +</p> + +<p> +It was a long while before Wolfert came to himself. When he opened his eyes the +ruddy streaks of the morning were already shooting up the sky. He found himself +lying in the bottom of a boat, grievously battered. He attempted to sit up but +was too sore and stiff to move. A voice requested him in friendly accents to +lie still. He turned his eyes toward the speaker: it was Dirk Waldron. He had +dogged the party, at the earnest request of Dame Webber and her daughter, who, +with the laudable curiosity of their sex, had pried into the secret +consultations of Wolfert and the doctor. Dirk had been completely distanced in +following the light skiff of the fisherman, and had just come in time to rescue +the poor money-digger from his pursuer. +</p> + +<p> +Thus ended this perilous enterprise. The doctor and Mud Sam severally found +their way back to the Manhattoes, each having some dreadful tale of peril to +relate. As to poor Wolfert, instead of returning in triumph, laden with bags of +gold, he was borne home on a shutter, followed by a rabble route of curious +urchins. His wife and daughter saw the dismal pageant from a distance, and +alarmed the neighborhood with their cries: they thought the poor man had +suddenly settled the great debt of nature in one of his wayward moods. Finding +him, however, still living, they had him conveyed speedily to bed, and a jury +of old matrons of the neighborhood assembled to determine how he should be +doctored. The whole town was in a buzz with the story of the money-diggers. +Many repaired to the scene of the previous night’s adventures: but though they +found the very place of the digging, they discovered nothing that compensated +for their trouble. Some say they found the fragments of an oaken chest and an +iron pot lid, which savored strongly of hidden money; and that in the old +family vault there were traces of holes and boxes, but this is all very +dubious. +</p> + +<p> +In fact, the secret of all this story has never to this day been discovered: +whether any treasure was ever actually buried at that place, whether, if so, it +was carried off at night by those who had buried it; or whether it still +remains there under the guardianship of gnomes and spirits until it shall be +properly sought for, is all matter of conjecture. For my part I incline to the +latter opinion; and make no doubt that great sums lie buried, both there and in +many other parts of this island and its neighborhood, ever since the times of +the buccaneers and the Dutch colonists; and I would earnestly recommend the +search after them to such of my fellow citizens as are not engaged in any other +speculations. +</p> + +<p> +There were many conjectures formed, also, as to who and what was the strange +man of the seas who had domineered over the little fraternity at Corlears Hook +for a time; disappeared so strangely, and reappeared so fearfully. Some +supposed him a smuggler stationed at that place to assist his comrades in +landing their goods among the rocky coves of the island. Others that he was a +buccaneer; one of the ancient comrades either of Kidd or Bradish, returned to +convey away treasures formerly hidden in the vicinity. The only circumstance +that throws any thing like a vague light over this mysterious matter is a +report that prevailed of a strange foreign-built shallop, with the look of a +piccaroon, having been seen hovering about the Sound for several days without +landing or reporting herself, though boats were seen going to and from her at +night: and that she was seen standing out of the mouth of the harbor, in the +gray of the dawn after the catastrophe of the money-diggers. +</p> + +<p> +I must not omit to mention another report, also, which I confess is rather +apocryphal, of the buccaneer, who was supposed to have been drowned, being seen +before daybreak, with a lanthorn in his hand, seated astride his great +sea-chest and sailing through Hell Gate, which just then began to roar and +bellow with redoubled fury. +</p> + +<p> +While all the gossip world was thus filled with talk and rumor, poor Wolfert +lay sick and sorrowful in his bed, bruised in body and sorely beaten down in +mind. His wife and daughter did all they could to bind up his wounds both +corporal and spiritual. The good old dame never stirred from his bedside, where +she sat knitting from morning till night; while his daughter busied herself +about him with the fondest care. Nor did they lack assistance from abroad. +Whatever may be said of the desertions of friends in distress, they had no +complaint of the kind to make. Not an old wife of the neighborhood but +abandoned her work to crowd to the mansion of Wolfert Webber, inquire after his +health and the particulars of his story. Not one came, moreover, without her +little pipkin of pennyroyal, sage, balm, or other herb-tea, delighted at an +opportunity of signalizing her kindness and her doctorship. What drenchings did +not the poor Wolfert undergo, and all in vain. It was a moving sight to behold +him wasting away day by day; growing thinner and thinner and ghastlier and +ghastlier, and staring with rueful visage from under an old patchwork +counterpane upon the jury of matrons kindly assembled to sigh and groan and +look unhappy around him. +</p> + +<p> +Dirk Waldron was the only being that seemed to shed a ray of sunshine into this +house of mourning. He came in with cheery look and manly spirit, and tried to +reanimate the expiring heart of the poor money-digger, but it was all in vain. +Wolfert was completely done over. If any thing was wanting to complete his +despair, it was a notice served upon him in the midst of his distress, that the +corporation were about to run a new street through the very centre of his +cabbage garden. He saw nothing before him but poverty and ruin; his last +reliance, the garden of his forefathers, was to be laid waste, and what then +was to become of his poor wife and child? +</p> + +<p> +His eyes filled with tears as they followed the dutiful Amy out of the room one +morning. Dirk Waldron was seated beside him; Wolfert grasped his hand, pointed +after his daughter, and for the first time since his illness broke the silence +he had maintained. +</p> + +<p> +“I am going!” said he, shaking his head feebly, “and when I am gone—my +poordaughter—” +</p> + +<p> +“Leave her to me, father!” said Dirk, manfully—“I’ll take care of her!” +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert looked up in the face of the cheery, strapping youngster, and saw there +was none better able to take care of a woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Enough,” said he, “she is yours!—and now fetch me a lawyer—let me make my will +and die.” +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer was brought—a dapper, bustling, round-headed little man, Roorback +(or Rollebuck, as it was pronounced) by name. At the sight of him the women +broke into loud lamentations, for they looked upon the signing of a will as the +signing of a death-warrant. Wolfert made a feeble motion for them to be silent. +Poor Amy buried her face and her grief in the bed-curtain. Dame Webber resumed +her knitting to hide her distress, which betrayed itself, however, in a +pellucid tear, that trickled silently down and hung at the end of her peaked +nose; while the cat, the only unconcerned member of the family, played with the +good dame’s ball of worsted, as it rolled about the floor. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert lay on his back, his nightcap drawn over his forehead; his eyes closed; +his whole visage the picture of death. He begged the lawyer to be brief, for he +felt his end approaching, and that he had no time to lose. The lawyer nibbed +his pen, spread out his paper, and prepared to write. +</p> + +<p> +“I give and bequeath,” said Wolfert, faintly, “my small farm—” +</p> + +<p> +“What—all!” exclaimed the lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +Wolfert half opened his eyes and looked upon the lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—all” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“What! all that great patch of land with cabbages and sunflowers, which the +corporation is just going to run a main street through?” +</p> + +<p> +“The same,” said Wolfert, with a heavy sigh and sinking back upon his pillow. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish him joy that inherits it!” said the little lawyer, chuckling and +rubbing his hands involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” said Wolfert, again opening his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“That he’ll be one of the richest men in the place!” cried little Rollebuck. +</p> + +<p> +The expiring Wolfert seemed to step back from the threshold of existence: his +eyes again lighted up; he raised himself in his bed, shoved back his red +worsted nightcap, and stared broadly at the lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t say so!” exclaimed he. +</p> + +<p> +“Faith, but I do!” rejoined the other. “Why, when that great field and that +piece of meadow come to be laid out in streets, and cut up into snug building +lots—why, whoever owns them need not pull off his hat to the patroon!” +</p> + +<p> +“Say you so?” cried Wolfert, half thrusting one leg out of bed, “why, then I +think I’ll not make my will yet!” +</p> + +<p> +To the surprise of everybody the dying man actually recovered. The vital spark +which had glimmered faintly in the socket, received fresh fuel from the oil of +gladness, which the little lawyer poured into his soul. It once more burnt up +into a flame. +</p> + +<p> +Give physic to the heart, ye who would revive the body of a spirit-broken man! +In a few days Wolfert left his room; in a few days more his table was covered +with deeds, plans of streets and building lots. Little Rollebuck was constantly +with him, his right-hand man and adviser, and instead of making his will, +assisted in the more agreeable task of making his fortune. In fact, Wolfert +Webber was one of those worthy Dutch burghers of the Manhattoes whose fortunes +have been made, in a manner, in spite of themselves; who have tenaciously held +on to their hereditary acres, raising turnips and cabbages about the skirts of +the city, hardly able to make both ends meet, until the corporation has cruelly +driven streets through their abodes, and they have suddenly awakened out of a +lethargy, and, to their astonishment, found themselves rich men. +</p> + +<p> +Before many months had elapsed a great bustling street passed through the very +centre of the Webber garden, just where Wolfert had dreamed of finding a +treasure. His golden dream was accomplished; he did indeed find an unlooked-for +source of wealth; for, when his paternal lands were distributed into building +lots, and rented out to safe tenants, instead of producing a paltry crop of +cabbages, they returned him an abundant crop of rents; insomuch that on quarter +day, it was a goodly sight to see his tenants rapping at his door, from morning +to night, each with a little round-bellied bag of money, the golden produce of +the soil. +</p> + +<p> +The ancient mansion of his forefathers was still kept up, but instead of being +a little yellow-fronted Dutch house in a garden, it now stood boldly in the +midst of a street, the grand house of the neighborhood; for Wolfert enlarged it +with a wing on each side, and a cupola or tea room on top, where he might climb +up and smoke his pipe in hot weather; and in the course of time the whole +mansion was overrun by the chubby-faced progeny of Amy Webber and Dirk Waldron. +</p> + +<p> +As Wolfert waxed old and rich and corpulent, he also set up a great +gingerbread-colored carriage drawn by a pair of black Flanders mares with tails +that swept the ground; and to commemorate the origin of his greatness he had +for a crest a fullblown cabbage painted on the pannels, with the pithy motto +<i>Alles Kopf</i> that is to say, ALL HEAD; meaning thereby that he had risen +by sheer head-work. +</p> + +<p> +To fill the measure of his greatness, in the fullness of time the renowned Ramm +Rapelye slept with his fathers, and Wolfert Webber succeeded to the +leathern-bottomed arm-chair in the inn parlor at Corlears Hook; where he long +reigned greatly honored and respected, insomuch that he was never known to tell +a story without its being believed, nor to utter a joke without its being +laughed at. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13514 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/13514-h/images/cover.jpg b/13514-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f98b017 --- /dev/null +++ b/13514-h/images/cover.jpg |
