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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/13984-h.zip b/13984-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..16a4098 --- /dev/null +++ b/13984-h.zip diff --git a/13984-h/13984-h.htm b/13984-h/13984-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c1b8e5 --- /dev/null +++ b/13984-h/13984-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5712 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>In the Wrong Paradise</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">In the Wrong Paradise, by Andrew Lang</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, In the Wrong Paradise, by Andrew Lang + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: In the Wrong Paradise + +Author: Andrew Lang + +Release Date: November 8, 2004 [eBook #13984] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WRONG PARADISE*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1886 Kegan Paul, Trench & Co. edition by +David Price, email ccx074@coventry</p> +<h1>In the Wrong Paradise and Other Stories<br /> +by Andrew Lang</h1> +<p>Contents:</p> +<p>The End of Phæacia<br /> +In the Wrong Paradise<br /> +A Cheap Nigger<br /> +The Romance of the First Radical<br /> +A Duchess’s Secret<br /> +The House of Strange Stories<br /> +In Castle Perilous<br /> +The Great Gladstone Myth<br /> +My Friend the Beach-Comber</p> +<h2>DEDICATION.</h2> +<p>DEAR RIDER HAGGARD,</p> +<p>I have asked you to let me put your name here, that I might have +the opportunity of saying how much pleasure I owe to your romances. +They make one a boy again while one is reading them; and the student +of “The Witch’s Head” and of “King Solomon’s +Mines” is as young, in heart, as when he hunted long ago with +Chingachgook and Uncas. You, who know the noble barbarian in his +African retreats, appear to retain more than most men of his fresh natural +imagination. We are all savages under our white skins; but you +alone recall to us the delights and terrors of the world’s nonage. +We are hunters again, trappers, adventurers bold, while we study you, +and the blithe barbarian wakens even in the weary person of letters. +He forgets proof-sheets and papers, and the “young lion” +seeks his food from God, in the fearless ancient way, with bow or rifle. +Of all modern heroes of romance, the dearest to me is your faithful +Zulu, and I own I cried when he bade farewell to his English master, +in “The Witch’s Head.”</p> +<p>In the following tales the natural man takes a hand, but he is seen +through civilized spectacles, not, as in your delightful books, with +the eyes of the sympathetic sportsman. If Why-Why and Mr. Gowles +amuse you a little, let this be my Diomedean exchange of bronze for +gold—of the new Phæacia for Kukuana land, or for that haunted +city of Kôr, in which your fair Ayesha dwells undying, as yet +unknown to the future lovers of <i>She.</i></p> +<p>Very sincerely yours,<br /> +A. LANG.<br /> +CROMER, <i>August</i> 29, 1886.</p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> +<p>The writer of these apologues hopes that the Rev. Mr. Gowles will +not be regarded as his idea of a typical missionary. The countrymen +of Codrington and Callaway, of Patteson and Livingstone, know better +what missionaries may be, and often are. But the wrong sort as +well as the right sort exists everywhere, and Mr. Gowles is not a very +gross caricature of the ignorant teacher of heathendom. I am convinced +that he would have seen nothing but a set of darkened savages in the +ancient Greeks. The religious eccentricities of the Hellenes are +not exaggerated in “The End of Phæacia;” nay, Mr. +Gowles might have seen odder things in Attica than he discovered, or +chose to record, in Boothland.</p> +<p>To avoid the charge of plagiarism, perhaps it should be mentioned +that “The Romance of the First Radical” was written long +before I read Tanner’s “Narrative of a Captivity among the +Indians.” Tanner, like Why-Why, had trouble with the chief +medicine-man of his community.</p> +<p>If my dear kinsman and companion of old days, J. J. A., reads “My +Friend the Beach-comber,” he will recognize many of his own yarns, +but the portrait of the narrator is wholly fanciful.</p> +<p>“In Castle Perilous” and “A Cheap Nigger” +are reprinted from the <i>Cornhill Magazine</i>; “My Friend the +Beach-comber,” from <i>Longman’s</i>; “The Great Gladstone +Myth,” from <i>Macmillan’s</i>; “In the Wrong Paradise,” +from the <i>Fortnightly Review</i>; “A Duchess’s Secret,” +from the <i>Overland Mail</i>; “The Romance of the First Radical,” +from <i>Fraser’s Magazine</i>; and “The End of Phæacia,” +from <i>Time</i>, by the courteous permission of the editors and proprietors +of those periodicals.</p> +<h2>THE END OF PHÆACIA</h2> +<h3>I. INTRODUCTORY. <a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">{1}</a></h3> +<p>The Rev. Thomas Gowles, well known in Colonial circles where the +Truth is valued, as “the Boanerges of the Pacific,” departed +this life at Hackney Wick, on the 6th of March, 1885. The Laodiceans +in our midst have ventured to affirm that the world at large has been +a more restful place since Mr. Gowles was taken from his corner of the +vineyard. The Boanerges of the Pacific was, indeed, one of those +rarely-gifted souls, souls like a Luther or a Knox, who can tolerate +no contradiction, and will palter with no compromise, where the Truth +is concerned. Papists, Puseyites, Presbyterians, and Pagans alike, +found in Mr. Gowles an opponent whose convictions were firm as a rock, +and whose method of proclaiming the Truth was as the sound of a trumpet. +Examples of his singular courage and daring in the work of the ministry +abound in the following narrative. Born and brought up in the +Bungletonian communion, himself collaterally connected, by a sister’s +marriage, with Jedediah Bungleton, the revered founder of the Very Particular +People, Gowles was inaccessible to the scepticism of the age.</p> +<p>His youth, it is true, had been stormy, like that of many a brand +afterwards promoted to being a vessel. His worldly education was +of the most elementary and indeed eleemosynary description, consequently +he despised secular learning, and science “falsely so called.” +It is recorded of him that he had almost a distaste for those difficult +chapters of the Epistles in which St. Paul mentions by name his Greek +friends and converts. In a controversy with an Oxford scholar, +conducted in the open air, under the Martyrs’ Memorial in that +centre of careless professors, Gowles had spoken of “Nicodĕmus,” +“Eubŭlus,” and “Stephānas.” +His unmannerly antagonist jeering at these slips of pronunciation, Gowles +uttered his celebrated and crushing retort, “Did Paul know Greek?” +The young man, his opponent, went away, silenced if not convinced.</p> +<p>Such a man was the Rev. Thomas Gowles in his home ministry. +Circumstances called him to that wider field of usefulness, the Pacific, +in which so many millions of our dusky brethren either worship owls, +butterflies, sharks, and lizards, or are led away captive by the seductive +pomps of the Scarlet Woman, or lapse languidly into the lap of a bloated +and Erastian establishment, ignorant of the Truth as possessed by our +community. Against all these forms of soul-destroying error the +Rev. Thomas Gowles thundered nobly, “passing,” as an admirer +said, “like an evangelical cyclone, from the New Hebrides to the +Aleutian Islands.” It was during one of his missionary voyages, +in a labour vessel, the <i>Blackbird</i>, that the following singular +events occurred, events which Mr. Gowles faithfully recorded, as will +be seen, in his missionary narrative. We omit, as of purely secular +interest, the description of the storm which wrecked the <i>Blackbird</i>, +the account of the destruction of the steamer with all hands (not, let +us try to hope, with all souls) on board, and everything that transpired +till Mr. Gowles found himself alone, the sole survivor, and bestriding +the mast in the midst of a tempestuous sea. What follows is from +the record kept on pieces of skin, shards of pottery, plates of metal, +papyrus leaves, and other strange substitutes for paper, used by Mr. +Gowles during his captivity.</p> +<h3>II. NARRATIVE OF MR. GOWLES. <a name="citation6"></a><a href="#footnote6">{6}</a></h3> +<p>“I must now, though in sore straits for writing materials, +and having entirely lost count of time, post up my diary, or rather +commence my narrative. So far as I can learn from the jargon of +the strange and lost people among whom Providence has cast me, this +is, in their speech, the last of the month, <i>Thargeelyun</i>, as near +as I can imitate the sound in English. Being in doubt as to the +true time, I am resolved to regard to-morrow, and every seventh day +in succession, as the Sabbath. The very natives, I have observed +with great interest, keep one day at fixed intervals sacred to the Sun-god, +whom they call Apollon, perhaps the same word as Apollyon. On +this day they do no manner of work, but <i>that</i> is hardly an exception +to their usual habits. A less industrious people (slaves and all) +I never met, even in the Pacific. As to being more than common +idle on one day out of seven, whether they have been taught so much +of what is <i>essential</i> by some earlier missionary, or whether they +may be the corrupted descendants of the Lost Tribes (whom they do not, +however, at all resemble outwardly, being, I must admit, of prepossessing +appearance), I can only conjecture. This Apollon of theirs, in +his graven images (of which there are many), carries a bow and arrows, +<i>fiery darts of the wicked</i>, another point in common between him +and Apollyon, in the <i>Pilgrim’s Progress</i>. May I, like +Christian, turn aside and quench his artillery!</p> +<p>To return to my narrative. When I recovered consciousness, +after the sinking of the <i>Blackbird</i>, I found myself alone, clinging +to the mast. Now was I tossed on the crest of the wave, now the +waters opened beneath me, and I sank down in the valleys of the sea. +Cold, numbed, and all but lifeless, I had given up hope of earthly existence, +and was nearly insensible, when I began to revive beneath the rays of +the sun.</p> +<p>The sea, though still moved by a swell, was now much smoother, and, +but for a strange vision, I might have believed that I was recovering +my strength. I must, however, have been delirious or dreaming, +for it appeared to me that a foreign female, of prepossessing exterior, +though somewhat indelicately dressed, arose out of the waters close +by my side, as lightly as if she had been a sea-gull on the wing. +About her head there was wreathed a kind of muslin scarf, which she +unwound and offered to me, indicating that I was to tie it about my +waist, and it would preserve me from harm. So weak and exhausted +was I that, without thinking, I did her bidding, and then lost sight +of the female. Presently, as it seemed (but I was so drowsy that +the time may have been longer than I fancied), I caught sight of land +from the crest of a wave. Steep blue cliffs arose far away out +of a white cloud of surf, and, though a strong swimmer, I had little +hope of reaching the shore in safety.</p> +<p>Fortunately, or rather, I should say, providentially, the current +and tide-rip carried me to the mouth of a river, and, with a great effort, +I got into the shoal-water, and finally staggered out on shore. +There was a wood hard by, and thither I dragged myself. The sun +was in mid heavens and very warm, and I managed to dry my clothes. +I am always most particular to wear the dress of my calling, observing +that it has a peculiar and gratifying effect on the minds of the natives. +I soon dried my tall hat, which, during the storm, I had attached to +my button-hole by a string, and, though it was a good deal battered, +I was not without hopes of partially restoring its gloss and air of +British respectability. As will be seen, this precaution was, +curiously enough, the human means of preserving my life. My hat, +my black clothes, my white neck-tie, and the hymn-book I carry would, +I was convinced, secure for me a favourable reception among the natives +(if of the gentle brown Polynesian type), whom I expected to find on +the island.</p> +<p>Exhausted by my sufferings, I now fell asleep, but was soon wakened +by loud cries of anguish uttered at no great distance. I started +to my feet, and beheld an extraordinary spectacle, which at once assured +me that I had fallen among natives of the worst and lowest type. +The dark places of the earth are, indeed, full of horrid cruelty.</p> +<p>The first cries which had roused me must have been comparatively +distant, though piercing, and even now they reached me confused in the +notes of a melancholy chant or hymn. But the shrieks grew more +shrill, and I thought I could distinguish the screams of a woman in +pain or dread from the groans drawn with more difficulty from a man. +I leaped up, and, climbing a high part of the river bank, I beheld, +within a couple of hundred yards, an extraordinary procession coming +from the inner country towards the mouth of the stream.</p> +<p>At first I had only a confused view of bright stuffs—white, +blue, and red—and the shining of metal objects, in the midst of +a crowd partly concealed by the dust they raised on their way. +Very much to my surprise I found that they were advancing along a wide +road, paved in a peculiar manner, for I had never seen anything of this +kind among the heathen tribes of the Pacific. Their dresses, too, +though for the most part mere wraps, as it were, of coloured stuff, +thrown round them, pinned with brooches, and often clinging in a very +improper way to the figure, did not remind me of the costume (what there +is of it) of Samoans, Fijians, or other natives among whom I have been +privileged to labour.</p> +<p>But these observations give a more minute impression of what I saw +than, for the moment, I had time to take in. The foremost part +of the procession consisted of boys, many of them almost naked. +Their hands were full of branches, wreathed in a curious manner with +strips of white or coloured wools. They were all singing, and +were led by a woman carrying in her arms a mis-shapen wooden idol, not +much unlike those which are too frequent spectacles all over the Pacific. +Behind the boys I could now distinctly behold a man and woman of the +Polynesian type, naked to the waist, and staggering with bent backs +beneath showers of blows. The people behind them, who were almost +as light in colour as ourselves, were cruelly flogging them with cutting +branches of trees. Round the necks of the unfortunate victims—criminals +I presumed—were hung chains of white and black figs, and in their +hands they held certain herbs, figs, and cheese, for what purpose I +was, and remain, unable to conjecture. Whenever their cries were +still for a moment, the woman who carried the idol turned round, and +lifted it in her arms with words which I was unable to understand, urging +on the tormentors to ply their switches with more severity.</p> +<p>Naturally I was alarmed by the strangeness and ferocity of the natives, +so I concealed myself hastily in some brushwood behind a large tree. +Much to my horror I found that the screams, groans, and singing only +drew nearer and nearer. The procession then passed me so close +that I could see blood on the backs of the victims, and on their faces +an awful dread and apprehension. Finally, the crowd reached the +mouth of the river, at the very place where I had escaped from the sea. +By aid of a small pocket-glass I could make out that the men were piling +great faggots of green wood, which I had noticed that some of them carried, +on a spot beneath the wash of high tide. When the pile had reached +a considerable height, the two victims were placed in the middle. +Then, by some means, which I was too far off to detect, fire was produced, +and applied to the wild wood in which the unhappy man and woman were +enveloped. Soon, fortunately, a thick turbid smoke, in which but +little flame appeared, swept all over the beach. I endeavoured +to stop my ears, and turned my head away that I might neither see nor +hear more of this spectacle, which I now perceived to be a human sacrifice +more cruel than is customary even among the Fijians.</p> +<p>When I next ventured to look up, the last trails of smoke were vanishing +away across the sea; the sun gazed down on the bright, many-coloured +throng, who were now singing another of their hymns, while some of the +number were gathering up ashes (human ashes!) from a blackened spot +on the sand, and were throwing them into the salt water. The wind +tossed back a soft grey dust in their faces, mixed with the surf and +spray. It was dark before the crowd swept by me again, now chanting +in what appeared to be a mirthful manner, and with faces so smiling +and happy that I could scarcely believe they had just taken part in +such abominable cruelty. On the other hand, a weight seemed to +have been removed from their consciences. So deceitful are the +wiles of Satan, who deludes the heathen most in their very religion! +Tired and almost starved as I was, these reflections forced themselves +upon me, even while I was pondering on the dreadful position in which +I found myself. Way of escape from the island (obviously a very +large one) there was none. But, if I remained all night in the +wood, I must almost perish of cold and hunger. I had therefore +no choice but to approach the barbarous people, though, from my acquaintance +with natives, I knew well that they were likely either to kill and eat +me, or to worship me as a god. Either event was too dreadful to +bear reflection. I was certain, however, that, owing to the dress +of my sacred calling, I could not be mistaken for a mere beach-comber +or labour-hunter, and I considered that I might easily destroy the impression +(natural among savages on first seeing a European) that I was a god. +I therefore followed the throng from a distance, taking advantage for +concealment of turns in the way, and of trees and underwood beside the +road. Some four miles’ walking, for which I was very unfit, +brought us across a neck of land, and from high ground in the middle +I again beheld the sea. Very much to my surprise the cape on which +I looked down, safe in the rear of the descending multitude, was occupied +by a kind of city.</p> +<p>The houses were not the mere huts of South Sea Islanders, but, though +built for the most part of carved and painted wood, had white stone +foundations, and were of considerable height. On a rock in the +centre of the bay were some stone edifices which I took to be temples +or public buildings. The crowd gradually broke up, turning into +their own dwellings on the shore, where, by the way, some large masted +vessels were drawn up in little docks. But, while the general +public, if I may say so, slowly withdrew, the woman with the idol in +her arms, accompanied by some elderly men of serious aspect, climbed +the road up to the central public buildings.</p> +<p>Moved by some impulse which I could hardly explain, I stealthily +followed them, and at last found myself on a rocky platform, a kind +of public square, open on one side to the sea, and shut in on either +hand, and at the back, by large houses with smooth round pillars, and +decorated with odd coloured carvings. There was in the open centre +of the square an object which I recognized as an altar, with a fire +burning on it. Some men came out of the chief building, dragging +a sheep, with chains of flowers round its neck. Another man threw +something on the fire, which burned with a curious smell. At once +I recognized the savour of incense, against which (as employed illegally +by the Puseyites) I had often firmly protested in old days at home. +The spirit of a soldier of the Truth entered into me; weary as I was, +I rushed from the dusky corner where I had been hidden in the twilight, +ran to the altar, and held up my hand with my hymn-book as I began to +repeat an address that had often silenced the papistic mummers in England. +Before I had uttered half a dozen words, the men who were dragging the +sheep flew at me, and tried to seize me, while one of them offered a +strange-looking knife at my throat. I thought my last hour had +come, and the old Adam awakening in me, I delivered such a blow with +my right on the eye of the man with the knife, that he reeled and fell +heavily against the altar. Then assuming an attitude of self-defence +(such as was, alas! too familiar to me in my unregenerate days), I awaited +my assailants.</p> +<p>They were coming on in a body when the veil of the large edifice +in front was lifted, and a flash of light streamed out on the dusky +square, as an old man dressed in red hurried to the scene of struggle. +He wore a long white beard, had green leaves twisted in his hair, and +carried in his hand a gilded staff curiously wreathed with wool. +When they saw him approaching, my assailants fell back, each of them +kissing his own hand and bowing slightly in the direction of the temple, +as I rightly supposed it to be. The old man, who was followed +by attendants carrying torches burning, was now close to us, and on +beholding me, he exhibited unusual emotions.</p> +<p>My appearance, no doubt, was at that moment peculiar, and little +creditable, as I have since thought, to a minister, however humble. +My hat was thrust on the back of my head, my coat was torn, my shirt +open, my neck-tie twisted round under my ear, and my whole attitude +was not one generally associated with the peaceful delivery of the message. +Still, I had never conceived that any spectacle, however strange and +unbecoming, could have produced such an effect on the native mind, especially +in a person who was manifestly a chief, or high-priest of some heathen +god. Seeing him pause, and turn pale, I dropped my hands, and +rearranged my dress as best I might. The old Tohunga, as my New +Zealand flock used to call their priest, now lifted his eyes to heaven +with an air of devotion, and remained for some moments like one absorbed +in prayer or meditation. He then rapidly uttered some words, which, +of course, I could not understand, whereon his attendants approached +me gently, with signs of respect and friendship. Not to appear +lacking in courtesy, or inferior in politeness to savages, I turned +and raised my hat, which seemed still more to alarm the old priest. +He spoke to one of his attendants, who instantly ran across the square, +and entered the courtyard of a large house, surrounded by a garden, +of which the tall trees looked over the wall, and wooden palisade. +The old man then withdrew into the temple, and I distinctly saw him +scatter, with the leafy bough of a tree, some water round him as he +entered, from a vessel beside the door. This convinced me that +some of the emissaries of the Scarlet Woman had already been busy among +the benighted people, a conjecture, however, which proved to be erroneous.</p> +<p>I was now left standing by the altar, the attendants observing me +with respect which I feared might at any moment take the blasphemous +form of worship. Nor could I see how I was to check their adoration, +and turn it into the proper channel, if, as happened to Captain Cook, +and has frequently occurred since, these darkened idolaters mistook +me for one of their own deities. I might spurn them, indeed; but +when Nicholson adopted that course, and beat the Fakirs who worshipped +him during the Indian Mutiny, his conduct, as I have read, only redoubled +their enthusiasm. However, as events proved, they never at any +time were inclined to substitute me for their heathen divinities; very +far from it indeed, though their peculiar conduct was calculated to +foster in my breast this melancholy delusion.</p> +<p>I had not been left long to my own thoughts when I marked lights +wandering in the garden or courtyard whither the messenger had been +sent by the old priest. Presently there came forth from the court +a man of remarkable stature, and with an air of seriousness and responsibility. +In his hand he carried a short staff, or baton, with gold knobs, and +he wore a thin golden circlet in his hair. As he drew near, the +veil of the temple was again lifted, and the aged priest came forward, +bearing in his arms a singular casket of wood, ornamented with alternate +bands of gold and ivory, carved with outlandish figures. The torch-bearers +crowded about us in the darkness, and it was a strange spectacle to +behold the smoky, fiery light shining on the men’s faces and the +rich coloured dresses, or lighting up the white idol of Apollon, which +stood among the laurel trees at the entrance of the temple.</p> +<h3>III. THE PROPHECY.</h3> +<p>The priest and the man with the gold circlet, whom I took to be a +chief, now met, and, fixing their eyes on me, held a conversation of +which, naturally, I understood nothing. I maintained an unmoved +demeanour, and, by way of showing my indifference, and also of impressing +the natives with the superiority of our civilization, I took out and +wound up my watch, which, I was glad to find, had not been utterly ruined +by the salt water. Meanwhile the priest was fumbling in his casket, +whence he produced a bundle of very ragged and smoky old bits of parchment +and scraps of potsherds. These he placed in the hands of his attendants, +who received them kneeling. From the very bottom of the casket +he extracted some thin plates of a greyish metal, lead, I believe, all +mouldy, stained, and ragged. Over these he pored and puzzled for +some time, trying, as I guessed, to make out something inscribed on +this curious substitute for writing-paper. I had now recovered +my presence of mind, and, thinking at once to astonish and propitiate, +I drew from my pocket, wiped, and presented to him my spectacles, indicating, +by example, the manner of their employment. No sooner did he behold +these common articles of every-day use, than the priest’s knees +began to knock together, and his old hands trembled so that he could +scarcely fix the spectacles on his nose. When he had managed this +it was plain that he found much less difficulty with his documents. +He now turned them rapidly over, and presently discovered one thin sheet +of lead, from which he began to read, or rather chant, in a slow measured +tone, every now and then pausing and pointing to me, to my hat, and +to the spectacles which he himself wore at the moment. The chief +listened to him gravely, and with an expression of melancholy that grew +deeper and sadder till the end. It was a strange scene.</p> +<p>I afterwards heard the matter of the prophecy, as it proved to be, +which was thus delivered. I have written it down in the language +of the natives, spelling it as best I might, and I give the translation +which I made when I became more or less acquainted with their very difficult +dialect. <a name="citation23a"></a><a href="#footnote23a">{23a}</a> +It will be seen that the prophecy, whatever its origin, was strangely +fulfilled. Perhaps the gods of this people were not mere idols, +but evil spirits, permitted, for some wise purpose, to delude their +unhappy worshippers. <a name="citation23b"></a><a href="#footnote23b">{23b}</a> +This, doubtless, they might best do by occasionally telling the truth, +as in my instance. But this theory—namely, that the gods +of the heathen are perhaps evil and wandering spirits—is, for +reasons which will afterwards appear, very painful to me, personally +reminding me that I may have sinned as few have done since the days +of the early Christians. But I trust this will not be made a reproach +to me in our Connection, especially as I have been the humble instrument +of so blessed a change in the land of the heathen, there being no more +of them left. But, to return to the prophecy, it is given roughly +here in English. It ran thus:—“But when a man, having +a chimney pot on his head, and four eyes, appears, and when a sail-less +ship also comes, sailing without wind and breathing smoke, then will +destruction fall upon the Scherian island.” Perhaps, from +this and other expressions to be offered in a later chapter, the learned +will be able to determine whether the speech is of the Polynesian or +the Papuan family, or whether, as I sometimes suspect, it is of neither, +but of a character quite isolated and peculiar.</p> +<p>The effect produced on the mind of the chief by the prophecy amazed +me, as he looked, for a native, quite a superior and intelligent person. +None of them, however, as I found, escaped the influence of their baneful +superstitions. Approaching me, he closely examined myself, my +dress, and the spectacles which the old priest now held in his hands. +The two men then had a hurried discussion, and I have afterwards seen +reason to suppose that the chief was pointing out the absence of certain +important elements in the fulfilment of the prophecy. Here was +I, doubtless, “a man bearing a chimney on his head” (for +in this light they regarded my hat), and having “four eyes,” +that is, including my spectacles, a convenience with which they had +hitherto been unacquainted. It was undeniable that a prophecy +written by a person not accustomed to the resources of civilization, +could not more accurately have described me and my appearance. +But the “ship without sails” was still lacking to the completion +of what had been foretold, as the chief seemed to indicate by waving +his hand towards the sea. For the present, therefore, they might +hope that the worst would not come to the worst. Probably this +conclusion brought a ray of hope into the melancholy face of the chief, +and the old priest himself left off trembling. They even smiled, +and, in their conversation, which assumed a lighter tone, I caught and +recorded in pencil on my shirt-cuff, for future explanation, words which +sounded like <i>aiskistos aneer</i>, <i>farmakos</i>, <i>catharma</i>, +and <i>Thargeelyah</i>. <a name="citation25"></a><a href="#footnote25">{25}</a> +Finally the aged priest hobbled back into his temple, and the chief, +beckoning me to follow, passed within the courtyard of his house.</p> +<h3>IV. AT THE CHIEF’S HOUSE.</h3> +<p>The chief leading the way, I followed through the open entrance of +the courtyard. The yard was very spacious, and under the dark +shade of the trees I could see a light here and there in the windows +of small huts along the walls, where, as I found later, the slaves and +the young men of the family slept. In the middle of the space +there was another altar, I am sorry to say; indeed, there were altars +everywhere. I never heard of a people so religious, in their own +darkened way, as these islanders. At the further end of the court +was a really large and even stately house, with no windows but a clerestory, +indicated by the line of light from within, flickering between the top +of the wall and the beginning of the high-pitched roof. Light +was also streaming through the wide doorway, from which came the sound +of many voices. The house was obviously full of people, and, just +before we reached the deep verandah, a roofed space open to the air +in front, they began to come out, some of them singing. They had +flowers in their hair, and torches in their hands. The chief, +giving me a sign to be silent, drew me apart within the shadow of a +plane tree, and we waited there till the crowd dispersed, and went, +I presume, to their own houses. There were no women among them, +and the men carried no spears nor other weapons. When the court +was empty, we walked up the broad stone steps and stood within the doorway. +I was certainly much surprised at what I saw. There was a rude +magnificence about this house such as I had never expected to find in +the South Sea Islands. Nay, though I am not unacquainted with +the abodes of opulence at home, and have been a favoured guest of some +of our merchant princes (including Messrs. Bunton, the eminent haberdashers, +whose light is so generously bestowed on our Connection), I admit that +I had never looked on a more spacious reception-room, furnished, of +course, in a somewhat savage manner, but, obviously, regardless of expense. +The very threshold between the court and the reception-room, to which +you descended by steps, was made of some dark metal, inlaid curiously +with figures of beasts and birds, also in metal (gold, as I afterwards +learned), of various shades of colour and brightness.</p> +<p>At first I had some difficulty in making out the details of the vast +apartment which lay beyond. I was almost dizzy with hunger and +fatigue, and my view was further obscured by a fragrant blue smoke, +which rose in soft clouds from an open fireplace in the middle of the +room. Singular to say, there was no chimney, merely a hole in +the lofty roof, through which most of the smoke escaped. The ceiling +itself, which was supported by carved rafters, was in places quite black +with the vapour of many years. The smoke, however, was thin, and +as the fuel on the fire, and on the braziers, was of dry cedar and sandal-wood, +the perfume, though heavy, was not unpleasant. The room was partly +illuminated by the fire itself, partly by braziers full of blazing branches +of trees; but, what was most remarkable, there were rows of metal images +of young men (naked, I am sorry to say), with burning torches in their +hands, ranged all along the side walls.</p> +<p>A good deal of taste, in one sense, had been expended in making these +images, and money had clearly been no object. I might have been +somewhat dazzled by the general effect, had I not reflected that, in +my own country, gas is within reach of the poorest purse, while the +electric light itself may be enjoyed by the very beggar in the street. +Here, on the contrary, the dripping of the wax from the torches, the +black smoke on the roof, the noisy crackling of the sandal-wood in the +braziers, all combined to prove that these natives, though ingenious +enough in their way, were far indeed below the level of modern civilization. +The abominable ceremony of the afternoon would have proved as much, +and now the absence of true <i>comfort</i>, even in the dwelling of +a chief, made me think once more of the hardships of a missionary’s +career.</p> +<p>But I must endeavour to complete the picture of domestic life in +the island, which I now witnessed for the first time, and which will +never be seen again by Europeans. The walls themselves were of +some dark but glittering metal, on which designs in lighter metal were +inlaid. There were views of the chief going to the chase, his +bow in his hand; of the chief sacrificing to idols; of men and young +women engaged in the soul-destroying practice of promiscuous dancing; +there were wild beasts, lions among others; rivers, with fish in them; +mountains, trees, the sun and moon, and stars, all not by any means +ill designed, for the work of natives. The pictures, indeed, reminded +me a good deal of the ugly Assyrian curiosities in the British Museum, +as I have seen them when conducting the children of the Bungletonian +Band of Hope through the rooms devoted to the remains of Bible peoples, +such as the Egyptians, Hittites, and others.</p> +<p>Red or blue curtains, strangely embroidered, hung over the doors, +and trophies of swords, shields, and spears, not of steel, but of some +darker metal, were fixed on the tall pillars that helped to prop the +roof. At the top of the wall, just beneath the open unglazed spaces, +which admitted light and air in the daytime, and wind and rain in bad +weather, was a kind of frieze, or coping, of some deep blue material. +<a name="citation30"></a><a href="#footnote30">{30}</a> All along +the sides of the hall ran carved seats, covered with pretty light embroidered +cloths, not very different from modern Oriental fabrics. The carpets +and rugs were precisely like those of India and Persia, and I supposed +that they must have been obtained through commerce. But I afterwards +learned that they were, beyond doubt, of native manufacture.</p> +<p>At the further end of the room was a kind of platform, or daïs, +on which tables were set with fruit and wine. But much more curious +than the furniture of the hall was the group of women sitting by the +fire in the centre. There sat in two rows some twenty girls, all +busily weaving, and throwing the shuttle from hand to hand, laughing +and chattering in low voices. In the midst of them, on a high +chair of cedar-wood, decorated with ivory, and with an ivory footstool, +sat a person whom, in a civilized country, one must have looked on with +respect as a lady of high rank. She, like her husband the chief, +had a golden circlet twisted in her hair, which was still brown and +copious, and she wore an appearance of command.</p> +<p>At her feet, on a stool, reclined a girl who was, I must confess, +of singular beauty. Doto had long fair hair, a feature most unusual +among these natives. She had blue eyes, and an appearance of singular +innocence and frankness. She was, at the moment, embroidering +a piece of work intended, as I afterwards learned with deep pain, for +the covering of one of their idols, to whose service the benighted young +woman was devoted. Often in after days, I saw Doto stooping above +her embroidery and deftly interweaving the green and golden threads +into the patterns of beasts and flowers. Often my heart went out +to this poor child of pagan tribe, and I even pleased myself with the +hope that some day, a reclaimed and enlightened character, she might +employ her skill in embroidering slippers and braces for a humble vessel. +I seemed to see her, a helpmate meet for me, holding Mothers’ +Meetings, playing hymn-tunes on the lyre, or the double pipes, the native +instruments, and, above all, winning the islanders from their cruel +and abominable custom of exposing their infant children on the mountains. +How differently have all things been arranged.</p> +<p>But I am wandering from my story. When we reached the group +by the fireside, who had at first been unaware of our entrance, the +chief’s wife gave a slight start, alarmed doubtless by my appearance. +She could never have seen, nor even dreamed of, such a spectacle as +I must have presented, haggard, ragged, faint with hunger, and worn +with fatigue as I was. The chief motioned to me that I should +kneel at his wife’s feet, and kiss her hand, but I merely bowed, +not considering this a fit moment to protest otherwise against such +sacrilegious mummeries. But the woman—her name I learned +later was Ocyale—did not take my attitude in bad part. The +startled expression of her face changed to a look of pity, and, with +a movement of her hand, she directed Doto to bring a large golden cup +from the table at the upper end of the room. Into this cup she +ladled some dark liquid from a bowl which was placed on a small three-legged +stand, or dumb waiter, close to her side. Next she spilt a little +of the wine on the polished floor, with an appearance of gravity which +I did not understand. It appears that this spilling of wine is +a drink offering to their idols. She then offered me the cup, +which I was about to taste, when I perceived that the liquor was indubitably +<i>alcoholic</i>!</p> +<p>A total abstainer, I had, I am thankful to say, strength enough to +resist the temptation thus adroitly thrust upon me. Setting down +the cup, I pointed to the badge of blue ribbon, which, though damp and +colourless, remained faithful to my button-hole. I also made signs +I was hungry, and would be glad of something to eat. My gestures, +as far as the blue ribbon went, must have been thrown away, of course, +but any one could understand that I was fainting from hunger. +The mistress of the house called to one of the spinning girls, who rose +and went within the door opening from the platform at the upper end +of the room. She presently returned with an old woman, a housekeeper, +as we would say, and obviously a faithful and familiar servant. +After some conversation, of which I was probably the topic, the old +woman hobbled off, laughing. She soon came back, bringing, to +my extreme delight, a basket with cakes and goat cheese, and some cold +pork in a dish.</p> +<p>I ought, perhaps, to say here that, in spite of the luxury of their +appointments, and their extraordinary habit of “eating and drinking +all day to the going down of the sun” (as one of their own poets +says), these islanders are by no means good cooks. I have tasted +of more savoury meats, dressed in coverings of leaves on hot stones, +in Maori <i>pahs</i>, or in New Caledonian villages, than among the +comparatively civilized natives of the country where I now found myself. +Among the common people, especially, there was no notion of hanging +or keeping meat. Often have I seen a man kill a hog on the floor +of his house, cut it up, toast it, as one may say, at the fire, and +then offer the grilled and frequently under-done flesh to his guests. +Invariably the guests are obliged to witness the slaughter of the animal +which is to supply their dinner. This slaughter is performed as +a kind of sacrifice; the legs of the beast are the portions of the gods, +and are laid, with bits of fat, upon the altars. Then chops, or +rather kabobs, of meat are hacked off, spitted, and grilled or roasted +at the fire. Consequently all the meat tasted in this island is +actually “meat offered to idols.”</p> +<p>When I made this discovery the shock was very great, and I feared +I was repeating a sin denounced from the earliest ages. But what +was I to do? Not the meat only, but the vegetables, the fruit, +the grain, the very fish (which the natives never eat except under stress +of great hunger), were sacred to one or other of their innumerable idols. +I must eat, or starve myself to death—a form of suicide. +I therefore made up my mind to eat without scruple, remembering that +the gods of the nations are nothing at all, but the fancies of vain +dreamers, and the invention of greedy and self-seeking priests.</p> +<p>These scruples were of later growth, after I had learned that their +meals were invariably preceded by a sacrifice, partly to provide the +food, partly as grace before meat. On the present occasion I made +an excellent supper, though put to a good deal of inconvenience by the +want of forks, which were entirely unknown on the island. Finding +that I would not taste the alcoholic liquor, which the natives always +mixed with a large proportion of water, Doto rose, went out, and returned +with a great bowl of ivy-wood, curiously carved, and full of milk. +In this permitted beverage, as my spirits were rising, I drank the young +lady’s health, indicating my gratitude as well as I could. +She bowed gracefully, and returned to her task of embroidery. +Meanwhile her father and mother were deep in conversation, and paid +no attention to me, obviously understanding that my chief need was food. +I could not but see that the face of the chief’s wife was overclouded, +probably with anxiety caused by the prophecy of which I was, or was +taken for, the subject.</p> +<p>When my hunger was satisfied, I fell, it seems, into a kind of doze, +from which I was wakened by the noise of people rising, moving, and +pushing back chairs. I collected my senses, and perceived that +the room was almost dark, most of the inmates had gone, and the chief +was lighting a torch at one of the braziers. This torch he placed +in my hand, indicating, as I understood, that I was to put myself under +the guidance of two of the young women who had been spinning. +At this I was somewhat perplexed, but followed where they went before +me, each of them holding a burning torch. The light flared and +the smoke drifted among the corridors, till we came within sound of +running water. In a lofty green chamber was a large bath of polished +marble, carved with shapes of men armed with pitchforks, and employed +in spearing fish. The bath was full of clear water, of somewhat +higher than tepid heat, and the stream, welling up in one part, flowed +out in another, not splashing or spilling. The young women now +brought flasks of oil, large sponges, such as are common in these seas, +and such articles of dress as are worn by the men among the natives. +But, to my astonishment, the girls showed no intention of going away, +and it soon became evident <i>that they meant to assist me in my toilet</i>! +I had some difficulty in getting them to understand the indecorum of +their conduct, or rather (for I doubt if they understood it after all) +in prevailing on them to leave me. I afterwards learned that this +custom, shocking as it appears to Europeans, is regarded as entirely +right and usual even by the better class of islanders; nor, to do them +justice, have I ever heard any imputations on the morality of their +women. Except among the shepherds and shepherdesses in the rural +districts, whose conduct was very regardless, a high standard of modesty +prevailed among the female natives. In this, I need not say, they +were a notable exception among Polynesian races.</p> +<p>Left to my own devices by the retreat of the young women, I revelled +in the pleasures of the bath, and then the question arose, How was I +to be clothed?</p> +<p>I had, of course, but one shirt with me, and that somewhat frayed +and worn. My boots, too, were almost useless from their prolonged +immersion in salt water. Yet I could not bring myself to adopt +the peculiar dress of the natives, though the young persons had left +in the bath-room changes of raiment such as are worn by the men of rank. +These garments were simple, and not uncomfortable, but, as they showed +the legs from the knees downwards, like kilts, I felt that they would +be unbecoming to one in my position.</p> +<p>Almost the chief distinction between civilized man and the savage, +is the wearing of trousers. When a missionary in Tongo, and prime +minister of King Haui Ha there, I made the absence of breeches in the +males an offence punishable by imprisonment. Could I, on my very +first appearance among the islanders to-morrow, fly, as it were, in +the face of my own rules, and prove false to my well-known and often +expressed convictions? I felt that such backsliding was impossible. +On mature consideration, therefore, I made the following arrangement.</p> +<p>The garments of the natives, when they condescended to wear any, +were but two in number. First, there was a long linen or woollen +shirt or smock, without sleeves, which fell from the neck to some distance +below the knees. This shirt I put on. A belt is generally +worn, into which the folds of the smock can be drawn up or “kilted,” +when the wearer wishes to have his limbs free for active exercise. +The other garment is simply a large square piece of stuff, silken or +woollen as it happens in accordance with the weather, and the rank of +the wearer. In this a man swathes himself, somewhat as a Highlander +does in his plaid, pinning it over the shoulder and leaving the arms +free. When one is accustomed to it, this kind of dress is not +uncomfortable, and many of the younger braves carried it with a good +deal of grace, showing some fancy and originality in the dispositions +of the folds. Though attired in this barbarous guise, I did not, +of course, dispense with my trousers, which, being black, contrasted +somewhat oddly with my primrose-coloured <i>ki ton</i>, as they call +the smock, and the dark violet <i>clamis</i>, or plaid. When the +natives do not go bareheaded, they usually wear a kind of light, soft +wideawake, but this. I discarded in favour of my hat, which had +already produced so remarkable an effect on their superstitious minds.</p> +<p>Now I was dressed, as fittingly as possible in the circumstances, +but I felt that my chief need was a bed to lie down upon. I did +not wish to sleep in the bath-room, so, taking my torch from the stand +in which I had placed it, I sallied forth into the corridors, attired +as I have described, and carrying my coat under my arm. A distant +light, and the noise of females giggling, which increased most indecorously +as I drew near, attracted my attention. Walking in the direction +of the sounds, I soon discovered the two young women to whose charge +I had been committed by the chief. They appeared to be in high +spirits, and, seizing my arms before I could offer any resistance, they +dragged me at a great pace down the passage and out into the verandah. +Here the air was very fragrant and balmy, and a kind of comfortable +“shakedown” of mattresses, covered with coloured blankets, +had been laid for me in a corner. I lay down as soon as the sound +of the young women’s merriment died out in the distance, and after +the extraordinary events of the night, I was soon sleeping as soundly +as if I had been in my father’s house at Hackney Wick.</p> +<h3>V. A STRANGER ARRIVES.</h3> +<p>When I wakened next morning, wonderfully refreshed by sleep and the +purity of the air, I had some difficulty in remembering where I was +and how I came there in such a peculiar costume. But the voices +of the servants in the house, and the general stir of people going to +and fro, convinced me that I had better be up and ready to put my sickle +into this harvest of heathen darkness. Little did I think how +soon the heathen darkness would be trying to put the sickle into me! +I made my way with little difficulty, being guided by the sound of the +running water, to the bath-room, and thence into the gardens. +These were large and remarkably well arranged in beds and plots of flowers +and fruit-trees. I particularly admired a fountain in the middle, +which watered the garden, and supplied both the chief’s house +and the town. Returning by way of the hall, I met the chief, who, +saluting me gravely, motioned me to one of many small tables on which +was set a bowl of milk, some cakes, and some roasted kid’s flesh.</p> +<p>After I had done justice to this breakfast, he directed me to follow +him, and, walking before me with his gold-knobbed staff in his hand, +passed out of the shady court into the public square. Here we +found a number of aged men seated on unpleasantly smooth and cold polished +stones in a curious circle of masonry. They were surrounded by +a crowd of younger men, shouting, laughing, and behaving with all the +thoughtless levity and merriment of a Polynesian mob. They became +silent as the chief approached, and the old men rose from their places +till he had taken a kind of rude throne in the circle.</p> +<p>For my part, I was obliged to stand alone in their midst, and it +seemed that they were debating about myself and my future treatment. +First the old priest, whom I had seen on the night before, got up, and, +as I fancied, his harangue was very unfavourable to me. He pointed +at the inevitable flower-crowned altar which, of course, was in the +centre of the market-place, and from the way he shook a sickle he held +in his hand I believe that he was proposing to sacrifice me on the spot. +In the midst of his oration two vultures, black with white breasts, +flew high over our heads, chasing a dove, which they caught and killed +right above the market-place, so that the feathers fell down on the +altar. The islanders, as I afterwards discovered, are full of +childish superstitions about the flight of birds, from which they derive +omens as to future events. The old priest manifestly attempted +to make political capital against me out of the interesting occurrence +in natural history which we had just observed. He hurried to the +altar, caught up a handful of the bleeding feathers, and, with sickle +in hand, was rushing towards me, when he tripped over the head of a +bullock that had lately been sacrificed, and fell flat on his face, +while the sickle flew far out of his hand.</p> +<p>On this the young men, who were very frivolous, like most of the +islanders, laughed aloud, and even the elders smiled. The chief +now rose with his staff in his grasp, and, pointing first to me and +then to the sky, was, I imagined, propounding a different interpretation +of the omen from that advanced by the old priest. Meantime the +latter, with a sulky expression of indifference, sat nursing his knees, +which had been a good deal damaged by his unseemly sprawl on the ground. +When the chief sat down, a very quiet, absent-minded old gentleman arose. +Elatreus was his name, as I learned later; his family had a curious +history, and he himself afterwards came to an unhappy and terrible end, +as will be shown in a subsequent part of my narrative.</p> +<p>I felt quite at home, as if I had been at some vestry-meeting, or +some committee in the old country, when Elatreus got up. He was +stout, very bald, and had a way of thrusting his arm behind him, and +of humming and hawing, which vividly brought back to mind the oratory +of my native land. He had also, plainly enough, the trick of forgetting +what he intended to say, and of running off after new ideas, a trick +very uncommon among these natives, who are born public speakers. +I flattered myself that this orator was in favour of leniency towards +me, but nobody was paying much attention to him, when a shout was heard +from the bottom of the hill on which the square is built. Everybody +turned round, the elders jumped up with some alacrity for the sake of +a better view on the polished stones where they had been sitting, and +so much was the business before the meeting forgotten in the new excitement, +that I might have run away unnoticed, had there been anywhere to run +to. But flight was out of the question, unless I could get a boat +and some provisions, and I had neither. I was pleased, however, +to see that I was so lightly and laxly guarded.</p> +<p>The cause of the disturbance was soon apparent. A number of +brown, half-naked, sturdy sailors, with red caps, not unlike fezzes, +on their heads, appeared, bawling and making for the centre of the square. +They were apparently carrying or dragging some person with them, some +person who offered a good deal of resistance. Among the foreign +and unintelligible cries and howls which rang through the market-place, +my heart leaped up, in natural though unsanctified pleasure, as I heard +the too well-known but unexpected accents of British profanity.</p> +<p>“Where the (somewhere) are you blooming sons of beach-combers +dragging a Bri’sh shailor? Shtand off, you ragged set of +whitewashed Christy Minstrels, you! Where’s the Bri’sh +Conshul’s? Take me, you longshore sons of sharks, to the +Bri’sh Conshul’s! If there’s one white man among +you let him stand out and hit a chap his own weight.”</p> +<p>“Hullo!” suddenly cried the speaker, whom I had recognized +as William Bludger, one of the most depraved and regardless of the whole +wicked crew of the <i>Blackbird</i>,—“hullo, if here isn’t +old Captain Hymn-book!”—a foolish nickname the sailors had +given me.</p> +<p>He was obviously more than half-drunk, and carried in his hand a +black rum-bottle, probably (from all I knew of him) not nearly full. +His shirt and trousers were torn and dripping; apparently he had been +washed ashore, like myself, after the storm, and had been found and +brought into the town by some of the fishing population.</p> +<p>What a blow to all my hopes was the wholly unlooked-for arrival of +this tipsy, irreclaimable seaman, this unawakened Bill Bludger! +I had framed an ideal of what my own behaviour, in my trying circumstances, +ought to be. Often had I read how these islanders possess a tradition +that a wonderful white man, a being all sweetness and lucidity, landed +in their midst, taught them the knowledge of the arts, converted them +to peace and good manners, and at last mysteriously departed, promising +that he would return again. I had hopes—such things have +happened—that the islanders might take me for this wonderful white +man of their traditions, come back according to his promise. If +this delusion should occur, I would not at once undeceive them, but +take advantage of the situation, and so bring them all into the Bungletonian +fold. I knew there was no time to waste. Lutheran, French, +or Church of England schemers, in schooners, might even now be approaching +the island, with their erroneous and deplorable tenets. Again, +I had reckoned, if my hopes proved false, on attaining, not without +dignity, the crown of the proto-martyr of my Connection. Beyond +occasional confinement in police cells, consequent on the strategic +manœuvres of the Salvation Army, none of us had ever known what +it was to suffer in the cause. If I were to be the first to testify +with my blood, on this unknown soil, at least I could meet my doom with +dignity. In any case, I should be remembered, I had reckoned, +in the island traditions, either as an isolated and mysterious benefactor, +the child of an otherwise unknown race, or as a solitary martyr from +afar.</p> +<p>All these vain hopes of spiritual pride were now blown to the wind +by Bill Bludger’s unexpected appearance and characteristic conduct. +No delusions about a divine white stranger from afar could survive the +appearance and behaviour of so compromising an acquaintance as William. +He was one white stranger too many. There he was, still struggling, +shouting, swearing, smelling of rum, and making frantic attempts to +reach me and shake hands with me.</p> +<p>“Let bygones be bygones, Captain Hymn-book, your Reverence,” +he screamed; “here’s your jolly good health and song,” +and he put his horrible black bottle to his unchastened lips. +“Here we are, Captain, two Englishmen agin a lot o’ blooming +Kanekas; let’s clear out their whole blessed town, and steer for +Sydney.”</p> +<p>But, perceiving that I did not intend to recognize or carouse with +him, William Bludger now changed his tone; “Yah, you lily-livered +Bible-reader,” he exclaimed, “what are you going about in +<i>that</i> toggery for: copying Mr. Toole in <i>Paw Claudian</i>? +<i>You</i> call yourself a missionary? Jove, you’re more +like a blooming play hactor in a penny gaff! Easy, then, my hearties,” +he added, seeing that the fishermen were approaching him again, with +ropes in their hands. “Avast! stow your handcuffs.”</p> +<p>In spite of his oaths and struggles, the inebriated mariner was firmly +bound, hand and foot, and placed in the centre of the assembly. +I only wished that the natives had also gagged him, for his language, +though, of course, unintelligible to them, was profane, and highly painful +to me.</p> +<p>Before returning to business, the chiefs carefully inspected the +black bottle, of which they had dispossessed William Bludger. +A golden vase was produced—they had always plenty of <i>them</i> +handy—and the dark fluid was poured into this princely receptacle, +diffusing a strong odour of rum. Each chief carefully tasted the +stuff, and I was pained, on gathering, from the expression of their +countenances, that they obviously relished the “fire-water” +which has been the ruin of so many peoples in these beautiful but benighted +seas. However, there was not enough left to go round, and it was +manifestly unlikely that William Bludger had succeeded in conveying +larger supplies from the wreck.</p> +<p>The meeting now assumed its former air of earnestness, and it was +not hard to see that the arrival of my unhappy and degraded fellow-countryman +had introduced a new element into the debate. Man after man spoke, +and finally the chief rose, as I had little doubt, to sum up the discussion. +He pointed to myself, and to William Bludger alternately, and the words +which I had already noted, <i>Thargeelyah</i>, and <i>farmakoi</i>, +frequently recurred in his speech. His ideas seemed to meet with +general approval; even the old priest laid aside his sickle, and beat +applause with his hands. He next rose, and, taking two garlands +of beautiful flowers from the horns of the altar, placed one wreath +on the head of the drunken sailor, who had fallen asleep by this time. +He then drew near me, and I had little doubt that he meant to make me +also wear a garland, like some woman of rank and fashion at a giddy +secular entertainment. Whatever his motive might be I was determined +to wear nothing of the kind. But here some attendants grappled +and held me, my hat was lifted from my brows, and the circlet of blossoms +was carefully entwined all round my hat. The head-covering was +then replaced, the whole assembly, forming a circle, danced around me +and the unconscious Bludger, and, finally, the old priest, turning his +face alternately to me and to the sun, intoned a hymn, the audience +joining in at intervals.</p> +<p>My worst fears were, apparently, being realized. In spite of +the compromising appearance and conduct of Bludger, it seemed beyond +doubt that we were both regarded as, in some degree, divine and sacred. +Resistance on my part was, it will be seen, impossible. I could +not escape from the hands of my tormentors, and I was so wholly ignorant, +at that time, of their tongue, that I knew not how to disclaim the honours +thus blasphemously thrust upon me. I did my best, shouting, in +English, “I am no <i>Thargeelyah</i>. I am no <i>farmakos</i>” +supposing those words to be the native terms for one or other of their +gods. On this the whole assembly, even the gravest, burst out +laughing, each man poking his neighbour in the ribs, and uttering what +I took to be jests at my expense. Their behaviour in this juncture, +and frequently afterwards, when I attempted to make them tell me the +meaning of the unknown words, and of <i>catharma</i> (another expression +the chief had used), greatly perplexed me. I had afterwards too +good reason to estimate their dreadful lack of the ordinary feelings +of humanity at its true value.</p> +<p>However, nothing but laughter (most unfitting the occasion) could +be got out of the assembled natives. They now began to return +to their homes, and Bludger, crowned with flowers that became him but +ill, was carried off, not, as it seemed to me, without even a reverential +demeanour on the part of his escort. Those who surrounded me, +a kind of body-guard of six young men, had entirely recovered their +composure, and behaved to me with a deference that was astonishing, +but reassuring. From this time, I ought to say, though permitted +to go where I would, and allowed to observe even their most secret rites, +enjoying opportunities such as will never fall to another European, +I was never, but once, entirely alone. My worshippers, as they +might almost be called, so humble was their demeanour, still kept watchful +eyes upon me, as if I were a being so precious that they were jealous +of my every movement. It was now made plain to me, by signs, that +I must wait for some little space before being conveyed to my appointed +residence.</p> +<h3>VI. A BACKSLIDER. A WARNING.</h3> +<p>We had not remained long by ourselves in the square, when the most +extraordinary procession which I had ever beheld began to climb into +the open space from the town beneath. I do not know if I have +made it sufficiently clear that the square, on the crest of the isolated +hill above the sea, was occupied only by public buildings, such as the +temple, the house of the chief, and a large edifice used as a kind of +town hall, so to speak. The natives in general lived in much smaller +houses, many of them little better than huts, and divided by extremely +narrow and filthy streets, on the slopes, and along the shores of the +bay.</p> +<p>It was from these houses and from all the country round that the +procession, with persons who fell into its ranks as they came, was now +making its way. Almost all the parties concerned were young, boys +and girls, or very young men and women, and though their dress was much +scantier and less decent than what our ideas of delicacy require, it +must be admitted that the general aspect of the procession was far from +unpleasing. The clothes and wraps which the men and women wore +were of various gay colours, and were, in most cases, embroidered quite +skilfully with representations of flowers, fruits, wild beasts, and +individuals of grotesque appearance. Every one was crowned with +either flowers or feathers.</p> +<p>But, most remarkable of all, there was scarcely a person in this +large gathering who did not bring or lead some wild bird or beast. +The girls carried young wild doves, young rooks, or the nestlings of +such small fowls as sparrows and finches. It was a pretty sight +to see these poor uninstructed young women, flushed with the exertion +of climbing, and merry, flocking into the square, each with her pet +(as I supposed, but the tender mercies of the heathen are cruel) half +hidden in the folds of her gown. Of the young men, some carried +hawks, some chained eagles, some young vultures. Many were struggling, +too, with wild stags and wild goats, which they compelled with the utmost +difficulty to march in the ranks of the procession. A number of +young persons merely bore in their hands such fruits as were in season, +obviously fine specimens, of which they had reason to be proud.</p> +<p>Others, again, were carrying little young bears, all woolly, comfortable-looking +creatures, while the parent bears, adult bears at any rate, were brought +along, chained, in the rear. My guards, or adorers, or whatever +the young men who looked after me really were, led me forward, and made +signs to me that I was to bring up the rear of the procession—behind +the bears, which made no attempt (as in the case of the prophet) to +take the part of a Minister of the Bungletonian Connection. What +a position for one who would fain have been opening the eyes of this +darkened people to better things! But, till I had acquired some +knowledge of their language, I felt my only chance was to acquiesce +in everything not positively sinful. The entrance of a menagerie +and horticultural exhibition into the town—for thus I explained +to myself what was going on before my eyes—could not be severely +censured by the harshest critic, and I prepared to show my affability +by joining in an innocent diversion and popular entertainment.</p> +<p>Soon I found that, after all, I was not to be absolutely last in +the advance of this miscellaneous exhibition, nor were the intentions +of the people so harmless as I had imagined. This was no affair +of cottage window gardens, and a distribution of prizes.</p> +<p>The crowd which had collected in front of the chief’s house +opened suddenly, and, in the throng of people, I detected a movement +of excitement and alarm. Next I saw the horns of animals mixed +with the heads and shoulders of the multitude, and then an extraordinary +spectacle burst, at full speed, upon my gaze. Four great wild +stags, plunging, rearing, and kicking, rushed by, dragging a small vehicle +of unusual shape, in which stood, to my horror, the chief’s beautiful +daughter, Doto. The vehicle passed me like a flash of horns, in +spite of the attempts of four resolute men, who clung at the stags’ +heads to restrain the impetuosity of these coursers. The car, +I should explain—though I can hardly expect to be believed—was +not unlike the floor of a hansom cab, from which the seat, the roof, +the driver’s perch, and everything else should have been removed, +except the basis, the wheels, and the splashboard, the part on which +we generally find the advertisements of Messrs. Mappin and Webb. +On this floor, then, Doto stood erect, holding the reins; her yellow +hair had become unbound, and was floating like a flag behind her, and +her beautiful face, far from displaying any alarm, was flushed with +pleasure and pride. She was dressed in splendid and glittering +attire, over which was fastened—so strange were the manners of +these islanders—the newly-stripped skin of a great black bear. +Thus dragged by the wild deer, Doto passed like a flash through the +midst of the men and women, her stags being maddened to fresh excitement +by the sight and smell of the bears, and other wild animals. But, +eager as were the brutes that dragged the precarious carriage, they +were somewhat tamed by the great steepness of the ascent, up which they +bounded, to the heights at the back of the town. Up this path, +often narrow and excessively dangerous, we all took our way, and finally, +after passing through various perilous defiles and skirting many cliffs, +we arrived at a level space in front of an ancient temple of one of +their heathen gods. It was built like the others in the settlement +below, but the white stone had become brown and yellow with time and +weather, and the colours, chiefly red and blue, with which the graven +images, in contempt of the second commandment, were painted, had faded, +and grown very dim.</p> +<p>On the broad platform in front of this home of evil spirits had been +piled a great mound of turf, sloping very gradually and smoothly, like +the terrace of a well-kept lawn, to the summit, which itself was, perhaps, +a hundred feet in circumference. On this was erected a kind of +breastwork of trunks of trees, each tree some fifteen feet in length, +and in the centre of the circular breastwork was an altar, as usual, +under which blazed a fire of great fierceness. From the temple +came a very aged woman, dressed in bear skins, who carried a torch. +This torch she lit at the blaze under the altar, and a number of the +young men, lighting their torches at hers, set fire to the outer breastwork, +in which certain open spaces or entrances had been purposely left. +No sooner had the trees begun to catch fire, which they did slowly, +being of green wood, than the multitude outside, with the most horrible +and piercing outcries, began to drive the animals which they had brought +with them into the midst of the flames.</p> +<p>The spectacle was one of the most terrible I ever beheld, even among +this cruel and outlandish people, whose abominable inventions contrasted +so strangely with the mildness of their demeanour where their religion +was not concerned. It was pitiful to see the young birds, many +of them not yet able to fly, flutter into the flames and the stifling +smoke, and then fall, scorched, and twittering miserably. The +young lambs and other domesticated animals were forced in without much +resistance, but the great difficulty was to urge the wolves, antelopes, +and other wild creatures, into the blaze. The cries of the multitude, +who bounded about like maniacs, armed with clubs and torches, rose madly +over the strange unusual screams and howls uttered by the wild beasts +in their pain and terror. Ever and anon some animal would burst +through the crowd, perhaps half burned, and with its fur on fire, and +would be pursued to a certain distance, after which it was allowed to +escape by the sacrificers. As I was watching, with all my hopes +enlisted on its side, the efforts of an antelope to escape, I heard +a roar which was horrible even in that babel of abominable sights and +sounds.</p> +<p>A great black bear, its pelt one sheet of flame, its whole appearance +(if I may be permitted to say so) like that of a fiend from the pit, +forced its way through the throng, and, bounding madly to the spot where +Doto’s car stood at a little distance, rose erect on its hind +feet, and fixed its claws in the flank of one of the stags, the off-leader. +Instantly the team of stags, escaping from the hands of the strong men +who stood at their heads, plunged violently down the narrow and dangerous +path which led to the city. I shouted to Doto to leap out, but +she did not hear or did not understand me.</p> +<p>With a fixed look of horror on her white face, she dropped the useless +reins, and the vehicle passed out of sight round a corner of the cliff.</p> +<p>I had but a moment in which to reflect on what might be done to rescue +her. In that moment I providentially spied a double-edged axe +which lay beside me on the grass, having fallen from the hands of one +of the natives. Snatching up this weapon, I rushed to the edge +of the cliff, and looked down. It was almost a sheer precipice, +broken only by narrow shelves and clefts, on some of which grass grew, +while on others a slight mountain-ash or a young birch just managed +to find foothold.</p> +<p>Far, far beneath, hundreds of feet below, I could trace the windings +of the path up which we had climbed.</p> +<p>Instantly my plan was conceived. I would descend the cliff, +risking my life, of course, but that was now of small value in this +hopelessly heathen land, and endeavour to save the benighted Doto from +the destruction to which she was hastening. Her car must pass +along that portion of the path which lay, like a ribbon, in the depth +below me, unless, as seemed too probable, it chanced to be upset before +reaching the spot. To pursue it from behind was manifestly hopeless.</p> +<p>These thoughts flashed through my brain more rapidly than even the +flight of the maddened red deer; and scarcely less swiftly, I began +scrambling down the face of the cliff. It was really a series +of almost hopeless leaps to which I was committed, and the axe, to which +I clung, rather impeded than aided me as I let myself drop from one +rocky shelf to another, catching at the boughs and roots of trees to +break my fall. At last I reached the last ledge before the sheer +wall of rock, which hung above the path. As I let myself down, +feeling with my feet for any shelf or crack in the wall, I heard the +blare of the stags, and the rattle of the wheels. Half intentionally, +half against my will, I left my hold of a tree-root, and slid, bumping +and scratching myself terribly, down the slippery and slatey face of +the rocky wall, till I fell in a mass on the narrow road. In a +moment I was on my feet, the axe I had thrown in front of me, and I +grasped it instinctively as I rose. It was not too soon. +The deer were almost on me. Stepping to the side of the way, where +a rock gave some shelter, I dealt a blow at the nearest stag, under +which he reeled and fell to the ground, his companion stumbling over +him. In the mad group of rearing beasts I smote right and left +at the harness, which gave way beneath my strokes, and the unhurt stags +sped down the glen, and then rushed into separate corries of the hills. +The car was upset, and Doto lay pale and bleeding among the hoofs of +the stricken deer.</p> +<p>I dragged her out of the danger to the side of the path. I +felt her pulse, which still fluttered. I brought her, in my hat, +water from the stream; and, finally, had the pleasure of seeing her +return to life before the first of her friends came, wailing and lamenting, +and tearing their hair, down the path.</p> +<p>When they found the girl unwounded, though still weak and faint, +their joy knew no bounds, though I too plainly perceived that they were +returning thanks to the heathen goddess whose priestess Doto was. +As for me, they once more crowned me in the most elaborate, and, I think, +unbecoming manner, with purple pandanus flowers. Then, having +laid Doto on a litter, they returned in procession to the town, where +the girl was taken into the chiefs house. As we parted, she held +out her hand to me, but instantly withdrew it with a deep sigh. +I closely watched her. She was weeping. I had noticed before +that all the natives, as much as possible, avoided personal contact +with me. This fact, coupled with the reverence which they displayed +towards me, confirmed my impression that they regarded me as something +supernatural, not of this world, and divine.</p> +<p>To remove this belief was most certainly my duty, but how was it +to be done? Alas! I must now admit that I yielded to a subtle +temptation, and was led into conduct unworthy of a vessel. Sad +to say, as I search the rewards of my own heart, I am compelled to confess +that my real desire was not so much to undeceive the people—for +in their bewildering myriads of foolish beliefs one more or less was +of small importance—as to recommend myself to Doto. This +young woman, though not a member of our Connection, and wholly ignorant +of saving Truths, had begun to find favour in my eyes, and I hoped to +lead her to the altar; altars, for that matter, being plentiful enough +in this darkened land. I should have remembered the words once +spoken by a very gracious young woman, the daughter of a pious farmer. +“Mother,” said she, “I have made up my mind never +to let loose my affections upon any man as is not pious, and in good +circumstances.” Doto was, for an islander, in good circumstances, +but who, ah! who, could call her pious?</p> +<p>I endeavoured, it is true, to convert her, but, ah! did I go to work +in the right way? Did I draw, in awful colours, the certain consequences +of ignorance of the Truth? Did I endeavour to strike a salutary +terror into her heathen heart?</p> +<p>No; such would have been a proper course of conduct, but such was +not mine! I weakly adopted the opposite plan—that used by +the Jesuits in their dealings with the Chinese and other darkened peoples. +I attempted, meanly attempted (but, as may be guessed, with but limited +success), to give an orthodox Nonconformist character to the observances +of Doto’s religion. For example, instead of thundering, +as was my duty, at her worldly diversions of promiscuous dancing, and +ball play, I took a part in these secular pursuits, fondly persuading +myself that my presence discouraged levity, and was a check upon unseemly +mirth.</p> +<p>Thus, among the young native men and maidens, in the windings of +the mazy dance, might have been seen disporting himself, a person of +stalwart form, whose attire still somewhat faintly indicated his European +origin and sacred functions. A hymn-book in my hand instead of +a rattle (used by the natives), I capered gaily through their midst. +Often and often I led the music, instructing my festive flock in English +hymns, which, however, I adapted to gay and artless melodies, such as +“There’s some one in de house wid Dinah!” or “Old +Joe kicking up behind and afore!”</p> +<p>This kind of entertainment was entirely new to the natives, who heartily +preferred it to their own dull music, resembling what are called, I +believe, “Gregorians,” by a bloated and Erastian establishment.</p> +<p>So far, then, I may perchance trust that my efforts were not altogether +vain, and the seed thus sown may, in one or two cases, have fallen on +ground not absolutely stony. But, alas! I have little room +for hope.</p> +<p>I pursued my career of unblushing “economy”—as +the Jesuits say, meaning, alas! economy of plain truth speaking—and +of heathen dissipation. Few were the dances in which I did not +take a part, sinking so low as occasionally to oblige with a hornpipe. +My blue ribbon had long ago worn out, and with it my strict views on +Temperance. I acquired a liking for the strange drink of the islanders—a +thick wine and water, sometimes mixed with cheese and honey. In +fact, I was sliding back—like the unfortunate Fanti missionary, +John Greedy, M.A., whose case, as reported by precious Mr. Grant Allen, +so painfully moved serious circles—I was sliding back to the level +of the savagery around me. May these confessions be accepted in +the same spirit as they are offered; may it partly palliate my guilt +that I had apparently no chance of escape from the island, and no hope +beyond that of converting the natives and marrying Doto. I trusted +to do it, not (as of old) by open and fearless denunciation, but by +slowly winning hearts, in a secular and sportive capacity, before gaining +souls.</p> +<p>Even so have I seen young priests of the prelatical Establishment +aim at popularity by playing cricket with liberal coal-miners of sectarian +persuasions. They told me they were “in the mission field,” +and one observed that his favourite post in the field was third man. +I know not what he meant. But to return to the island.</p> +<p>My career of soul-destroying “amusement” (ah, how hollow!) +was not uninterrupted by warnings. Every now and again the mask +was raised, and I saw clearly the unspeakable horrors of heathen existence.</p> +<p>For example, in an earlier part of this narrative, I have mentioned +an old heathen called Elatreus, a good-natured, dull, absent-minded +man, who reminded me of a respectable British citizen. How awful +was <i>his</i> end, how trebly awful when I reflect how nearly I—but +let me not anticipate. Elatreus was the head, and eldest surviving +member of a family which had a singular history. I never could +make out what the story was, but, in consequence of some ancient crime, +the chief of the family was never allowed to enter the town hall. +The penalty, if he infringed the law, was terrible. Now it chanced +one day that I was wandering down the street, my hands full of rare +flowers which I had gathered for Doto, and with four young doves in +my hat. It was spring, and at that season the young persons of +the island expected to receive such gifts from their admirers. +I was also followed by eleven little fawns, which I had tamed for her, +and four young whelps of the bear. At the same time, in the lightness +of my foolish heart, I was singing a native song, all about one Lityerses, +to the tune of “Barbara Allen.”</p> +<p>At this moment, I observed, coming out of a side street, old Elatreus. +He was doddering along, his hands behind his back, and his nose in the +air, followed by a small but increasing crowd of the natives, who crept +stealthily behind at a considerable distance. I paused to watch +what was happening.</p> +<p>Elatreus entered the main street, and lounged along till he came +opposite the town hall, on which some repairs were being made. +The door stood wide open. He gazed at it, in a vacant but interested +way, and went up the steps, where he stood staring in an absent-minded, +vacant kind of fashion. I could see that the crowd watching him +from the corner of the side street was vastly excited.</p> +<p>Elatreus now passed his hand across his brow, seemed vastly puzzled, +and yawned. Then he slowly entered the town hall. With a +wild yell of savage triumph the mob rushed in after him, and in a few +moments came forth again, with Elatreus bound and manacled. Some +one sped away, and brought the old priest, who carried the sickle. +He appeared full of joy, and lustily intoned—for they have this +Popish custom of intoning—an unintelligible hymn. By this +time Elatreus had been wreathed and crowned with flowers, and the rude +multitude for this purpose seized the interesting orchids which I had +gathered for my Doto. They then dragged the old man, pitifully +lamenting, to the largest altar in the centre of the square.</p> +<p>Need I say what followed? The scene was too awful. With +a horrible expression of joy the priest laid the poor wretch on the +great stone altar, and with his keen sickle—but it is too horrible! +. . . This was the penalty for a harmless act, forbidden by a +senseless law, which Elatreus—a most respectable man for an idolater—had +broken in mere innocent absence of mind.</p> +<p>Alas! among such a people, how could I ever hope, alone and unaided, +to effect any truly regenerating work?</p> +<p>Yet I was not wholly discouraged; indeed, my <i>infatuation</i> for +Doto made me overlook much profligate behaviour that I do not care to +mention in a tract which may fall into the hands of the young. +One other example of the native barbarity, however, I must narrate.</p> +<p>A respected couple in the vicinity had long been childless. +At length their wishes were crowned with success, and a little baby +girl was born to them. But the priest, who had curious ideas of +his own, insisted on consulting, as to this child, a certain witch, +a woman who dwelt apart in a cave where there was a sulphurous hot-water +spring, surrounded by laurel bushes, regarded as sacred by the benighted +islanders. This spring, or the fumes that arose from it, was supposed +to confer on the dweller in the cave the gift of prophecy. She +was the servant of Apollon, and was credited with possessing a spirit +of divination. The woman, after undergoing, or simulating, an +epileptic attack, declared, in rhythmical language, that the babe must +not be allowed to live. She averred that it would “bring +destruction on Scheria,” the native name for the island, which +I have styled Boothland, in honour of the Salvation Army. This +was enough for the priests, who did not actually slay the infant, but +exposed it on the side of a mountain, where the beasts and birds were +likely to have their way with it.</p> +<p>Now it chanced that I had climbed the hill-top that day to watch +for a sail, for I never quite lost hope of being taken away by some +British or continental vessel. My attendants, for a wonder, were +all absent at some feast—Carneia, I think they called it—of +their heathen gods. The time was early summer; it only wanted +a fortnight of the date, as far as I could reckon, at which I had first +been cast on the island, a year before.</p> +<p>As I descended the hillside, pleased, I must own, by the warm blight +sunlight, the colour of the sea, and the smell of the aromatic herbs,—pleased, +and half forgetful of the horrid heathenism that surrounded me, I heard +a low wail as of an infant. I searched about, in surprise, and +came on a beautiful baby, in rich swaddling bands, with a gold signet +ring tied round its neck. Such an occurrence was not very unusual, +as the natives, like most savages, were in the habit of keeping down +the surplus population, by thus exposing their little ones. The +history of the island was full of legends of exposed children, picked +up by the charitable (there was, oddly enough, no prohibition against +this), and afterwards recognized and welcomed by their families. +As any Englishman would have done, I lifted the dear little thing in +my arms, and, a happy thought occurring to me, carried it off as a present +to Doto, who doted on babies, as all girls do. The gift proved +to be the most welcome that I had ever offered, though Doto, as usual, +would not accept it from my hands, but made me lay it down beside the +hearth, which they regarded as a sacred place. Even if an enemy +reached the hearth of his foe, he would, thenceforth, be quite safe +in his house. Doto then picked up the child, warmed and caressed +it, sent for milk for its entertainment, and was full of pleasure in +her new pet.</p> +<p>She was a dear good girl, Doto, in spite of her heathen training. +<a name="citation74"></a><a href="#footnote74">{74}</a></p> +<p>Strangely enough, as I thought at the time, she burst out weeping +when I took my leave of her, and seemed almost as if she had some secret +to impart to me. This, at least, showed an interest in me, and +I walked to my home with high presumptuous thoughts.</p> +<p>As I passed a certain group of rocks, in a lonely uncultivated district, +while the grey of evening was falling, I heard a low whistle. +The place had a bad reputation, being thought to be haunted. Perhaps +I had unconsciously imbibed some of the superstitions of the natives, +for I started in alarm.</p> +<p>Then I heard an unmistakably British voice cry, in a suppressed tone, +“Hi!”</p> +<p>The underwood rustled, and I beheld, to my astonishment, the form, +the crawling and abject form, of William Bludger!</p> +<p>Since the day of his landing we had never once met, William having +been sent off to a distant part of the island.</p> +<p>“Hi!” he said again, and when I exclaimed, naturally, +“Hullo!” he put his finger on his lips, and beckoned to +me to join him. This I did, and found that he was lurking in a +cavern under the group of grey weather-worn stones.</p> +<p>When I entered the cave, Bludger fell a-trembling so violently that +he could not speak. He seemed in the utmost alarm, his face quite +ashen with terror.</p> +<p>“What is the matter, William Bludger?” I asked; “have +you had a Call, or why do you thrust yourself on me?”</p> +<p>“Have <i>you</i> sich a thing as a chaw about ye?” he +asked in tremulous accents. “I’m <i>that</i> done; +never a drop has passed my lips for three days, strike me dead; and +I’d give anything for a chaw o’ tobacco. A sup of +drink you have <i>not</i> got, Capt’n Hymn-book, axing your pardon +for the liberty?”</p> +<p>“William,” I said, “even in this benighted island, +you set a pitiful example. You have been drinking, sir; you are +reaping what you have sown; and only temperance, strict, undeviating +total abstinence rather, can restore your health.”</p> +<p>“So help me!” cried the wretched man, “except a +drop of Pramneian <a name="citation76"></a><a href="#footnote76">{76}</a> +I took, the morning I cut and run,—and that was three days ago,—nothing +stronger than castor-oil berries have crossed my lips. It ain’t +that, sir; it ain’t the drink. It’s—it’s +the <i>Thargeelyah</i>. Next week, sir, they are going to roast +us—you and me—flog us first, and roast us after. Oh +Lord! Oh Lord!”</p> +<h3>VII. FLIGHT.</h3> +<p>“Flog us first, and roast us afterwards.” I repeated +mechanically the words of William Bludger. “Why, you must +be mad; they are more likely to fall down and worship us,—<i>me</i> +at any rate.”</p> +<p>“No, Capt’n,” replied William; “that’s +your mistake. They say we’re both <i>Catharmata</i>; that’s +what they call us; and you’re no better than me.”</p> +<p>“And what are <i>Catharmata</i>?” I inquired, remembering +that this word, or something like it, had been constantly used by the +natives in my hearing.</p> +<p>“Well, Capt’n, it means, first and foremost, just the +off-scourings of creation, the very dust and sweepings of the shop,” +answered Bludger, who had somehow regained his confidence. To +have a fellow-sufferer, and to see the pallor which, doubtless, overspread +my features, was a source of comfort to this hardened man. At +the same time I confess that, if William Bludger alone had been destined +to suffer, I could have contemplated the decree with Christian resignation.</p> +<p>“I speak the beggars’ patter pretty well now,” +Bludger went on; “and I see <i>Catharmata</i> means more than +just mere dirt. It means two unlucky devils.”</p> +<p>“William?” I exclaimed.</p> +<p>“It means, saving your presence, two poor coves, as has no +luck, like you and me, and that can be got rid of once a year, at an +entertainment they call the <i>Thargeelyah</i>, I dunno why, a kind +o’ friendly lead. They choose fellows as either behaves +ill, or has no friends to make a fuss about them, and they gives them +three dozen, or more, and takes them down to the beach, and burns them +alive over a slow fire. And then they toss the ashes out to sea, +and think all the bad luck goes away with the tide. Oh, I never +was in such a hole as this!”</p> +<p>Bludger’s words made me shudder. I had never forgotten +the hideous sacrifice, doubtless the <i>Thargeelyah</i>, as they called +it, that greeted me when I was first cast ashore on the island. +To think that I had only been saved that I might figure as a victim +of some of their heathen gods!</p> +<p>Oh, now the thought came back to me with a bitter repentance, that +if I had only converted all the islanders, they would never have dreamed +of sacrificing me in honour of a mere idol! Why had I been so +lukewarm, why had I backslidden, why had I endeavoured to make myself +agreeable by joining in promiscuous dances, when I should have been +thundering against Pagan idolatry, holy water, idols, sacrifices and +the whole abominable system of life on the island? True, I might +have goaded them into slaying me; I might have suffered as a martyr; +but, at the least, I would have deserved the martyr’s crown. +And now I was to perish at the stake, without even the precious consolation +of being a real martyr, and was to be flogged into the bargain.</p> +<p>I gave a hollow groan as these reflections passed through my mind, +and this appeared to afford William Bludger some consolation.</p> +<p>“You don’t seem to like it yourself, Capt’n; what’s +your advice? We’re both in the same boat; leastways I wish +we <i>were</i> in a boat; anyhow we’re both in the same hole.”</p> +<p>There was no denying this, and it was high time to mature some plan +of escape. Already I must have been missed by my attendants, my +gaolers rather, who would have returned from their festival, and would +be looking for me everywhere.</p> +<p>I bitterly turned over in my mind the facts of our situation; “ours,” +for, as a just punishment of my remissness, I was in the same quandary +as a drunken, dissipated sailor before the mast.</p> +<p>If William had but possessed a sweet and tuneful voice (often a gift +found in the most depraved natures), and if I had been able to borrow +a harmonium on wheels, I would not, even now, have despaired of converting +the whole island in the course of the week. As remarkable feats +have been performed, with equal alacrity, by precious Messrs. Moody +and Sankey, and I am informed that expeditious conversions are by no +means infrequent among politicians. But it was vain to think of +this resource, as William had no voice, and knew no hymns, while I had +no means of access to a perambulating harmonium.</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you what it is, sir,” said Bludger; +“I have a notion.”</p> +<p>“Name it, William,” I replied, my heart and manner softened +by community in suffering and terror.</p> +<p>“Well, if I were you, sir, I would not go home to-night at +all; I’d stop where you are. The beggars won’t find +you, let them hunt as they like; they daren’t come near this place, +bless you, it’s an ’Arnt;” by which he meant that +it was haunted.</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “but how should we be any better +off to-morrow morning?”</p> +<p>“That’s just it, sir,” said Bludger. “We’ll +be up with the first stroke of dawn, nip down to the harbour, get on +board a boat, and be off before any of them are stirring.”</p> +<p>“But, even if we manage to secure a boat,” I said, “what +about provisions, and where are we to sail for?”</p> +<p>“Oh, never mind that,” said Bill; “we can’t +be worse off than we are, and I’ll slip out to-night, and lay +in some prog in the town. Also some grog, if I can lay my hands +on it,” he added, with an unholy smile.</p> +<p>“No, William,” I murmured; “no grog; our lives +depend on our sobriety.”</p> +<p>“Always a-preaching, the old tub-thumper,” I heard William +say to himself; but he made no further reference to the subject.</p> +<p>It was now quite dark, and we lay whispering, in the damp hollow +under the great stone. Our plan was to crawl away at the first +blush of dawn, when men generally sleep most soundly; that William should +enter one of the unguarded houses (for these people never stole, and +did not know the meaning of the word “thief”), that he should +help himself to provisions, and that meanwhile I should have a boat +ready to start in the harbour.</p> +<p>This larcenous but inevitable programme we carried out, after waiting +through dreadful hours of cold and shivering anxiety. Every cry +of a night bird from the marsh or the wood sent my heart into my mouth. +I felt inconceivably mean and remorseful, my vanity having received +a dreadful shock from the discovery that, far from being a god, I was +to be a kind of burnt-offering.</p> +<p>At last the east grew faintly grey, and we started, not keeping together, +but Bludger marching cautiously in my rear, at a considerable distance. +We only met one person, a dissipated young man, who, I greatly fear, +had been paying his court to a shepherdess in the hills. When +he shouted a challenge, I replied, <i>Erastes eimi</i>, which means, +I am sorry to say, “I am a lover,” and implied that I, also, +had been engaged in low intrigue. “Farewell, with good fortune,” +he replied, and went on his way, singing some catch about Amaryllis, +who, I presume, was the object of his unhallowed attentions.</p> +<p>We slipped into the silent town, unwalled and unguarded as it was, +for as one of their own poets had said, “We dwell by the wash +of the waves, far off from toilsome men, and with us are no folk conversant.” +They were a race that knew war only by a vague tradition, that they +had dwelt, at some former age, in an island, perhaps New Zealand, where +they were subject to constant annoyance from Giants,—a likely +story. Thence they had migrated to their present home, where only +one white man had ever been cast away—one Odysseus, so their traditions +declared—before our arrival. Him, however, they had treated +hospitably, very unlike their contemplated behaviour to Bludger and +me.</p> +<p>I am obliged to make this historical digression that the reader may +understand how it happened, under Providence, that we were not detected +in passing through the town, and how Bludger successfully accomplished +what, I fear, was by no means his first burglary.</p> +<p>We parted at the chief’s house, Bill to secure provisions, +and I to unmoor a boat, and bring her round to a lonely bay on the coast, +where my companion was to join me.</p> +<p>I accomplished my task without the slightest difficulty, selected +a light craft,—they did not use canoes, but rowed boats like coracles,—and +was lying at anchor, moored with a heavy stone, in the bay.</p> +<p>The dawn was now breaking in the most beautiful colours—gold, +purple, crimson, and green—across the sea. All nature was +still, save for the first pipe of awakening birds.</p> +<p>There was a delicate fragrance in the air, which was at once soft +and keen, and, as I watched the red sunlight on the high cliffs, and +on the smooth trunks of the palm trees, I felt, strange to say, a kind +of reluctance to leave the island.</p> +<p>The people, apart from their cruel and abominable religion, were +the gentlest and most peaceful I have ever known. They were beautiful +to look upon, so finely made and shapely that I have never seen their +like. Their language was exquisitely sweet and melodious, and +though, except hymns, I do not care for poetry, yet I must admit that +some of their compositions in verse were extremely pleasing, though +they were ignorant of the art of rhyme. All about them was beautifully +made, and they were ignorant of poverty. I never saw a beggar +on the island; and Christians, unhappily, do not share their goods with +each other, and with the poor, so freely as did these benighted heathens. +Often have I laboured to make them understand what our Pauper Question +means, but they could not comprehend me.</p> +<p>“How can a man lack home, and food, and fire?” they would +say; “do people not love each other in your country?”</p> +<p>I explained that we love each other <i>as Christians</i>, but this +did not seem to enlighten their benighted minds. On the other +hand, it is true that they settle their population question by strangling +or exposing the majority of their infant daughters.</p> +<p>Rocked on the smooth green swell of the sea, beneath the white rocks, +I was brooding over these and many other matters, when I heard sudden +and violent movements in the deep vegetation on the hillside. +The laurel groves were stirred, and Bill Bludger, with a basket in his +hand, bounded down the slope, and swam for dear life to the boat.</p> +<p>“They’re after me,” he cried; and at that moment +an arrow quivered in the side of the boat.</p> +<p>I helped William on board as well as I might, under a shower of arrows +from the hill-top, most of which, owing to the distance, were ill directed +and fell short, or went wide.</p> +<p>Into the boat, at last, I got him, and thrusting an oar in his direction, +I said, “Pull for your life,” and began rowing. To +my horror, the boat made no way, but kept spinning round. A glance +in the bow showed me what was the matter: <i>William Bludger was hopelessly +intoxicated</i>! He had got at the jars of wine in the chief’s +cellar,—<i>thalamos</i>, they call it,—and had not taken +the precaution of mixing the liquor with water, as the natives invariably +do when they drink. The excitement of running had sent the alcoholic +fumes direct to his brain, and now he lay, a useless and embarrassing +cargo, in the bows. Meanwhile, the shouts of the natives rang +nearer and louder, and I knew that boats would soon be launched for +our capture. I thought of throwing Bludger overboard, and sculling, +but determined not to stain what might be my last moments with an act +of selfishness. I therefore pulled hard for the open sea, but +to no avail. On every side boats crowded round me, and I should +probably have been shot, or speared, but for the old priest, who, erect +in the bows of the largest vessel, kept yelling that we were to be taken +alive.</p> +<p>Alas! I well knew the secret of his cruel mercies.</p> +<p>He meant to reserve us for the sacrifice.</p> +<h3>VIII. SAVED!</h3> +<p>Why should I linger over the sufferings of the miserable week that +followed our capture? Hauled back to my former home, I was again +made the object of the mocking reverence of my captors. Ah, how +often, in my reckless youth, have my serious aunts warned me that I +“would be a goat at the last”! Too true, too true; +now I was to be a scapegoat, to be driven forth, as these ignorant and +strangely perverted people believed, with the sins of the community +on my head, those sins which would, according to their <i>miserable +superstition</i>, be expiated by the death, and consumed away by the +burning, of myself and William Bludger!</p> +<p>The week went by, as all weeks must, and at length came the solemn +day which they call <i>Thargeelyah</i>, the day more sacred than any +other to their idol, Apollon. Long before sunrise the natives +were astir; indeed, I do not think they went to bed at all, but spent +the night in hideous orgies. I know that, tossing sleepless through +the weary hours, I heard the voices of young men and women singing on +the hillsides, and among the myrtle groves which are holy to the most +disreputable of their deities, a female, named <i>Aphrodighty</i>. +Harps were twanging too, and I heard the refrain of one of the native +songs, “To-night they love who never loved before; to-night let +him who loves love all the more.” The words have unconsciously +arranged themselves, even in English, as poetry; those who know Thomas +Gowles best, best know how unlikely it is that he would willingly dabble +in the worldly art of verse-fashioning. Think of my reflections +with a painful, shameful, and, above all, <i>undeserved</i> death before +me, while all the fragrant air was ringing with lascivious merriment. +My impression is that, as all the sins of the year were, in their opinion, +to be got rid of next day, and tossed into the sea with the ashes of +Bludger and myself, the natives had made up their minds—an eligible +opportunity now presenting itself—to be <i>as wicked as they knew +how</i>. Alas! though I have not dwelt on this painful aspect +of their character, they “knew how” only too well.</p> +<p>The sun rose at last, and flooded the island, when I perceived that, +from every side, crowds of revellers were pressing together to the place +where I lay in fetters. They had a wild, dissipated air, flowers +were wreathed and twisted in their wet and dewy locks, which floated +on the morning wind. Many of the young men were merely dressed—if +“dressed” it could be called—in the skins of leopards, +panthers, bears, goats, and deer, tossed over their shoulders. +In their hands they all held wet, dripping branches of fragrant trees, +many of them tipped with pine cones, and wreathed with tendrils of the +vine. Others carried switches, of which I divined the use only +too clearly, and the women were waving over their heads tame serpents, +which writhed and wriggled hideously. It was an awful spectacle!</p> +<p>I was dragged forth by these revellers; many of them were intoxicated, +and, in a moment—I blush even now to think of it—I was stripped +naked! Nothing was left to me but my hat and spectacles, which, +for some religious reason I presume, I was, fortunately, allowed to +retain. Then I was driven with blows, which hurt a great deal, +into the market-place, and up to the great altar, where William Bludger, +also naked, was lying more dead than alive.</p> +<p>“William,” I said solemnly, “what cheer?” +He did not answer me. Even in that supreme moment it was not difficult +to discern that William had been looking on the wine when it was red, +and had not confined himself to mere ocular observation. I tried +to make him remember he was an Englishman, that the honour of our country +was in our hands, and that we should die with the courage and dignity +befitting our race. These were strange consolations and exhortations +for <i>me</i> to offer in such an extremity, but, now it had come to +the last pass, it is curious what mere worldly thoughts hurried through +my mind.</p> +<p>My words were wasted: the natives seized William and forced him to +his feet. Then, while a hymn was sung, they put chains of black +and white figs round our necks, and thrust into our hands pieces of +cheese, figs, and certain peculiar herbs. This formed part of +what may well be called the “Ritual” of this cruel race. +May Ritualists heed my words, and turn from the errors of their ways!</p> +<p>Too well I knew all that now awaited us. All that I had seen +and shuddered at, on the day of my landing on the island, was now practised +on self and partner. We had to tread the long paved way to the +distant cove at the river’s mouth; we had to endure the lashes +from the switches of wild fig. The priestess, carrying the wooden +idol, walked hard by us, and cried out, whenever the blows fell fewer +or lighter, that the idol was waxing too heavy for her to bear. +Then they redoubled their cruelties.</p> +<p>It was a wonderfully lovely day. In the blue heaven there was +not a cloud. We had reached the river’s mouth, and were +fast approaching the stakes that had already been fixed in the sands +for our execution; nay, the piles of green wood were already being heaped +up by the young men. There was, there could be, no hope, and, +weary and wounded, I almost welcomed the prospect of death, however +cruel.</p> +<p>Suddenly the blows ceased to shower on me, and I heard a cry from +the lips of the old priest, and, turning about, I saw that the eyes +of all the assembled multitude were fixed on a point on the horizon.</p> +<p>Looking automatically in the direction towards which they were gazing, +I beheld—oh joy, oh wonder!—I beheld a long trail of cloud +floating level with the sea! It was the smoke of a steamer!</p> +<p>“Too late, too late,” I thought, and bitterly reflected +that, had the vessel appeared but an hour earlier, the attention of +my cruel captors might have been diverted to such a spectacle as they +had never seen before.</p> +<p>But it was <i>not</i> too late.</p> +<p>Perched on a little hillock, and straining his gaze to the south, +the old priest was speaking loudly and excitedly. The crowd deserted +us, and gathered about him.</p> +<p>I threw myself on the sand, weary, hopeless, parched with thirst, +and racked with pain. Bludger was already lying in a crumpled +mass at my feet. I think he had fainted.</p> +<p>I retained consciousness, but that was all. The fierceness +of the sun beat upon me, the sky and sea and shore swam before me in +a mist. Presently I heard the voice of the priest, raised in the +cadences which he favoured when he was reading texts out of their sacred +books, if books they could be called. I looked at him with a faint +curiosity, and perceived that he held in his hands the wooden casket, +adorned with strangely carved bands of gold and ivory, which I had seen +on the night of my arrival on the island.</p> +<p>From this he had selected the old grey scraps of metal, scratched, +as I was well aware, with what they conceived to be ancient prophecies.</p> +<p>I was now sufficiently acquainted with the language to understand +the verses which he was chanting, and which I had already heard, without +comprehending them. They ran thus in English:</p> +<p>“But when a man, having a chimney pot on his head, and four +eyes, appears in Scheria, and when a ship without sails also comes, +sailing without wind, and breathing smoke, then shall destruction fall +on the island.”</p> +<p>He had not ended when it was plain, even to those ignorant people, +that the prophecy was about to be fulfilled. From the long, narrow, +black line of the steamer, which had approached us with astonishing +speed, “sailing without wind, and breathing smoke,” there +burst six flashes of fire, followed by a peal like thunder, and six +tall fountains, as the natives fancied, of sea-water rose and fell in +the bay, where the shells had lighted.</p> +<p>It was plain that the commander of the vessel, finding himself in +unknown seas, and hard by an unvisited country, was determined to strike +terror and command respect by this salute.</p> +<p>The noise of the broadside had scarcely died away, when the natives +fled, disappeared like magic, leaving many of their garments behind +them.</p> +<p>They were making for their town, which was concealed from the view +of the rapidly nearing steamer. From her mast I could now see, +flaunting the slight breeze, the dear old Union Jack, and the banner +of the Salvation Navy! <a name="citation95"></a><a href="#footnote95">{95}</a></p> +<p>My resolution was taken in a moment. Bludger had now recovered +consciousness, and was picking up heart. I thrust into his hands +one of the branches with which we had been flogged, fastened to it a +cloak of one of the natives, bade him keep waving it from a rocky promontory, +and, rushing down to the sea, I leaped in, and swam with all my strength +towards the vessel. Weak as I was, my new hopes gave me strength, +and presently, from the crest of a wave, I saw that the people of the +steamer were lowering a boat, and rowing towards me.</p> +<p>In a few minutes they had reached me, my countrymen’s hands +were in mine. They dragged me on board; they pulled back to their +vessel; and I stood, entirely undressed, on the deck of a British ship!</p> +<p>So long had I lived among people heedless of modesty that I was rushing, +with open arms, towards the officer on the quarter-deck, who was dressed +as a bishop, when I heard a scream of horror. I turned round in +time to see the bishop’s wife fleeing precipitately to the cabin, +and driving her children and governess in front of her.</p> +<p>Then all the horror of the situation flooded my heart and brain, +and I fell fainting on the quarter-deck.</p> +<p>When I recovered my consciousness, I found myself plainly but comfortably +dressed in the ordinary costume, except the hat, which lay beside me, +of a dean in the Church of England. My wounds had been carefully +attended to, William Bludger had been taken on board, and I was surrounded +by the kind faces of my benefactors, including the bishop’s consort. +My apologies for my somewhat sudden and unceremonious intrusion were +cut short by the arrival of tea and a slight collation suitable for +an invalid. In an hour I was walking the quarter-deck with the +bishop in command of the <i>William Wilberforce</i>, armed steam yacht, +of North Shields, fitted out for the purposes of the Salvation Navy. +From the worthy prelate in command of the <i>William Wilberforce</i>, +I learned much concerning his own past career and the nature of his +enterprise, as I directed the navigation of the vessel through the shoals +and reefs which lay about the harbour of the island.</p> +<p>The bishop (a purely brevet title) would refresh his memory, now +and then, from a penny biography of himself with which he was provided, +and the following, in brief, is a record of his life and adventures:—</p> +<p>Thomas Sloggins (that was his name), from his earliest infancy, had +been possessed with a passion for <i>doing good to others</i>, a passion, +alas! but too rarely reciprocated. I pass over many affecting +details of his adventures as a ministering child: how he endeavoured +to win his father from tobacco by breaking his favourite pipes; how +he strove to wean his elder brother from cruel field-sports, by stuffing +the joints of his fishing-rod with gravel; with many other touching +incidents.</p> +<p>Being almost entirely uneducated, young Sloggins, when he reached +man’s estate, conceived that he would most benefit his fellow-creatures +by combining the professions of the pulpit and the press—by preaching +on Sundays and at odd times, while he acted as outdoor reporter to <i>The +Rowdy Puritan</i> on every lawful day. Being a man of great earnestness +and enterprise, he soon rose in the ranks of the Salvation Navy; and +at one time commanded an evangelical barge on the benighted canals of +our country. Finally, he made England almost too hot to hold him, +by the original forms of his benevolence, while, at the same time, he +acquired the utmost esteem and confidence of many wealthy philanthropists +and excellent, if impulsive, ladies. These good people provided +him with that well-equipped and armed steam yacht, the <i>William Wilberforce</i>, +which he manned with a crew of converted characters (they certainly +looked as if they must have needed a great deal of converting), and +he had now for months been cruising in the South Pacific. A local +cyclone had driven the <i>William Wilberforce</i> out of her reckoning, +and hence the appearance of that vessel in the very nick of time to +achieve my rescue.</p> +<p>When the bishop had finished his story, I briefly recapitulated to +him my own adventures, and we agreed that the conversion of the island +must be our earliest task. To begin with, we steered into the +harbour, where a vast multitude of the natives were assembled in arms, +and awaited our approach with a threatening demeanour. Our landing +was opposed, but a few well-directed volleys from a Gardiner gun (which +did not jam) caused the hostile force to disperse, and we landed in +great state. Marching on the chief’s house, we were received +with an abject submission that I had scarcely expected. The people +were absolutely cowed, more by the fulfilment of the prophecy, I think, +than even by the execution done by our Gardiner machine gun. At +the bishop’s request, I delivered a harangue in the native tongue, +declaring that we only required the British flag to be hoisted on the +palace, and the immediate disendowment of the heathen church as in those +parts established. I was listened to in uneasy silence; but my +demand for lodgings in the palace was acceded to; and, in a few hours, +the bishop, with his wife and children, were sumptuously housed under +the roof of the chief. The ladies of the chief’s family +showed great curiosity in watching and endeavouring to converse with +our friends. I was amused to see how soon the light-hearted islanders +appeared to forget their troubles and apprehensions. Doto, in +particular, became quite devoted to the prelate’s elder daughter +(the youngest of the bishop’s family was suffering from measles), +and would never be out of her company. Thus all seemed to fare +merrily; presents were brought to us—flowers, fruit, the feathers +of rare birds, and ornaments of native gold were literally showered +upon the ladies of the party. The chief promised to call a meeting +of his counsellors on the morrow, and all seemed going on well, when, +alas! measles broke out in the palace. The infant whom I had presented +to Doto—the infant whom I had found on the mountain side—was +the first sufferer. Then Doto caught the disease herself, then +her mother, then the chief. In vain we attempted to nurse and +tend them; in vain we expended the contents of the ship’s medicine +chest on the invalids. The malady having, as it were, an entirely +new field to work upon, raged like the most awful pestilence. +Through all ranks of the people it spread like wild-fire; many died, +none could be induced to take the most ordinary precautions. The +natives became, as it were, mad under the torments of fever and the +burning heat of the unaccustomed malady; they rushed about, quite unclad, +for the sake of the deceptive coolness, and hundreds of them cast themselves +into the sea and into the river.</p> +<p>It was my sad lot to see my dear Doto die—the first of the +sufferers in the palace to succumb to the disease. Meanwhile, +the bishop and myself being entirely absorbed in attendance on the sick, +the crew of the <i>William Wilberforce</i>, I deeply regret to say, +escaped from all restraint, and forgot what was due to themselves and +their profession. They revelled with the most abandoned of the +natives, and disease and drink ravaged the once peaceful island. +Every sign of government and order vanished. The old priest built +a huge pile of firewood, and laying himself there with the images of +the gods, set fire to the whole, and perished with his own false religion.</p> +<p>After this event, the island ceased to be a safe residence for ourselves. +Among the mountains, as I learned, where the pestilence had not yet +penetrated, the shepherds and the wilder tribes were gathering in arms. +One night we stole on board the <i>William Wilberforce</i>, leaving +the city desolate, filled with the smoke of funeral pyres, and the wailing +of men and women. There was a dreadful sultry stillness in the +air, and all day long wild beasts had been dashing madly into the sea, +and the sky had been obscured by flights of birds. On all the +crests of the circle of surrounding hills we saw, in the growing darkness, +the beacons and camp fires of the insurgents from the interior. +Just before the dawn the <i>William Wilberforce</i> was attacked by +the whole mass of the natives in boats and rafts. But we had not +been unprepared for this movement, nor were the resources of science +unequal to the occasion. We had surrounded the <i>William Wilberforce</i> +with a belt, or cordon, of torpedoes, and as each of the assaulting +boats touched the boom, a terrible explosion shook the water into fountains +of foam, and the waves were strewn with scalded, wounded, and mutilated +men. Meanwhile, we bombarded the city and the harbour, and the +night passed amid the most awful sounds and sights—fire, smoke, +yells of anger and pain, cries of the native leaders encouraging their +men, and shouts from our own people, who had to repel the boarders, +when the boom was at last forced, with pikes and cutlasses. Just +before the dawn a strange thing happened. A great glowing coal, +as it seemed, fell with a hissing crash on the deck of the <i>William +Wilberforce</i>, and others dropped, with a strange sound and a dreadful +odour of burning, in the water all around us. Had the natives +discovered some mode of retaliating on our use of firearms?</p> +<p>I looked in the direction of their burning city, and beheld, on the +sharp peak of the highest mountain (now visible in the grey morning +light), an object like a gigantic pine-tree of fire. The blazing +trunk rose, slim and straight, from the mountain crest, and, at a vast +height, developed a wilderness of burning branches. Fearful hollow +sounds came from the hill, its sides were seamed with racing cataracts +of living lava, of coursing and leaping flames, which rolled down with +incredible swiftness and speed towards the doomed city. Then the +waters of the harbour were smitten and shaken, and the <i>William Wilberforce</i> +rocked and heaved as in the most appalling storm, though all the winds +were silent, while a mighty wave swept far inland towards the streams +of fire. There was no room for doubt; a volcanic eruption was +occurring, and a submarine earthquake, as not uncommonly happens, had +also taken place. Our only hope was in immediate flight. +Presently steam was got up, and we steamed away into the light of the +glowing east, leaving behind us only a burning island, and a fire like +an ugly dawn flaring in the western sky.</p> +<p>When we returned in the evening, Boothland—as I may now indeed +call it, for Scheria has ceased to be—was one black smoking cinder.</p> +<p>Hardly a tree or a recognizable rock remained to show that this had +once been a peaceful home of men. The oracle, or prophecy of the +old priest, had been horribly, though, of course, quite accidentally, +fulfilled.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>Little remains to be told. On my return home, I chanced to +visit the British Museum, and there, much to my surprise, observed an +old piece of stone, chipped with the characters, or letters, in use +among the natives of Scheria.</p> +<p>“Why,” said I, reading the words aloud, “these +are the characters which the natives employed on my island.”</p> +<p>“These?” said the worthy official who accompanied me. +“Why, these are the most archaic Greek letters which have yet +been discovered: inscriptions from beneath the lava beds of Santorin.”</p> +<p>“I can’t help that,” I said. “The Polynesians +used them too; and you see I can read them easily, though I don’t +know Greek.”</p> +<p>I then told him the whole story of my connection with the island, +and of the unfortunate results of the contact between these poor people +and our superior modern civilization.</p> +<p>I have rarely seen a man more affected by any recital than was the +head of the classical department of the Museum by my artless narrative. +When I described the sacrifice I saw on landing in the island, he exclaimed, +“Great Heavens! the Attic Thargelia.” He grew more +and more excited as I went on, and producing a Greek book, “Pausanias,” +he showed me that the sacrifice of wild beasts was practised sixteen +hundred years ago in honour of Artemis Elaphria. The killing of +old Elatreus for entering the town hall reminded him of a custom in +Achæa Pthiotis. When I had finished my tale, he burst out +into violent and libellous language. “You have destroyed,” +he said, “with your miserable modern measles and Gardiner guns, +the last remaining city of the ancient Greeks. The winds cast +you on the shore of Phæacia, the island sung by Homer; and, in +your brutal ignorance, you never knew it. You have ruined a happy, +harmless, and peaceful people, and deprived archæology of an opportunity +that can never, never return!”</p> +<p>I do not know about archæology, but as for “harmless +and peaceful people,” I leave it to my readers to say whether +the islanders were anything of the sort.</p> +<p>I learn that the Government has just refused to give the Museum a +grant of five thousand pounds to be employed in what are called “Excavations +in Ancient Phæacia,” diggings, that is, in Boothland.</p> +<p>With so many darkened people still ignorant of our enlightened civilization, +I think the grant would be a shameful waste of public money. <a name="citation106"></a><a href="#footnote106">{106}</a></p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>We publish the original text of the prophecy repeatedly alluded to +by Mr. Gowles. The learned say that no equivalent occurs for the +line about his “four eyes,” and it is insinuated, in a literary +journal of eminence, that Mr. Gowles pilfered the notion from Good’s +glass eye, in a secular romance, called <i>King Solomon’s Mines</i>, +which Mr. Gowles, we are sure, never heard of in his life.—ED.</p> +<p>THE PROPHECY.</p> +<blockquote><p>’Αλλ’ οτε +καπνοδοχον τις +εχων περι κραατος +αυλον<br /> +και νηυς πυριπεμπτος +ατερ πτερυyων +ανεμωκεων<br /> +ιξεται εις ’Απιην +χερσον δια λαιτμα +θαλασσης,<br /> +δη τοτε πουλυβοτειραν +επι χθονα λοιμος +ικανει<br /> +ξυν δε τε τω πτολεμος, +τοτε δη θεοι +εκλειψουσιν<br /> +εξ εδρανων, τατ’ +ολειται αιστωθεντα +κατ’ ακρης.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>IN THE WRONG PARADISE<br /> +AN OCCIDENTAL APOLOGUE.</h2> +<p>In the drawing-room, or, as it is more correctly called, the “dormitory,” +of my club, I had been reading a volume named “Sur l’Humanité +Posthume,” by M. D’Assier, a French follower of Comte. +The mixture of positivism and ghost-stories highly diverted me. +Moved by the sagacity and pertinence of M. D’Assier’s arguments +for a limited and fortuitous immortality, I fell into such an uncontrollable +fit of laughter as caused, I could see, first annoyance and then anxiety +in those members of my club whom my explosion of mirth had awakened. +As I still chuckled and screamed, it appeared to me that the noise I +made gradually grew fainter and more distant, seeming to resound in +some vast empty space, even more funereal and melancholy than the dormitory +of my club, the “Tepidarium.” It has happened to most +people to laugh themselves awake out of a dream, and every one who has +done so must remember the ghastly, hollow, and maniacal sound of his +own mirth. It rings horribly in a quiet room where there has been, +as the Veddahs of Ceylon say is the case in the world at large, “nothing +to laugh at.” Dean Swift once came to himself, after a dream, +laughing thus hideously at the following conceit: “I told Apronia +to be very careful especially about the legs.” Well, the +explosions of my laughter crackled in a yet more weird and lunatic fashion +about my own ears as I slowly became aware that I had died of an excessive +sense of the ludicrous, and that the space in which I was so inappropriately +giggling was, indeed, the fore-court of the House of Hades. As +I grew more absolutely convinced of this truth, and began dimly to discern +a strange world visible in a sallow light, like that of the London streets +when a black fog hangs just over the houses, my hysterical chuckling +gradually died away. Amusement at the poor follies of mortals +was succeeded by an awful and anxious curiosity as to the state of immortality +and the life after death. Already it was certain that “the +<i>Manes</i> are somewhat,” and that annihilation is the dream +of people sceptical through lack of imagination. The scene around +me now resolved itself into a high grey upland country, bleak and wild, +like the waste pastoral places of Liddesdale. As I stood expectant, +I observed a figure coming towards me at some distance. The figure +bore in its hand a gun, and, as I am short-sighted, I at first conceived +that he was the gamekeeper. “This affair,” I tried +to say to myself, “is only a dream after all; I shall wake and +forget my nightmare.”</p> +<p>But still the man drew nearer, and I began to perceive my error. +Gamekeepers do not usually paint their faces red and green, neither +do they wear scalp-locks, a tuft of eagle’s feathers, moccasins, +and buffalo-hide cloaks, embroidered with representations of war and +the chase. This was the accoutrement of the stranger who now approached +me, and whose copper-coloured complexion indicated that he was a member +of the Red Indian, or, as the late Mr. Morgan called it the “Ganowanian” +race. The stranger’s attire was old and clouted; the barrel +of his flint-lock musket was rusted, and the stock was actually overgrown +with small funguses. It was a peculiarity of this man that everything +he carried was more or less broken and outworn. The barrel of +his piece was riven, his tomahawk was a mere shard of rusted steel, +on many of his accoutrements the vapour of fire had passed. He +approached me with a stately bearing, and, after saluting me in the +fashion of his people, gave me to know that he welcomed me to the land +of spirits, and that he was deputed to carry me to the paradise of the +Ojibbeways. “But, sir,” I cried in painful confusion, +“there is here some great mistake. I am no Ojibbeway, but +an Agnostic; the after-life of spirits is only (as one of our great +teachers says) ‘an hypothesis based on contradictory probabilities;’ +and I really must decline to accompany you to a place of which the existence +is uncertain, and which, if it does anywhere exist, would be uncongenial +in the extreme to a person of my habits.”</p> +<p>To this remonstrance my Ojibbeway Virgil answered, in effect, that +in the enormous passenger traffic between the earth and the next worlds +mistakes must and frequently do occur. <i>Quisque suos patimur +manes</i>, as the Roman says, is the rule, but there are many exceptions. +Many a man finds himself in the paradise of a religion not his own, +and suffers from the consequences. This was, in brief, the explanation +of my guide, who could only console me by observing that if I felt ill +at ease in the Ojibbeway paradise, I might, perhaps, be more fortunate +in that of some other creed. “As for your Agnostics,” +said he, “their main occupation in their own next world is to +read the poetry of George Eliot and the philosophical works of Mr. J. +S. Mill.” On hearing this, I was much consoled for having +missed the entrance to my proper sphere, and I prepared to follow my +guide with cheerful alacrity, into the paradise of the Ojibbeways.</p> +<p>Our track lay, at first, along the “Path of Souls,” and +the still, grey air was only disturbed by a faint rustling and twittering +of spirits on the march. We seemed to have journeyed but a short +time, when a red light shone on the left hand of the way. As we +drew nearer, this light appeared to proceed from a prodigious strawberry, +a perfect mountain of a strawberry. Its cool and shining sides +seemed very attractive to a thirsty Soul. A red man, dressed strangely +in the feathers of a raven, stood hard by, and loudly invited all passers-by +to partake of this refreshment. I was about to excavate a portion +of the monstrous strawberry (being partial to that fruit), when my guide +held my hand and whispered in a low voice that they who accepted the +invitation of the man that guarded the strawberry were lost. He +added that, into whatever paradise I might stray, I must beware of tasting +any of the food of the departed. All who yield to the temptation +must inevitably remain where they have put the food of the dead to their +lips. “You,” said my guide, with a slight sneer, “seem +rather particular about your future home, and you must be especially +careful to make no error.” Thus admonished, I followed my +guide to the river which runs between our world and the paradise of +the Ojibbeways. A large stump of a tree lies half across the stream, +the other half must be crossed by the agility of the wayfarer. +Little children do but badly here, and “an Ojibbeway woman,” +said my guide, “can never be consoled when her child dies before +it is fairly expert in jumping. Such young children they cannot +expect to meet again in paradise.” I made no reply, but +was reminded of some good and unhappy women I had known on earth, who +were inconsolable because their babes had died before being sprinkled +with water by a priest. These babes they, like the Ojibbeway matrons, +“could not expect to meet again in paradise.” To a +grown-up spirit the jump across the mystic river presented no difficulty, +and I found myself instantly among the wigwams of the Ojibbeway heaven. +It was a remarkably large village, and as far as the eye could see huts +and tents were erected along the river. The sound of magic songs +and of drums filled all the air, and in the fields the spirits were +playing lacrosse. All the people of the village had deserted their +homes and were enjoying themselves at the game. Outside one hut, +however, a perplexed and forlorn phantom was sitting, and to my surprise +I saw that he was dressed in European clothes. As we drew nearer +I observed that he wore the black garb and white neck-tie of a minister +in some religious denomination, and on coming to still closer quarters +I recognized an old acquaintance, the Rev. Peter McSnadden. Now +Peter had been a “jined member” of that mysterious “U. +P. Kirk” which, according to the author of “Lothair,” +was founded by the Jesuits for the greater confusion of Scotch theology. +Peter, I knew, had been active as a missionary among the Red Men in +Canada; but I had neither heard of his death nor could conceive how +his shade had found its way into a paradise so inappropriate as that +in which I encountered him. Though never very fond of Peter, my +heart warmed to him, as the heart sometimes does to an acquaintance +unexpectedly met in a strange land. Coming cautiously behind him, +I slapped Peter on the shoulder, whereon he leaped up with a wild unearthly +yell, his countenance displaying lively tokens of terror. When +he recognized me he first murmured, “I thought it was these murdering +Apaches again;” and it was long before I could soothe him, or +get him to explain his fears, and the circumstance of his appearance +in so strange a final home. “Sir,” said Peter, “it’s +just some terrible mistake. For twenty years was I preaching to +these poor painted bodies anent heaven and hell, and trying to win them +from their fearsome notions about a place where they would play at the +ba’ on the Sabbath, and the like shameful heathen diversions. +Many a time did I round it to them about a far, far other place—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Where congregations ne’er break up,<br /> +And sermons never end!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And now, lo and behold, here I am in their heathenish Gehenna, where +the Sabbath-day is just clean neglected; indeed, I have lost count myself, +and do not know one day from the other. Oh, man, it’s just +rideec’lous. A body—I mean a soul—does not know +where to turn.” Here Peter, whose accent I cannot attempt +to reproduce (he was a Paisley man), burst into honest tears. +Though I could not but agree with Peter that his situation was “just +rideec’lous,” I consoled him as well as I might, saying +that a man should make the best of every position, and that “where +there was life there was hope,” a sentiment of which I instantly +perceived the futility in this particular instance. “Ye +do not know the worst,” the Rev. Mr. McSnadden went on. +“I am here to make them sport, like Samson among the Philistines. +Their paradise would be no paradise to them if they had not a pale-face, +as they say, to scalp and tomahawk. And I am that pale-face. +Before you can say ‘scalping-knife’ these awful Apaches +may be on me, taking my scalp and other leeberties with my person. +It grows again, my scalp does, immediately; but that’s only that +they may take it some other day.” The full horror of Mr. +McSnadden’s situation now dawned upon me, but at the same time +I could not but perceive that, without the presence of some pale-face +to torture—Peter or another—paradise would, indeed, be no +paradise to a Red Indian. In the same way Tertullian (or some +other early Father) has remarked that the pleasures of the blessed will +be much enhanced by what they observe of the torments of the wicked. +As I was reflecting thus two wild yells burst upon my hearing. +One came from a band of Apache spirits who had stolen into the Ojibbeway +village; the other scream was uttered by my unfortunate friend. +I confess that I fled with what speed I might, nor did I pause till +the groans of the miserable Peter faded in the distance. He was, +indeed, a man in the wrong paradise.</p> +<p>In my anxiety to avoid sharing the fate of Peter at the hands of +the Apaches, I had run out of sight and sound of the Ojibbeway village. +When I paused I found myself alone, on a wide sandy tract, at the extremity +of which was an endless thicket of dark poplar-trees, a grove dear to +Persephone. Here and there in the dank sand, half buried by the +fallen generations of yellow poplar-leaves, were pits dug, a cubit every +way, and there were many ruinous altars of ancient stones. On +some were engraved figures of a divine pair, a king and queen seated +on a throne, while men and women approached them with cakes in their +hands or with the sacrifice of a cock. While I was admiring these +strange sights, I beheld as it were a moving light among the deeps of +the poplar thicket, and presently saw coming towards me a young man +clad in white raiment and of a radiant aspect. In his hand he +bore a golden wand whereon were wings of gold. The first down +of manhood was on his lip; he was in that season of life when youth +is most gracious. Then I knew him to be no other than Hermes of +the golden rod, the guide of the souls of men outworn. He took +my hand with a word of welcome, and led me through the gloom of the +poplar trees.</p> +<p>Like Thomas the Rhymer, on his way to Fairyland—</p> +<blockquote><p>“We saw neither sun nor moon,<br /> +But we heard the roaring of the sea.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This eternal “swowing of a flode” was the sound made +by the circling stream of Oceanus, as he turns on his bed, washing the +base of the White Rock, and the sands of the region of dreams. +So we fleeted onwards till we came to marvellous lofty gates of black +adamant, that rose before us like the steep side of a hill. On +the left side of the gates we beheld a fountain flowing from beneath +the roots of a white cypress-tree, and to this fountain my guide forbade +me to draw near. “There is another yonder,” he said, +pointing to the right hand, “a stream of still water that issues +from the Lake of Memory, and there are guards who keep that stream from +the lips of the profane. Go to them and speak thus: ‘I am +the child of earth and of the starry sky, yet heavenly is my lineage, +and this yourselves know right well. But I am perishing with thirst, +so give me speedily of that still water which floweth forth of the mere +of Memory.’ And they will give thee to drink of that spring +divine, and then shalt thou dwell with the heroes and the blessed.” +So I did as he said, and went before the guardians of the water. +Now they were veiled, and their voices, when they answered me, seemed +to come from far away. “Thou comest to the pure, from the +pure,” they said, “and thou art a suppliant of holy Persephone. +Happy and most blessed art thou, advance to the reward of the crown +desirable, and be no longer mortal, but divine.” Then a +darkness fell upon me, and lifted again like mist on the hills, and +we found ourselves in the most beautiful place that can be conceived, +a meadow of that short grass which grows on some shores beside the sea. +There were large spaces of fine and solid turf, but, where the little +streams flowed from the delicate-tinted distant mountains, there were +narrow valleys full of all the flowers of a southern spring. Here +grew narcissus and hyacinths, violets and creeping thyme, and crocus +and the crimson rose, as they blossomed on the day when the milk-white +bull carried off Europa. Beyond the level land beside the sea, +between these coasts and the far-off hills, was a steep lonely rock, +on which were set the shining temples of the Grecian faith. The +blue seas that begirt the coasts were narrow, and ran like rivers between +many islands not less fair than the country to which we were come, while +other isles, each with its crest of clear-cut hills, lay westward, far +away, and receding into the place of the sunset. Then I recognized +the Fortunate Islands spoken of by Pindar, and the paradise of the Greeks. +“Round these the ocean breezes blow and golden flowers are glowing, +some from the land on trees of splendour, and some the water feedeth, +with wreaths whereof they entwine their hands.” <a name="citation124"></a><a href="#footnote124">{124}</a> +And, as Pindar says again, “for them shineth below the strength +of the sun, while in our world it is night, and the space of crimson-flowered +meadows before their city is full of the shade of frankincense-trees +and of fruits of gold. And some in horses and in bodily feats, +and some in dice, and some in harp-playing have delight, and among them +thriveth all fair flowering bliss; and fragrance ever streameth through +the lovely land as they mingle incense of every kind upon the altars +of the gods.” In this beautiful country I took great delight, +now watching the young men leaping and running (and they were marvellously +good over a short distance of ground), now sitting in a chariot whereto +were harnessed steeds swifter than the wind, like those that, Homer +says, “the gods gave, glorious gifts, to Peleus.” +And the people, young and old, received me kindly, welcoming me in their +Greek speech, which was like the sound of music. And because I +had ever been a lover of them and of their tongue, my ears were opened +to understand them, though they spoke not Greek as we read it. +Now when I had beheld many of the marvels of the Fortunate Islands, +and had sat at meat with those kind hosts (though I only made semblance +to eat of what they placed before me), and had seen the face of Rhadamanthus +of the golden hair, who is the lord of that country, my friends told +me that there was come among them one of my own nation who seemed most +sad and sorrowful, and they could make him no mirth. Then they +carried me to a house in a grove, and all around it a fair garden, and +a well in the midst.</p> +<p>Now stooping over the well, that he might have sight of his own face, +was a most wretched man. He was pale and very meagre; he had black +rings under his eyes, and his hair was long, limp, and greasy, falling +over his shoulders. He was clad somewhat after the manner of the +old Greeks, but his raiment was wofully ill-made and ill-girt upon him, +nor did he ever seem at his ease. As soon as I beheld his sallow +face I knew him for one I had seen and mocked at in the world of the +living. He was a certain Figgins, and he had been honestly apprenticed +to a photographer; but, being a weak and vain young fellow, he had picked +up modern notions about art, the nude, plasticity, and the like, in +the photographer’s workroom, whereby he became a weariness to +the photographer and to them that sat unto him. Being dismissed +from his honest employment, this chitterling must needs become a model +to some painters that were near as ignorant as himself. They talked +to him about the Greeks, about the antique, about Paganism, about the +Renaissance, till they made him as much the child of folly as themselves. +And they painted him as Antinous, as Eros, as Sleep, and I know not +what, but whatever name they called him he was always the same lank-haired, +dowdy, effeminate, pasty-faced photographer’s young man. +Then he must needs take to writing poems all about Greece, and the free +ways of the old Greeks, and Lais, and Phryne, and therein he made “Aeolus” +rhyme to “control us.” For of Greek this fellow knew +not a word, and any Greek that met him had called him a κολλοψ, +and bidden him begone to the crows for a cursed fellow, and one that +made false quantities in every Greek name he uttered. But his +little poems were much liked by young men of his own sort, and by some +of the young women. Now death had come to Figgins, and here he +was in the Fortunate Islands, the very paradise of those Greeks about +whom he had always been prating while he was alive. And yet he +was not happy. A little lyre lay beside him in the grass, and +now and again he twanged on it dolorously, and he tried to weave himself +garlands from the flowers that grew around him; but he knew not the +art, and ever and anon he felt for his button-hole, wherein to stick +a lily or the like. But he had no button-hole. Then he would +look at himself in the well, and yawn and wish himself back in his friends’ +studios in London. I almost pitied the wretch, and, going up to +him, I asked him how he did. He said he had never been more wretched. +“Why,” I asked, “was your mouth not always full of +the ‘Greek spirit,’ and did you not mock the Christians +and their religion? And, as to their heaven, did you not say that +it was a tedious place, full of pious old ladies and Philistines? +And are you not got to the paradise of the Greeks? What, then, +ails you with your lot?” “Sir,” said he, “to +be plain with you, I do not understand a word these fellows about me +say, and I feel as I did the first time I went to Paris, before I knew +enough French to read the Master’s poems. <a name="citation128"></a><a href="#footnote128">{128}</a> +Again, every one here is mirthful and gay, and there is no man with +a divinely passionate potentiality of pain. When I first came +here they were always asking me to run with them or jump against them, +and one fellow insisted I should box with him, and hurt me very much. +My potentiality of pain is considerable. Or they would have me +drive with them in these dangerous open chariots,—me, that never +rode in a hansom cab without feeling nervous. And after dinner +they sing songs of which I do not catch the meaning of one syllable, +and the music is like nothing I ever heard in my life. And they +are all abominably active and healthy. And such of their poets +as I admired—in Bohn’s cribs, of course—the poets +of the Anthology, are not here at all, and the poets who are here are +tremendous proud toffs” (here Figgins relapsed into his natural +style as it was before he became a Neopagan poet), “and won’t +say a word to a cove. And I’m sick of the Greeks, and the +Fortunate Islands are a blooming fraud, and oh, for paradise, give me +Pentonville.” With these words, perhaps the only unaffected +expression of genuine sentiment poor Figgins had ever uttered, he relapsed +into a gloomy silence. I advised him to cultivate the society +of the authors whose selected works are in the Greek Delectus, and to +try to make friends with Xenophon, whose Greek is about as easy as that +of any ancient. But I fear that Figgins, like the Rev. Peter McSnadden, +is really suffering a kind of punishment in the disguise of a reward, +and all through having accidentally found his way into what he foolishly +thought would be the right paradise for him.</p> +<p>Now I might have stayed long in the Fortunate Islands, yet, beautiful +as they were, I ever felt like Odysseus in the island of fair Circe. +The country was lovely and the land desirable, but the Christian souls +were not there without whom heaven itself were no paradise to me. +And it chanced that as we sat at the feast a maiden came to me with +a pomegranate on a plate of silver, and said, “Sir, thou hast +now been here for the course of a whole moon, yet hast neither eaten +nor drunk of what is set before thee. Now it is commanded that +thou must taste if it were but a seed of this pomegranate, or depart +from among us.” Then, making such excuses as I might, I +was constrained to refuse to eat, for no soul can leave a paradise wherein +it has tasted food. And as I spoke the walls of the fair hall +wherein we sat, which were painted with the effigies of them that fell +at Thermopylæ and in Arcadion, wavered and grew dim, and darkness +came upon me.</p> +<p>The first of my senses which returned to me was that of smell, and +I seemed almost drowned in the spicy perfumes of Araby. Then my +eyes became aware of a green soft fluttering, as of the leaves of a +great forest, but quickly I perceived that the fluttering was caused +by the green scarfs of a countless multitude of women. They were +“fine women” in the popular sense of the term, and were +of the school of beauty admired by the Faithful of Islam, and known +to Mr. Bailey, in “Martin Chuzzlewit,” as “crumby.” +These fond attendant nymphs carried me into gardens twain, in each two +gushing springs, in each fruit, and palms, and pomegranates. There +were the blessed reclining, precisely as the Prophet has declared, “on +beds the linings whereof are brocade, and the fruit of the two gardens +within reach to cull.” There also were the “maids +of modest glances,” previously indifferent to the wooing “of +man or ginn.” “Bright and large-eyed maids kept in +their tents, reclining on green cushions and beautiful carpets. +About the golden couches went eternal youths with goblets and ewers, +and a cup of flowing wine. No headache shall they feel therefrom,” +says the compassionate Prophet, “nor shall their wits be dimmed.” +And all that land is misty and fragrant with the perfume of the softest +Latakia, and the gardens are musical with the bubbling of countless +<i>narghilés</i>; and I must say that to the Christian soul which +enters that paradise the whole place has, certainly, a rather curious +air, as of a highly transcendental Cremorne. There could be no +doubt, however, that the Faithful were enjoying themselves amazingly—“right +lucky fellows,” as we read in the new translation of the Koran. +Yet even here all was not peace and pleasantness, for I heard my name +called by a small voice, in a tone of patient subdued querulousness. +Looking hastily round, I with some difficulty recognized, in a green +turban and silk gown to match, my old college tutor and professor of +Arabic. Poor old Jones had been the best and the most shy of university +men. As there was never any undergraduate in his time (it is different +now) who wished to learn Arabic, his place had been a sinecure, and +he had chiefly devoted his leisure to “drawing” pupils who +were too late for college chapel. The sight of a lady of his acquaintance +in the streets had at all times been alarming enough to drive him into +a shop or up a lane, and he had not survived the creation of the first +batch of married fellows. How he had got into this thoroughly +wrong paradise was a mystery which he made no attempt to explain. +“A nice place this, eh?” he said to me. “Nice +gardens; remind me of Magdalene a good deal. It seems, however, +to be decidedly rather gay just now; don’t you think so? +Commemoration week, perhaps. A great many young ladies up, certainly; +a good deal of cup drunk in the gardens too. I always did prefer +to go down in Commemoration week, myself; never was a dancing man. +There is a great deal of dancing here, but the young ladies dance alone, +rather like what is called the <i>ballet</i>, I believe, at the opera. +I must say the young persons are a little forward; a little embarrassing +it is to be alone here, especially as I have forgotten a good deal of +my Arabic. Don’t you think, my dear fellow, you and I could +manage to give them the slip? Run away from them, eh?” +He uttered a timid little chuckle, and at that moment an innumerable +host of houris began a <i>ballet d’action</i> illustrative of +a series of events in the career of the Prophet. It was obvious +that my poor uncomplaining old friend was really very miserable. +The “thornless loto trees” were all thorny to him, and the +“tal’h trees with piles of fruit, the outspread shade, and +water outpoured” could not comfort him in his really very natural +shyness. A happy thought occurred to me. In early and credulous +youth I had studied the works of Cornelius Agrippa and Petrus de Abano. +Their lessons, which had not hitherto been of much practical service, +recurred to my mind. Stooping down, I drew a circle round myself +and my old friend in the fragrant white blossoms which were strewn so +thick that they quite hid the grass. This circle I fortified by +the usual signs employed, as Benvenuto Cellini tells us, in the conjuration +of evil spirits. I then proceeded to utter one of the common forms +of exorcism. Instantly the myriad houris assumed the forms of +irritated demons; the smoke from the uncounted <i>narghilés</i> +burned thick and black; the cries of the frustrated <i>ginns</i>, who +were no better than they should be, rang wildly in our ears; the palm-trees +shook beneath a mighty wind; the distant summits of the minarets rocked +and wavered, and, with a tremendous crash, the paradise of the Faithful +disappeared.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>As I rang the bell, and requested the club-waiter to carry away the +smoking fragments of the moderator-lamp which I had accidentally knocked +over in awaking from my nightmare, I reflected on the vanity of men +and the unsubstantial character of the future homes that their fancy +has fashioned. The ideal heavens of modern poets and novelists, +and of ancient priests, come no nearer than the drugged dreams of the +angekok and the biraark of Greenland and Queensland to that rest and +peace whereof it has not entered into the mind of man to conceive. +To the wrong man each of our pictured heavens would be a hell, and even +to the appropriate devotee each would become a tedious purgatory.</p> +<h2>A CHEAP NIGGER.</h2> +<h3>I.</h3> +<p>“Have you seen the <i>Clayville Dime</i>?”</p> +<p>Moore chucked me a very shabby little sheet of printed matter. +It fluttered feebly in the warm air, and finally dropped on my recumbent +frame. I was lolling in a hammock in the shade of the verandah.</p> +<p>I did not feel much inclined for study, but I picked up the <i>Clayville +Dime</i> and lazily glanced at that periodical, while Moore relapsed +into the pages of Ixtlilxochitl. He was a literary character for +a planter, had been educated at Oxford (where I made his acquaintance), +and had inherited from his father, with a large collection of Indian +and Mexican curiosities, a taste for the ancient history of the New +World.</p> +<p>Sometimes I glanced at the newspaper; sometimes I looked out at the +pleasant Southern garden, where the fountain flashed and fell among +weeping willows, and laurels, orange-trees, and myrtles.</p> +<p>“Hullo!” I cried suddenly, disturbing Moore’s Aztec +researches, “here is a queer affair in the usually quiet town +of Clayville. Listen to this;” and I read aloud the following +“par,” as I believe paragraphs are styled in newspaper offices:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘Instinct and Accident.—As Colonel +Randolph was driving through our town yesterday and was passing Captain +Jones’s sample-room, where the colonel lately shot Moses Widlake +in the street, the horses took alarm and started violently downhill. +The colonel kept his seat till rounding the corner by the Clayville +Bank, when his wheels came into collision with that edifice, and our +gallant townsman was violently shot out. He is now lying in a +very precarious condition. This may relieve Tom Widlake of the +duty of shooting the colonel in revenge for his father. It is +commonly believed that Colonel Randolph’s horses were maddened +by the smell of the blood which has dried up where old Widlake was shot. +Much sympathy is felt for the colonel. Neither of the horses was +injured.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Clayville appears to be a lively kind of place,” I said. +“Do you often have shootings down here?”</p> +<p>“We do,” said Moore, rather gravely; “it is one +of our institutions with which I could dispense.”</p> +<p>“And do you ‘carry iron,’ as the Greeks used to +say, or ‘go heeled,’ as your citizens express it?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t; neither pistol nor knife. If any +one shoots me, he shoots an unarmed man. The local bullies know +it, and they have some scruple about shooting in that case. Besides, +they know I am an awkward customer at close quarters.”</p> +<p>Moore relapsed into his Mexican historian, and I into the newspaper.</p> +<p>“Here is a chance of seeing one of your institutions at last,” +I said.</p> +<p>I had found an advertisement concerning a lot of negroes to be sold +that very day by public auction in Clayville. All this, of course, +was “before the war.”</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose you ought to see it,” said Moore, rather +reluctantly. He was gradually emancipating his own servants, as +I knew, and was even suspected of being a director of “the Underground +Railroad” to Canada.</p> +<p>“Peter,” he cried, “will you be good enough to +saddle three horses and bring them round?”</p> +<p>Peter, a “darkey boy” who had been hanging about in the +garden, grinned and went off. He was a queer fellow, Peter, a +plantation humourist, well taught in all the then unpublished lore of +“Uncle Remus.” Peter had a way of his own, too, with +animals, and often aided Moore in collecting objects of natural history.</p> +<p>“Did you get me those hornets, Peter?” said Moore, when +the black returned with the horses.</p> +<p>“Got ’em safe, massa, in a little box,” replied +Peter, who then mounted and followed at a respectful distance as our +squire.</p> +<p>Without many more words we rode into the forest which lay between +Clayville and Moore’s plantation. Through the pine barrens +ran the road, and on each side of the way was luxuriance of flowering +creepers. The sweet faint scent of the white jessamine and the +homely fragrance of honeysuckle filled the air, and the wild white roses +were in perfect blossom. Here and there an aloe reminded me that +we were not at home, and dwarf palms and bayonet palmettoes, with the +small pointed leaf of the “live oak,” combined to make the +scenery look foreign and unfamiliar. There was a soft haze in +the air, and the sun’s beams only painted, as it were, the capitals +of the tall pillar-like pines, while the road was canopied and shaded +by the skeins of grey moss that hung thickly on all the boughs.</p> +<p>The trees grew thinner as the road approached the town. Dusty +were the ways, and sultry the air, when we rode into Clayville and were +making for “the noisy middle market-place.” Clayville +was but a small border town, though it could then boast the presence +of a squadron of cavalry, sent there to watch the “border ruffians.” +The square was neither large nor crowded, but the spectacle was strange +and interesting to me. Men who had horses or carts to dispose +of were driving or riding about, noisily proclaiming the excellence +of their wares. But buyers were more concerned, like myself, with +the slave-market. In the open air, in the middle of the place, +a long table was set. The crowd gathered round this, and presented +types of various sorts of citizens. The common “mean white” +was spitting and staring—a man fallen so low that he had no nigger +to wallop, and was thus even more abject, because he had no natural +place and functions in local society, than the slaves themselves. +The local drunkard was uttering sagacities to which no mortal attended. +Two or three speculators were bidding on commission, and there were +a few planters, some of them mounted, and a mixed multitude of tradesmen, +loafers, bar-keepers, newspaper reporters, and idlers in general. +At either end of the long table sat an auctioneer, who behaved with +the traditional facetiousness of the profession. As the “lots” +came on for sale they mounted the platform, generally in family parties. +A party would fetch from one thousand to fifteen hundred dollars, according +to its numbers and “condition.” The spectacle was +painful and monstrous. Most of the “lots” bore the +examination of their points with a kind of placid dignity, and only +showed some little interest when the biddings grew keen and flattered +their pride.</p> +<p>The sale was almost over, and we were just about to leave, when a +howl of derision from the mob made us look round. What <i>I</i> +saw was the apparition of an extremely aged and debilitated black man +standing on the table. What Moore saw to interest him I could +not guess, but he grew pale and uttered an oath of surprise under his +breath, though he rarely swore. Then he turned his horse’s +head again towards the auctioneer. That merry tradesman was extolling +the merits of nearly his last lot. “A very remarkable specimen, +gentlemen! Admirers of the antique cannot dispense with this curious +nigger—very old and quite imperfect. Like so many of the +treasures of Greek art which have reached us, he has had the misfortune +to lose his nose and several of his fingers. How much offered +for this exceptional lot—unmarried and without encumbrances of +any kind? He is dumb too, and may be trusted with any secret.”</p> +<p>“Take him off!” howled some one in the crowd.</p> +<p>“Order his funeral!”</p> +<p>“Chuck him into the next lot.”</p> +<p>“What, gentlemen, <i>no</i> bids for this very eligible nigger? +With a few more rags he would make a most adequate scarecrow.”</p> +<p>While this disgusting banter was going on I observed a planter ride +up to one of the brokers and whisper for some time in his ear. +The planter was a bad but unmistakable likeness of my friend Moore, +worked over, so to speak, with a loaded brush and heavily glazed with +old Bourbon whisky. After giving his orders to the agent he retired +to the outskirts of the crowd, and began flicking his long dusty boots +with a serviceable cowhide whip.</p> +<p>“Well, gentlemen, we must really adopt the friendly suggestion +of Judge Lee and chuck this nigger into the next lot.”</p> +<p>So the auctioneer was saying, when the broker to whom I have referred +cried out, “Ten dollars.”</p> +<p>“<i>This</i> is more like business,” cried the auctioneer. +“Ten dollars offered! What amateur says more than ten dollars +for this lot? His extreme age and historical reminiscences alone, +if he could communicate them, would make him invaluable to the student.”</p> +<p>To my intense amazement Moore shouted from horseback, “Twenty +dollars.”</p> +<p>“What, <i>you</i> want a cheap nigger to get your hand in, +do you, you blank-blanked abolitionist?” cried a man who stood +near. He was a big, dirty-looking bully, at least half drunk, +and attending (not unnecessarily) to his toilet with the point of a +long, heavy knife.</p> +<p>Before the words were out of his mouth Moore had leaped from his +horse and delivered such a right-handed blow as that wherewith the wandering +beggar-man smote Irus of old in the courtyard of Odysseus, Laertes’ +son. “On his neck, beneath the ear, he smote him, and crushed +in the bones; and the red blood gushed up through his mouth, and he +gnashed his teeth together as he kicked the ground.” Moore +stooped, picked up the bowie-knife, and sent it glittering high through +the air.</p> +<p>“Take him away,” he said, and two rough fellows, laughing, +carried the bully to the edge of the fountain that played in the corner +of the square. He was still lying crumpled up there when we rode +out of Clayville.</p> +<p>The bidding, of course, had stopped, owing to the unaffected interest +which the public took in this more dramatic interlude. The broker, +it is true, had bid twenty-five dollars, and was wrangling with the +auctioneer.</p> +<p>“You have my bid, Mr. Brinton, sir, and there is no other offer. +Knock down the lot to me.”</p> +<p>“You wait your time, Mr. Isaacs,” said the auctioneer. +“No man can do two things at once and do them well. When +Squire Moore has settled with Dick Bligh he will desert the paths of +military adventure for the calmer and more lucrative track of commercial +enterprise.”</p> +<p>The auctioneer’s command of long words was considerable, and +was obviously of use to him in his daily avocations.</p> +<p>When he had rounded his period, Moore was in the saddle again, and +nodded silently to the auctioneer.</p> +<p>“Squire Moore bids thirty dollars. Thirty dollars for +this once despised but now appreciated fellow-creature,” rattled +on the auctioneer.</p> +<p>The agent nodded again.</p> +<p>“Forty dollars bid,” said the auctioneer.</p> +<p>“Fifty,” cried Moore.</p> +<p>The broker nodded.</p> +<p>“Sixty.”</p> +<p>The agent nodded again.</p> +<p>The bidding ran rapidly up to three hundred and fifty dollars.</p> +<p>The crowd were growing excited, and had been joined by every child +in the town, by every draggled and sunburnt woman, and the drinking-bar +had disgorged every loafer who felt sober enough to stay the distance +to the centre of the square.</p> +<p>My own first feelings of curiosity had subsided. I knew how +strong and burning was Moore’s hatred of oppression, and felt +convinced that he merely wished at any sacrifice of money to secure +for this old negro some peaceful days and a quiet deathbed.</p> +<p>The crowd doubtless took the same obvious view of the case as I did, +and was now eagerly urging on the two competitors.</p> +<p>“Never say die, Isaacs.”</p> +<p>“Stick to it, Squire; the nigger’s well worth the dollars.”</p> +<p>So they howled, and now the biddings were mounting towards one thousand +dollars, when the sulky planter rode up to the neighbourhood of the +table—much to the inconvenience of the “gallery”—and +whispered to his agent. The conference lasted some minutes, and +at the end of it the agent capped Moore’s last offer, one thousand +dollars, with a bid of one thousand two hundred.</p> +<p>“Fifteen hundred,” said Moore, amidst applause.</p> +<p>“Look here, Mr. Knock-’em-down,” cried Mr. Isaacs: +“it’s hot and thirsty work sitting, nodding here; I likes +my ease on a warm day; so just you reckon that I see the Squire, and +go a hundred dollars more as long as I hold up my pencil.”</p> +<p>He stuck a long gnawed pencil erect between his finger and thumb, +and stared impertinently at Moore. The Squire nodded, and the +bidding went on in this silent fashion till the bids had actually run +up to three thousand four hundred dollars. All this while the +poor negro, whose limbs no longer supported him, crouched in a heap +on the table, turning his haggard eye alternately on Moore and on the +erect and motionless pencil of the broker. The crowd had become +silent with excitement. Unable to stand the heat and agitation, +Moore’s unfriendly brother had crossed the square in search of +a “short drink.” Moore nodded once more.</p> +<p>“Three thousand six hundred dollars bid,” cried the auctioneer, +and looked at Isaacs.</p> +<p>With a wild howl Isaacs dashed his pencil in the air, tossed up his +hands, and thrust them deep down between his coat collar and his body, +uttering all the while yells of pain.</p> +<p>“Don’t you bid, Mr. Isaacs?” asked the auctioneer, +without receiving any answer except Semitic appeals to holy Abraham, +blended with Aryan profanity.</p> +<p>“Come,” said Moore very severely, “his pencil is +down, and he has withdrawn his bid. There is no other bidder; +knock the lot down to me.”</p> +<p>“No more offers?” said the auctioneer slowly, looking +all round the square.</p> +<p>There were certainly no offers from Mr. Isaacs, who now was bounding +like the gad-stung Io to the furthest end of the place.</p> +<p>“This fine buck-negro, warranted absolutely unsound of wind +and limb, going, going, a shameful sacrifice, for a poor three thousand +six hundred dollars. Going, going—gone!”</p> +<p>The hammer fell with a sharp, decisive sound.</p> +<p>A fearful volley of oaths rattled after the noise, like thunder rolling +away in the distance.</p> +<p>Moore’s brother had returned from achieving a “short +drink” just in time to see his coveted lot knocked down to his +rival.</p> +<p>We left the spot, with the negro in the care of Peter, as quickly +as might be.</p> +<p>“I wonder,” said Moore, as we reached the inn and ordered +a trap to carry our valuable bargain home in—“I wonder what +on earth made Isaacs run off like a maniac.”</p> +<p>“Massa,” whispered Peter, “yesterday I jes’ +caught yer Brer Hornet a-loafin’ around in the wood. ‘Come +wi’ me,’ says I, ‘and bottled him in this yer pasteboard +box,’” showing one which had held Turkish tobacco. +“When I saw that Hebrew Jew wouldn’t stir his pencil, I +jes’ crept up softly and dropped Brer Hornet down his neck. +Then he jes’ rose and went. Spec’s he and Brer Hornet +had business of their own.”</p> +<p>“Peter,” said Moore, “you are a good boy, but you +will come to a bad end.”</p> +<h3>II.</h3> +<p>As we rode slowly homeward, behind the trap which conveyed the dear-bought +slave, Moore was extremely moody and disinclined for conversation.</p> +<p>“Is your purchase not rather an expensive one?” I ventured +to ask, to which Moore replied shortly—</p> +<p>“No; think he is perhaps the cheapest nigger that was ever +bought.”</p> +<p>To put any more questions would have been impertinent, and I possessed +my curiosity in silence till we reached the plantation.</p> +<p>Here Moore’s conduct became decidedly eccentric. He had +the black man conveyed at once into a cool, dark, strong room with a +heavy iron door, where the new acquisition was locked up in company +with a sufficient meal. Moore and I dined hastily, and then he +summoned all his negroes together into the court of the house. +“Look here, boys,” he cried: “all these trees”—and +he pointed to several clumps “must come down immediately, and +all the shrubs on the lawn and in the garden. Fall to at once, +those of you that have axes, and let the rest take hoes and knives and +make a clean sweep of the shrubs.” The idea of wholesale +destruction seemed not disagreeable to the slaves, who went at their +work with eagerness, though it made my heart ache to see the fine old +oaks beginning to fall and to watch the green garden becoming a desert. +Moore first busied himself with directing the women, who, under his +orders, piled up mattresses and bags of cotton against the parapets +of the verandahs. The house stood on the summit of a gradually +sloping height, and before the moon began to set (for we worked without +intermission through the evening and far into the night) there was nothing +but a bare slope of grass all round the place, while smoke and flame +went up from the piles of fallen timber. The plantation, in fact, +was ready to stand a short siege.</p> +<p>Moore now produced a number of rifles, which he put, with ammunition, +into the hands of some of the more stalwart negroes. These he +sent to their cabins, which lay at a distance of about a furlong and +a half on various sides of the house. The men had orders to fire +on any advancing enemy, and then to fall back at once on the main building, +which was now barricaded and fortified. One lad was told to lurk +in a thicket below the slope of the hill and invisible from the house.</p> +<p>“If Wild Bill’s men come on, and you give them the slip, +cry thrice like the ‘Bob White,’” said Moore; “if +they take you, cry once. If you get off, run straight to Clayville, +and give this note to the officer commanding the cavalry.”</p> +<p>The hour was now about one in the morning; by three the dawn would +begin. In spite of his fatigues, Moore had no idea of snatching +an hour’s rest. He called up Peter (who had been sleeping, +coiled up like a black cat, in the smoking-room), and bade him take +a bath and hot water into the room where Gumbo, the newly purchased +black, had all this time been left to his own reflections. “Soap +him and lather him well, Peter,” said Moore; “wash him white, +if you can, and let me know when he’s fit to come near.”</p> +<p>Peter withdrew with his stereotyped grin to make his preparations.</p> +<p>Presently, through the open door of the smoking-room, we heard the +sounds of energetic splashings, mingled with the inarticulate groans +of the miserable Gumbo. Moore could not sit still, but kept pacing +the room, smoking fiercely. Presently Peter came to the door—</p> +<p>“Nigger’s clean now, massa.”</p> +<p>“Bring me a razor, then,” said Moore, “and leave +me alone with him.”</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>When Moore had retired, with the razor, into the chamber where his +purchase lay, I had time to reflect on the singularity of the situation. +In every room loaded rifles were ready; all the windows were cunningly +barricaded, and had sufficient loopholes. The peaceful planter’s +house had become a castle; a dreadful quiet had succeeded to the hubbub +of preparation, and my host, yesterday so pleasant, was now locked up +alone with a dumb negro and a razor! I had long ago given up the +hypothesis that Gumbo had been purchased out of pure philanthropy. +The disappointment of baffled cruelty in Moore’s brother would +not alone account for the necessity of such defensive preparations as +had just been made. Clearly Gumbo was not a mere fancy article, +but a negro of real value, whose person it was desirable to obtain possession +of at any risk or cost. The ghastly idea occurred to me (suggested, +I fancy, by Moore’s demand for a razor) that Gumbo, at some period +of his career, must have swallowed a priceless diamond. This gem +must still be concealed about his person, and Moore must have determined +by foul means, as no fair means were available, to become its owner. +When this fancy struck me I began to feel that it was my duty to interfere. +I could not sit by within call (had poor Gumbo been capable of calling) +and allow my friend to commit such a deed of cruelty. As I thus +parleyed with myself, the heavy iron door of the store-room opened, +and Moore came out, with the razor (bloodless, thank Heaven!) in his +hand. Anxiety had given place to a more joyous excitement.</p> +<p>“Well?” I said interrogatively.</p> +<p>“Well, all’s well. That man has, as I felt sure, +the Secret of the Pyramid.”</p> +<p>I now became quite certain that Moore, in spite of all his apparent +method, had gone out of his mind. It seemed best to humour him, +especially as so many loaded rifles were lying about.</p> +<blockquote><p>“He has seen the myst’ry hid<br /> +Under Egypt’s pyramid,”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I quoted; “but, my dear fellow, as the negro is dumb, I don’t +see how you are to get the secret out of him.”</p> +<p>“I did not say he <i>knew</i> it,” answered Moore crossly; +“I said he <i>had</i> it. As to Egypt, I don’t know +what you are talking about—”</p> +<p>At this moment we heard the crack of rifles, and in the instant of +silence which followed came the note of the “Bob White.”</p> +<p>Once it shrilled, and we listened eagerly; then the notes came twice +rapidly, and a sound of voices rose up from the negro outposts, who +had been driven in and were making fast the one door of the house that +had been left open. From the negroes we learned that our assailants +(Bill Hicock’s band of border ruffians, “specially engaged +for this occasion”) had picketed their horses behind the dip of +the hill and were advancing on foot. Moore hurried to the roof +to reconnoitre. The dawn was stealing on, and the smoke from the +still smouldering trees, which we had felled and burned, rose through +the twilight air.</p> +<p>“Moore, you hound,” cried a voice through the smoke of +the furthest pile, “we have come for your new nigger. Will +you give him up or will you fight?”</p> +<p>Moore’s only reply was a bullet fired in the direction whence +the voice was heard. His shot was answered by a perfect volley +from men who could just be discerned creeping through the grass about +four hundred yards out. The bullets rattled harmlessly against +wooden walls and iron shutters, or came with a thud against the mattress +fortifications of the verandah. The firing was all directed against +the front of the house.</p> +<p>“I see their game,” said Moore. “The front +attack is only a feint. When they think we are all busy here, +another detachment will try to rush the place from the back and to set +fire to the building. We’ll ‘give them their kail +through the reek.’”</p> +<p>Moore’s dispositions were quickly made. He left me with +some ten of the blacks to keep up as heavy a fire as possible from the +roof against the advancing skirmishers. He posted himself, with +six fellows on whom he could depend, in a room of one of the wings which +commanded the back entrance. As many men, with plenty of ready-loaded +rifles, were told off to a room in the opposite wing. Both parties +were thus in a position to rake the entrance with a cross fire. +Moore gave orders that not a trigger should be pulled till the still +invisible assailants had arrived on his side, between the two projecting +wings. “Then fire into them, and let every one choose his +man.”</p> +<p>On the roof our business was simple enough. We lay behind bags +of cotton, firing as rapidly and making as much show of force as possible, +while women kept loading for us. Our position was extremely strong, +as we were quite invisible to men crouching or running hurriedly far +below. Our practice was not particularly good; still three or +four of the skirmishers had ceased to advance, and this naturally discouraged +the others, who were aware, of course, that their movement was only +a feint. The siege had now lasted about half an hour, and I had +begun to fancy that Moore’s theory of the attack was a mistake, +and that he had credited the enemy with more generalship than they possessed, +when a perfect storm of fire broke out beneath us, from the rooms where +Moore and his company were posted. Dangerous as it was to cease +for a moment from watching the enemy, I stole across the roof, and, +looking down between two of the cotton bags which filled the open spaces +of the balustrades, I saw the narrow ground between the two wings simply +strewn with dead or wounded men. The cross fire still poured from +the windows, though here and there a marksman tried to pick off the +fugitives. Rapidly did I cross the roof to my post. To my +horror the skirmishers had advanced, as if at the signal of the firing, +and were now running up at full speed and close to the walls of the +house. At that moment the door opened, and Moore, heading a number +of negroes, picked off the leading ruffian and rushed out into the open. +The other assailants fired hurriedly and without aim, then—daunted +by the attack so suddenly carried into their midst, and by the appearance +of one or two of their own beaten comrades—the enemy turned and +fairly bolted. We did not pursue. Far away down the road +we heard the clatter of hoofs, and thin and clear came the thrice-repeated +cry of the “Bob White.”</p> +<p>“Dick’s coming back with the soldiers,” said Moore; +“and now I think we may look after the wounded.”</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>I did not see much of Moore that day. The fact is that I slept +a good deal, and Moore was mysteriously engaged with Gumbo. Night +came, and very much needed quiet and sleep came with it. Then +we passed an indolent day, and I presumed that adventures were over, +and that on the subject of “the Secret of the Pyramid” Moore +had recovered his sanity. I was just taking my bedroom candle +when Moore said, “Don’t go to bed yet. You will come +with me, won’t you, and see out the adventure of the Cheap Nigger?”</p> +<p>“You don’t mean to say the story is to be continued?” +I asked.</p> +<p>“Continued? Why the fun is only beginning,” Moore +answered. “The night is cloudy, and will just suit us. +Come down to the branch.”</p> +<p>The “branch,” as Moore called it, was a strong stream +that separated, as I knew, his lands from his brother’s. +We walked down slowly, and reached the broad boat which was dragged +over by a chain when any one wanted to cross. At the “scow,” +as the ferry-boat was called, Peter joined us; he ferried us deftly +over the deep and rapid water, and then led on, as rapidly as if it +had been daylight, along a path through the pines.</p> +<p>“How often I came here when I was a boy,” said Moore; +“but now I might lose myself in the wood, for this is my brother’s +land, and I have forgotten the way.”</p> +<p>As I knew that Mr. Bob Moore was confined to his room by an accident, +through which an ounce of lead had been lodged in a portion of his frame, +I had no fear of being arrested for trespass. Presently the negro +stopped in front of a cliff.</p> +<p>“Here is the ‘Sachem’s Cave,’” said +Moore. “You’ll help us to explore the cave, won’t +you?”</p> +<p>I did not think the occasion an opportune one for exploring caves, +but to have withdrawn would have demanded a “moral courage,” +as people commonly say when they mean cowardice, which I did not possess. +We stepped within a narrow crevice of the great cliff. Moore lit +a lantern and went in advance; the negro followed with a flaring torch.</p> +<p>Suddenly an idea occurred to me, which I felt bound to communicate +to Moore. “My dear fellow,” I said in a whisper, “is +this quite sportsmanlike? You know you are after some treasure, +real or imaginary, and, I put it to you as a candid friend, is not this +just a little bit like poaching? Your brother’s land, you +know.”</p> +<p>“What I am looking for is in my own land,” said Moore. +“The river is the march. Come on.”</p> +<p>We went on, now advancing among fairy halls, glistering with stalactites +or paved with silver sand, and finally pushing our way through a concealed +crevice down dank and narrow passages in the rock. The darkness +increased; the pavement plashed beneath our feet, and the drip, drip +of water was incessant. “We are under the river-bed,” +said Moore, “in a kind of natural Thames Tunnel.” +We made what speed we might through this combination of the Valley of +the Shadow with the Slough of Despond, and soon were on firmer ground +again beneath Moore’s own territory. Probably no other white +men had ever crawled through the hidden passage and gained the further +penetralia of the cave, which now again began to narrow. Finally +we reached four tall pillars, of about ten feet in height, closely surrounded +by the walls of rock. As we approached these pillars, that were +dimly discerned by the torchlight, our feet made a faint metallic jingling +sound among heaps of ashes which strewed the floor. Moore and +I went up to the pillars and tried them with our knives. They +were of wood, all soaked and green with the eternal damp. “Peter,” +said Moore, “go in with the lantern and try if you can find anything +there.”</p> +<p>Peter had none of the superstitions of his race, or he would never +have been our companion. “All right, massa; me look for +Brer Spook.”</p> +<p>So saying, Peter walked into a kind of roofed over-room, open only +at the front, and examined the floor with his lantern, stamping occasionally +to detect any hollowness in the ground.</p> +<p>“Nothing here, massa, but this dead fellow’s leg-bone +and little bits of broken jugs,” and the dauntless Peter came +out with his ghastly trophy.</p> +<p>Moore seemed not to lose heart.</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” he said, “there is something on the +roof. Peter, give me a back.”</p> +<p>Peter stooped down beside one of the wooden pillars and firmly grasped +his own legs above the knee. Moore climbed on the improvised ladder, +and was just able to seize the edge of the roof, as it seemed to be, +with his hands.</p> +<p>“Now steady, Peter,” he exclaimed, and with a spring +he drew himself up till his head was above the level of the roof. +Then he uttered a cry, and, leaping from Peter’s back retreated +to the level where we stood in some confusion.</p> +<p>“Good God!” he said, “what a sight!”</p> +<p>“What on earth is the matter?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Look for yourself, if you choose,” said Moore, who was +somewhat shaken, and at the same time irritated and ashamed.</p> +<p>Grasping the lantern, I managed to get on to Peter’s shoulders, +and by a considerable gymnastic effort to raise my head to the level +of the ledge, and at the same time to cast the light up and within.</p> +<p>The spectacle was sufficiently awful.</p> +<p>I was looking along a platform, on which ten skeletons were disposed +at full length, with the skulls still covered with long hair, and the +fleshless limbs glimmering white and stretching back into the darkness.</p> +<p>On the right hand, and crouching between a skeleton and the wall +of the chamber (what we had taken for a roof was the floor of a room +raised on pillars), I saw the form of a man. He was dressed in +gay colours, and, as he sat with his legs drawn up, his arms rested +on his knees.</p> +<p>On the first beholding of a dreadful thing, our instinct forces us +to rush against it, as if to bring the horror to the test of touch. +This instinct wakened in me. For a moment I felt dazed, and then +I continued to stare involuntarily at the watcher of the dead. +He had not stirred. My eyes became accustomed to the dim and flickering +light which the lantern cast in that dark place.</p> +<p>“Hold on, Peter,” I cried, and leaped down to the floor +of the cave.</p> +<p>“It’s all right, Moore,” I said. “Don’t +you remember the picture in old Lafitau’s ‘Mœurs des +Sauvages Américains’? We are in a burying-place of +the Cherouines, and the seated man is only the <i>kywash</i>, ‘which +is an image of woode keeping the deade.’”</p> +<p>“Ass that I am!” cried Moore. “I knew the +cave led us from the Sachem’s Cave to the Sachem’s Mound, +and I forgot for a moment how the fellows disposed of their dead. +We must search the platform. Peter, make a ladder again.”</p> +<p>Moore mounted nimbly enough this time. I followed him.</p> +<p>The <i>kywash</i> had no more terrors for us, and we penetrated beyond +the fleshless dead into the further extremity of the sepulchre. +Here we lifted and removed vast piles of deerskin bags, and of mats, +filled as they were with “the dreadful dust that once was man.” +As we reached the bottom of the first pile something glittered yellow +and bright beneath the lantern.</p> +<p>Moore stooped and tried to lift what looked like an enormous plate. +He was unable to raise the object, still weighed down as it was with +the ghastly remnants of the dead. With feverish haste we cleared +away the <i>débris</i>, and at last lifted and brought to light +a huge and massive disk of gold, divided into rays which spread from +the centre, each division being adorned with strange figures in relief—figures +of animals, plants, and what looked like rude hieroglyphs.</p> +<p>This was only the firstfruits of the treasure.</p> +<p>A silver disk, still larger, and decorated in the same manner, was +next uncovered, and last, in a hollow dug in the flooring of the sepulchre, +we came on a great number of objects in gold and silver, which somewhat +reminded us of Indian idols. These were thickly crusted with precious +stones, and were accompanied by many of the sacred emeralds and opals +of old American religion. There were also some extraordinary manuscripts, +if the term may be applied to picture writing on prepared deerskins +that were now decaying. We paid little attention to cloaks of +the famous feather-work, now a lost art, of which one or two examples +are found in European museums. The gold, and silver, and precious +stones, as may be imagined, overcame for the moment any ethnological +curiosity.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>Dawn was growing into day before we reached the mouth of the cave +again, and after a series of journeys brought all our spoil to the light +of the upper air. It was quickly enough bestowed in bags and baskets. +Then, aided by three of Moore’s stoutest hands, whom we found +waiting for us in the pine wood, we carried the whole treasure back, +and lodged it in the strong room which had been the retreat of Gumbo.</p> +<h3>III.</h3> +<p>The conclusion of my story shall be very short. What was the +connection between Gumbo and the spoils of the Sachem’s Mound, +and how did the treasures of the Aztec Temple of the Sun come to be +concealed in the burial place of the Red Man? All this Moore explained +to me the day after we secured the treasures.</p> +<p>“My father,” said Moore, “was, as you know, a great +antiquarian, and a great collector of Mexican and native relics. +He had given almost as much time as Brasseur de Bourbourg to Mexican +hieroglyphics, and naturally had made nothing out of them. His +chief desire was to discover the Secret of the Pyramid—not the +pyramids of Egypt, as you fancied, but the Pyramid of the Sun, Tonatiuh, +at Teohuacan. To the problem connected with this mysterious structure, +infinitely older than the empire of Montezuma, which Cortes destroyed, +he fancied he had a clue in this scroll.”</p> +<p>Moore handed me a prepared sheet of birch bark, like those which +the red men use for their rude picture writings. It was very old, +but the painted characters were still brilliant, and even a tyro could +see that they were not Indian, but of the ancient Mexican description. +In the upper left-hand corner was painted a pyramidal structure, above +which the sun beamed. Eight men, over whose heads the moon was +drawn, were issuing from the pyramid; the two foremost bore in their +hands effigies of the sun and moon; each of the others seemed to carry +smaller objects with a certain religious awe. Then came a singular +chart, which one might conjecture represented the wanderings of these +men, bearing the sacred things of their gods. In the lowest corner +of the scroll they were being received by human beings dressed unlike +themselves, with head coverings of feathers and carrying bows in their +hands.</p> +<p>“This scroll,” Moore went on, “my father bought +from one of the last of the red men who lingered on here, a prey to +debt and whisky. My father always associated the drawings with +the treasures of Teohuacan, which, according to him, must have been +withdrawn from the pyramid, and conveyed secretly to the north, the +direction from which the old Toltec pyramid builders originally came. +In the north they would find no civilized people like themselves, he +said, but only the Indians. Probably, however, the Indians would +receive with respect the bearers of mysterious images and rites, and +my father concluded that the sacred treasures of the Sun might still +be concealed among some wandering tribe of red men. He had come +to this conclusion for some time, when I and my brother returned from +school, hastily summoned back, to find him extremely ill. He had +suffered from a paralytic stroke, and he scarcely recognized us. +But we made out, partly from his broken and wandering words, partly +from old Tom (Peter’s father, now dead), that my father’s +illness had followed on a violent fit of passion. He had picked +up, it seems, from some Indians a scroll which he considered of the +utmost value, and which he placed in a shelf of the library. Now, +old Gumbo was a house-servant at that time, and, dumb as he was, and +stupid as he was, my father had treated him with peculiar kindness. +Unluckily Gumbo yielded to the favourite illusion of all servants, white +and black, male and female, that anything they find in the library may +be used to light a fire with. One chilly day Gumbo lighted the +fire with the newly purchased Indian birch scroll. My father, +when he heard of this performance, lost all self-command. In his +ordinary temper the most humane of men, he simply raged at Gumbo. +He would teach him, he said, to destroy his papers. And it appeared, +from what we could piece together (for old Tom was very reticent and +my father very incoherent), that he actually branded or tattooed a copy +of what Gumbo had burnt on the nigger’s body!”</p> +<p>“But,” I interrupted, “your father knew all the +scroll had to tell him, else he could not have copied it on Gumbo. +So why was he in such a rage?”</p> +<p>“You,” said Moore, with some indignation, “are +not a collector, and you can’t understand a collector’s +feelings. My father knew the contents of the scroll, but what +of that? The scroll was the first edition, the real original, +and Gumbo had destroyed it. Job would have lost his temper if +Job had been a collector. Let me go on. My brother and I +both conjectured that the scroll had some connection with the famous +riches of the Sun and the secret of the Pyramid of Teohuacan. +Probably, we thought, it had contained a chart (now transferred to Gumbo’s +frame) of the hiding-place of the treasure. However, in the confusion +caused by my father’s illness, death, and burial, Gumbo escaped, +and, being an unusually stupid nigger, he escaped due south-west. +Here he seems to have fallen into the hands of some slave-holding Indians, +who used him even worse than any white owners would have done, and left +him the mere fragment you saw. He filtered back here through the +exchange of commerce, ‘the higgling of the market,’ and +as soon as I recognized him at the sale I made up my mind to purchase +him. So did my brother; but, thanks to Peter and his hornets, +I became Gumbo’s owner. On examining him, after he was well +washed on the night of the attack, I found this chart, as you may call +it, branded on Gumbo’s back.” Here Moore made a rapid +tracing on a sheet of paper. “I concluded that the letters +S M (introduced by my father, of course, as the Indian scroll must have +been ‘before letters’) referred to the Sachem’s Mound, +which is in my land; that the Sun above referred to the treasures of +the Sun, that S C stood for the Sachem’s Cave, and that the cave +led, under the river, within the mound. We might have opened the +mound by digging on our own land, but it would have been a long job, +and must have attracted curiosity and brought us into trouble. +So, you see, the chart Gumbo destroyed was imprinted by my father on +his black back, and though he <i>knew</i> nothing of the secret he distinctly +<i>had</i> it.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “but why did you ask for a razor +when you were left alone with Gumbo?”</p> +<p>“Why,” said Moore, “I knew Gumbo was marked somewhere +and somehow, but the place and manner I didn’t know. And +my father might have remembered the dodge of Histiæus in Herodotus: +he might have shaved Gumbo’s head, tattooed the chart on that, +and then allowed the natural covering to hide the secret ‘on the +place where the wool ought to grow.’”</p> +<h2>THE ROMANCE OF THE FIRST RADICAL.</h2> +<h3>A PREHISTORIC APOLOGUE.</h3> +<blockquote><p>“Titius. Le premier qui supprime un abus, +comme on dit, est toujours victime du service qu’il rend.</p> +<p>Un Homme du Peuple. C’est de sa faute! Pourquoi +se mêlé t’il de ce qui ne le regarde pas.”—Le +Prêtre de Nemi.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The Devil, according to Dr. Johnson and other authorities, was the +first Whig. History tells us less about the first Radical—the +first man who rebelled against the despotism of unintelligible customs, +who asserted the rights of the individual against the claims of the +tribal conscience, and who was eager to see society organized, off-hand, +on what he thought a rational method. In the absence of history, +we must fall back on that branch of hypothetics which is known as prehistoric +science. We must reconstruct the Romance of the First Radical +from the hints supplied by geology, and by the study of Radicals at +large, and of contemporary savages among whom no Radical reformer has +yet appeared. In the following little apologue no trait of manners +is invented.</p> +<p>The characters of our romance lived shortly after the close of the +last glacial epoch in Europe, when the ice had partly withdrawn from +the face of the world, and when land and sea had almost assumed their +modern proportions. At this period Europe was inhabited by scattered +bands of human creatures, who roamed about its surface much as the black +fellows used to roam over the Australian continent. The various +groups derived their names from various animals and other natural objects, +such as the sun, the cabbage, serpents, sardines, crabs, leopards, bears, +and hyænas. It is important for our purpose to remember +that all the children took their family name from the mother’s +side. If she were of the Hyæna clan, the children were Hyænas. +If the mother were tattooed with the badge of the Serpent, the children +were Serpents, and so on. No two persons of the same family name +and crest might marry, on pain of death. The man of the Bear family +who dwelt by the Mediterranean might not ally himself with a woman of +the Bear clan whose home was on the shores of the Baltic, and who was +in no way related to him by consanguinity. These details are dry, +but absolutely necessary to the comprehension of the First Radical’s +stormy and melancholy career. We must also remember that, among +the tribes, there was no fixed or monarchical government. The +little democratic groups were much influenced by the medicine-men or +wizards, who combined the functions of the modern clergy and of the +medical profession. The old men, too, had some power; the braves, +or warriors, constituted a turbulent oligarchy; the noisy outcries of +the old women corresponded to the utterances of an intelligent daily +press. But the real ruler was a body of strange and despotic customs, +the nature of which will become apparent as we follow the fortunes of +the First Radical.</p> +<h3>THE YOUTH OF WHY-WHY.</h3> +<p>Why-Why, as our hero was commonly called in the tribe, was born, +long before Romulus built his wall, in a cave which may still be observed +in the neighbourhood of Mentone. On the warm shores of the Mediterranean, +protected from winds by a wall of rock, the group of which Why-Why was +the offspring had attained conditions of comparative comfort. +The remains of their dinners, many feet deep, still constitute the flooring +of the cave, and the tourist, as he pokes the soil with the point of +his umbrella, turns up bits of bone, shreds of chipped flint, and other +interesting relics. In the big cave lived several little families, +all named by the names of their mothers. These ladies had been +knocked on the head and dragged home, according to the marriage customs +of the period, from places as distant as the modern Marseilles and Genoa. +Why-Why, with his little brothers and sisters, were named Serpents, +were taught to believe that the serpent was the first ancestor of their +race, and that they must never injure any creeping thing. When +they were still very young, the figure of the serpent was tattooed over +their legs and breasts, so that every member of primitive society who +met them had the advantage of knowing their crest and highly respectable +family name.</p> +<p>The birth of Why-Why was a season of discomfort and privation. +The hill tribe which lived on the summit of the hill now known as the +Tête du Chien had long been aware that an addition to the population +of the cave was expected. They had therefore prepared, according +to the invariable etiquette of these early times, to come down on the +cave people, maltreat the ladies, steal all the property they could +lay hands on, and break whatever proved too heavy to carry. Good +manners, of course, forbade the cave people to resist this visit, but +etiquette permitted (and in New Caledonia still permits) the group to +bury and hide its portable possessions. Canoes had been brought +into the little creek beneath the cave, to convey the women and children +into a safe retreat, and the men were just beginning to hide the spears, +bone daggers, flint fish-hooks, mats, shell razors, nets, and so forth, +when Why-Why gave an early proof of his precocity by entering the world +some time before his arrival was expected.</p> +<p>Instantly all was confusion. The infant, his mother and the +other non-combatants of the tribe, were bundled into canoes and paddled, +through a tempestuous sea, to the site of the modern Bordighiera. +The men who were not with the canoes fled into the depths of the Gorge +Saint Louis, which now severs France from Italy. The hill tribe +came down at the double, and in a twinkling had “made hay” +(to borrow a modern agricultural expression) of all the personal property +of the cave dwellers. They tore the nets (the use of which they +did not understand), they broke the shell razors, they pouched the opulent +store of flint arrowheads and bone daggers, and they tortured to death +the pigs, which the cave people had just begun to try to domesticate. +After performing these rites, which were perfectly legal—indeed, +it would have been gross rudeness to neglect them—the hill people +withdrew to their wind-swept home on the Tête du Chien.</p> +<p>Philosophers who believe in the force of early impressions will be +tempted to maintain that Why-Why’s invincible hatred of established +institutions may be traced to these hours of discomfort in which his +life began.</p> +<p>The very earliest years of Why-Why, unlike those of Mr. John Stuart +Mill, whom in many respects he resembled, were not distinguished by +proofs of extraordinary intelligence. He rather promptly, however, +showed signs of a sceptical character. Like other sharp children, +Why-Why was always asking metaphysical conundrums. Who made men? +Who made the sun? Why has the cave-bear such a hoarse voice? +Why don’t lobsters grow on trees?—he would incessantly demand. +In answer to these and similar questions, the mother of Why-Why would +tell him stories out of the simple mythology of the tribe. There +was quite a store of traditional replies to inquisitive children, replies +sanctioned by antiquity and by the authority of the medicine-men, and +in this lore Why-Why’s mother was deeply versed.</p> +<p>Thus, for example, Why-Why would ask his mother who made men. +She would reply that long ago Pund-jel, the first man, made two images +of human beings in clay, and stuck on curly bark for hair. He +then danced a corroboree round them, and sang a song. They rose +up, and appeared as full-grown men. To this statement, hallowed +by immemorial belief, Why-Why only answered by asking who made Pund-jel. +His mother said that Pund-jel came out of a plot of reeds and rushes. +Why-Why was silent, but thought in his heart that the whole theory was +“bosh-bosh,” to use the early reduplicative language of +these remote times. Nor could he conceal his doubts about the +Deluge and the frog who once drowned all the world. Here is the +story of the frog:—“Once, long ago, there was a big frog. +He drank himself full of water. He could not get rid of the water. +Once he saw a sand-eel dancing on his tail by the sea-shore. It +made him laugh so that he burst, and all the water ran out. There +was a great flood, and every one was drowned except two or three men +and women, who got on an island. Past came the pelican, in a canoe; +he took off the men, but wanting to marry the woman, kept her to the +last. She wrapped up a log in a ’possum rug to deceive the +pelican, and swam to shore and escaped. The pelican was very angry; +he began to paint himself white, to show that he was on the war trail, +when past came another pelican, did not like his looks, and killed him +with his beak. That is why pelicans are partly black and white, +if you want to know, my little dear,” said the mother of Why-Why.</p> +<p>Many stories like this were told in the cave, but they found no credit +with Why-Why. When he was but ten years old, his inquiring spirit +showed itself in the following remarkable manner. He had always +been informed that a serpent was the mother of his race, and that he +must treat serpents with the greatest reverence. To kill one was +sacrilege. In spite of this, he stole out unobserved and crushed +a viper which had stung his little brother. He noticed that no +harm ensued, and this encouraged him to commit a still more daring act. +None but the old men and the warriors were allowed to eat oysters. +It was universally held that if a woman or a child touched an oyster, +the earth would open and swallow the culprit. Not daunted by this +prevalent belief, Why-Why one day devoured no less than four dozen oysters, +opening the shells with a flint spear-head, which he had secreted in +his waist-band. The earth did not open and swallow him as he had +swallowed the oysters, and from that moment he became suspicious of +all the ideas and customs imposed by the old men and wizards.</p> +<p>Two or three touching incidents in domestic life, which occurred +when Why-Why was about twelve years old, confirmed him in the dissidence +of his dissent, for the first Radical was the first Dissenter. +The etiquette of the age (which survives among the Yorubas and other +tribes) made it criminal for a woman to see her husband, or even to +mention his name. When, therefore, the probable father of Why-Why +became weary of supporting his family, he did not need to leave the +cave and tramp abroad. He merely ceased to bring in tree-frogs, +grubs, roots, and the other supplies which Why-Why’s mother was +accustomed to find concealed under a large stone in the neighbourhood +of the cave.</p> +<p>The poor pious woman, who had always religiously abstained from seeing +her lord’s face, and from knowing his name, was now reduced to +destitution. There was no one to grub up pig-nuts for her, nor +to extract insects of an edible sort from beneath the bark of trees. +As she could not identify her invisible husband, she was unable to denounce +him to the wizards, who would, for a consideration, have frightened +him out of his life or into the performance of his duty. Thus, +even with the aid of Why-Why, existence became too laborious for her +strength, and she gradually pined away. As she lay in a half-fainting +and almost dying state, Why-Why rushed out to find the most celebrated +local medicine-man. In half an hour the chief medicine-man appeared, +dressed in the skin of a wolf, tagged about with bones, skulls, dead +lizards, and other ornaments of his official attire. You may see +a picture very like him in Mr. Catlin’s book about the Mandans. +Armed with a drum and a rattle, he leaped into the presence of the sick +woman, uttering unearthly yells. His benevolent action and “bedside +manner” were in accordance with the medical science of the time. +He merely meant to frighten away the evil spirit which (according to +the received hypothesis) was destroying the mother of Why-Why. +What he succeeded in doing was to make Why-Why’s mother give a +faint scream, after which her jaw fell, and her eyes grew fixed and +staring.</p> +<p>The grief of Why-Why was profound. Reckless of consequences, +he declared, with impious publicity, that the law which forbade a wife +to see her own husband, and the medical science which frightened poor +women to death were cruel and ridiculous. As Why-Why (though a +promising child) was still under age, little notice was taken of remarks +which were attributed to the petulance of youth. But when he went +further, and transgressed the law which then forbade a brother to speak +to his own sister, on pain of death, the general indignation was no +longer repressed. In vain did Why-Why plead that if he neglected +his sister no one else would comfort her. His life was spared, +but the unfortunate little girl’s bones were dug up by a German +savant last year, in a condition which makes it only too certain that +cannibalism was practised by the early natives of the Mediterranean +coast. These incidents then, namely, the neglect of his unknown +father, the death of his mother, and the execution of his sister, confirmed +Why-Why in the belief that radical social reforms were desirable.</p> +<p>The coming of age of Why-Why was celebrated in the manner usual among +primitive people. The ceremonies were not of a character to increase +his pleasure in life, nor his respect for constituted authority. +When he was fourteen years of age, he was pinned, during his sleep, +by four adult braves, who knocked out his front teeth, shaved his head +with sharp chips of quartzite, cut off the first joint of his little +finger, and daubed his whole body over with clay. They then turned +him loose, imposing on him his name of Why-Why; and when his shaven +hair began to show through the clay daubing, the women of the tribe +washed him, and painted him black and white. The indignation of +Why-Why may readily be conceived. Why, he kept asking, should +you shave a fellow’s head, knock out his teeth, cut off his little +finger, daub him with clay, and paint him like a pelican, because he +is fourteen years old? To these radical questions, the braves +(who had all lost their own front teeth) replied, that this was the +custom of their fathers. They tried to console him, moreover, +by pointing out that now he might eat oysters, and catch himself a bride +from some hostile tribe, or give his sister in exchange for a wife. +This was little comfort to Why-Why. He had eaten oysters already +without supernatural punishment, and his sister, as we have seen, had +suffered the extreme penalty of the law. Nor could our hero persuade +himself that to club and carry off a hostile girl in the dark was the +best way to win a loving wife. He remained single, and became +a great eater of oysters.</p> +<h3>THE MANHOOD OF WHY-WHY.</h3> +<p>As time went on our hero developed into one of the most admired braves +of his community. No one was more successful in battle, and it +became almost a proverb that when Why-Why went on the war-path there +was certain to be meat enough and to spare, even for the women. +Why-Why, though a Radical, was so far from perfect that he invariably +complied with the usages of his time when they seemed rational and useful. +If a little tattooing on the arm would have saved men from a horrible +disease, he would have had all the tribe tattooed. He was no bigot. +He kept his word, and paid his debts, for no one was ever very “advanced” +all at once. It was only when the ceremonious or superstitious +ideas of his age and race appeared to him senseless and mischievous +that he rebelled, or at least hinted his doubts and misgivings. +This course of conduct made him feared and hated both by the medicine-men, +or clerical wizards, and by the old women of the tribe. They naturally +tried to take their revenge upon him in the usual way.</p> +<p>A charge of heresy, of course, could not well be made, for in the +infancy of our race there were neither Courts of Arches nor General +Assemblies. But it was always possible to accuse Why-Why of malevolent +witchcraft. The medicine-men had not long to wait for an opportunity. +An old woman died, as old women will, and every one was asking “Who +sent the evil spirit that destroyed poor old Dada?” In Why-Why’s +time no other explanation of natural death by disease or age was entertained. +The old woman’s grave was dug, and all the wizards intently watched +for the first worm or insect that should crawl out of the mould. +The head-wizard soon detected a beetle, making, as he alleged, in the +direction where Why-Why stood observing the proceedings. The wizard +at once denounced our hero as the cause of the old woman’s death. +To have blenched for a moment would have been ruin. But Why-Why +merely lifted his hand, and in a moment a spear flew from it which pinned +his denouncer ignominiously to a pine-tree. The funeral of the +old woman was promptly converted into a free fight, in which there was +more noise than bloodshed. After this event the medicine-men left +Why-Why to his own courses, and waited for a chance of turning public +opinion against the sceptic.</p> +<p>The conduct of Why-Why was certainly calculated to outrage all conservative +feeling. When on the war-path or in the excitement of the chase +he had even been known to address a tribesman by his name, as “Old +Cow,” or “Flying Cloud,” or what not, instead of adopting +the orthodox nomenclature of the classificatory system, and saying, +“Third cousin by the mother’s side, thrice removed, will +you lend me an arrow?” or whatever it might be. On “tabu-days,” +once a week, when the rest of the people in the cave were all silent, +sedentary, and miserable (from some superstitious feeling which we can +no longer understand), Why-Why would walk about whistling, or would +chip his flints or set his nets. He ought to have been punished +with death, but no one cared to interfere with him.</p> +<p>Instead of dancing at the great “corroborees,” or religious +ballets of his people, he would “sit out” with a girl whose +sad, romantic history became fatally interwoven with his own. +In vain the medicine-men assured him that Pund-jel, the great spirit, +was angry. Why-Why was indifferent to the thunder which was believed +to be the voice of Pund-jel. His behaviour at the funeral of a +celebrated brave actually caused what we would call a reformation in +burial ceremonies.</p> +<p>It was usual to lay the corpses of the famous dead in a cave, where +certain of the tribesmen were sent to watch for forty days and nights +the decaying body. This ghastly task was made more severe by the +difficulty of obtaining food. Everything that the watchers were +allowed to eat was cooked outside the cave with complicated ceremonies. +If any part of the ritual was omitted, if a drop or a morsel were spilled, +the whole rite had to be done over again from the beginning. This +was not all. The chief medicine-man took a small portion of the +meat in a long spoon, and entered the sepulchral cavern. In the +dim light he approached one of the watchers of the dead, danced before +him, uttered a mysterious formula of words, and made a shot at the hungry +man’s mouth with a long spoon. If the shot was straight, +if the spoon did not touch the lips or nose or mouth, the watcher made +ready to receive a fresh spoonful. But if the attempt failed, +if the spoon did not go straight to the mark, the mourners were obliged +to wait till all the cooking ceremonies were performed afresh, when +the feeding began again.</p> +<p>Now, Why-why was a mourner whom the chief medicine-man was anxious +to “spite,” as children say, and at the end of three days’ +watching our hero had not received a morsel of food. The spoon +had invariably chanced to miss him. On the fourth night Why-Why +entertained his fellow-watchers with a harangue on the imbecility of +the whole proceeding. He walked out of the cave, kicked the chief +medicine-man into a ravine, seized the pot full of meat, brought it +back with him, and made a hearty meal. The other mourners, half +dead with fear, expected to see the corpse they were “waking” +arise, “girn,” and take some horrible revenge. Nothing +of the sort occurred, and the burials of the cave dwellers gradually +came to be managed in a less irksome way.</p> +<h3>THE LOVES OF VERVA AND WHY-WHY.</h3> +<p>No man, however intrepid, can offend with impunity the most sacred +laws of society. Why-Why proved no exception to this rule. +His decline and fall date, we may almost say, from the hour when he +bought a fair-haired, blue-eyed female child from a member of a tribe +that had wandered out of the far north. The tribe were about to +cook poor little Verva because her mother was dead, and she seemed a +<i>bouche inutile</i>. For the price of a pair of shell fish-hooks, +a bone dagger, and a bundle of grass-string Why-Why (who had a tender +heart) ransomed the child. In the cave she lived an unhappy life, +as the other children maltreated and tortured her in the manner peculiar +to pitiless infancy.</p> +<p>Such protection as a man can give to a child the unlucky little girl +received from Why-Why. The cave people, like most savages, made +it a rule never to punish their children. Why-Why got into many +quarrels because he would occasionally box the ears of the mischievous +imps who tormented poor Verva, the fair-haired and blue-eyed captive +from the north. There grew up a kind of friendship between Why-Why +and the child. She would follow him with dog-like fidelity and +with a stealthy tread when he hunted the red deer in the forests of +the Alpine Maritimes. She wove for him a belt of shells, strung +on stout fibres of grass. In this belt Why-Why would attend the +tribal corroborees, where, as has been said, he was inclined to “sit +out” with Verva and watch, rather than join in the grotesque dance +performed as worship to the Bear.</p> +<p>As Verva grew older and ceased to be persecuted by the children, +she became beautiful in the unadorned manner of that early time. +Her friendship with Why-Why began to embarrass the girl, and our hero +himself felt a quite unusual shyness when he encountered the captive +girl among the pines on the hillside. Both these untutored hearts +were strangely stirred, and neither Why-Why nor Verva could imagine +wherefore they turned pale or blushed when they met, or even when either +heard the other’s voice. If Why-Why had not distrusted and +indeed detested the chief medicine-man, he would have sought that worthy’s +professional advice. But he kept his symptoms to himself, and +Verva also pined in secret.</p> +<p>These artless persons were in love without knowing it.</p> +<p>It is not surprising that they did not understand the nature of their +complaint, for probably before Why-Why no one had ever been in love. +Courtship had consisted in knocking a casual girl on the head in the +dark, and the only marriage ceremony had been that of capture. +Affection on the side of the bride was out of the question, for, as +we have remarked, she was never allowed so much as to see her husband’s +face. Probably the institution of falling in love has been evolved +in, and has spread from, various early centres of human existence. +Among the primitive Ligurian races, however, Why-Why and Verva must +be held the inventors, and, alas! the protomartyrs of the passion. +Love, like murder, “will out,” and events revealed to Why-Why +and Verva the true nature of their sentiments.</p> +<p>It was a considerable exploit of Why-Why’s that brought him +and the northern captive to understand each other. The brother +of Why-Why had died after partaking too freely of a member of a hostile +tribe. The cave people, of course, expected Why-Why to avenge +his kinsman. The brother, they said, must have been destroyed +by a <i>boilya</i> or vampire, and, as somebody must have sent that +vampire against the lad, somebody must be speared for it. Such +are primitive ideas of medicine and justice. An ordinary brave +would have skulked about the dwellings of some neighbouring human groups +till he got a chance of knocking over a child or an old woman, after +which justice and honour would have been satisfied. But Why-Why +declared that, if he must spear somebody, he would spear a man of importance. +The forms of a challenge were therefore notched on a piece of stick, +which was solemnly carried by heralds to the most renowned brave of +a community settled in the neighbourhood of the modern San Remo. +This hero might have very reasonably asked, “Why should I spear +Why-Why because his brother over-ate himself?” The laws +of honour, however (which even at this period had long been established), +forbade a gentleman when challenged to discuss the reasonableness of +the proceeding.</p> +<p>The champions met on a sandy plain beside a little river near the +modern Ventimiglia. An amphitheatre of rock surrounded them, and, +far beyond, the valley was crowned by the ancient snow of an Alpine +peak. The tribes of either party gathered in the rocky amphitheatre, +and breathlessly watched the issue of the battle. Each warrior +was equipped with a shield, a sheaf of spears, and a heavy, pointed +club. At thirty paces distance they began throwing, and the spectators +enjoyed a beautiful exposition of warlike skill. Both men threw +with extreme force and deadly aim; while each defended himself cleverly +with his shield. The spears were exhausted, and but one had pierced +the thigh of Why-Why, while his opponent had two sticking in his neck +and left arm.</p> +<p>Then, like two meeting thunder-clouds, the champions dashed at each +other with their clubs. The sand was whirled up around them as +they spun in the wild dance of battle, and the clubs rattled incessantly +on the heads and shields. Twice Why-Why was down, but he rose +with wonderful agility, and never dropped his shield. A third +time he stooped beneath a tremendous whack, but when all seemed over, +grasped a handful of sand, and flung it right in his enemy’s eyes. +The warrior reeled, blinded and confused, when Why-Why gave point with +the club in his antagonist’s throat; the blood leaped out, and +both fell senseless on the plain.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>When the slow mist cleared from before the eyes of Why-Why he found +himself (he was doubtless the first hero of the many heroes who have +occupied this romantic position) stretched on a grassy bed, and watched +by the blue eyes of Verva. Where were the sand, the stream, the +hostile warrior, the crowds of friends and foes? It was Verva’s +part to explain. The champion of the other tribe had never breathed +after he received the club-thrust, and the chief medicine-man had declared +that Why-Why was also dead. He had suggested that both champions +should be burned in the desolate spot where they lay, that their <i>boilyas</i>, +or ghosts, might not harm the tribes. The lookers-on had gone +to their several and distant caves to fetch fire for the ceremony (they +possessed no means of striking a light), and Verva, unnoticed, had lingered +beside Why-Why, and laid his bleeding head in her lap. Why-Why +had uttered a groan, and the brave girl dragged him from the field into +a safe retreat among the woods not far from the stream. Why-Why +had been principally beaten about the head, and his injuries, therefore, +were slight.</p> +<p>After watching the return of the tribesmen, and hearing the chief +medicine-man explain that Why-Why’s body had been carried away +by “the bad black-fellow with a tail who lives under the earth,” +Why-Why enjoyed the pleasure of seeing his kinsmen and his foes leave +the place to its natural silence. Then he found words, and poured +forth his heart to Verva. They must never be sundered—they +must be man and wife! The girl leaned her golden head on Why-Why’s +dark shoulder, and sniffed at him, for kissing was an institution not +yet evolved. She wept. She had a dreadful thing to tell +him,—that she could never be his. “Look at this mark,” +she said, exposing the inner side of her arm. Why-Why looked, +shuddered, and turned pale. On Verva’s arm he recognized, +almost defaced, the same tattooed badge that wound its sinuous spirals +across his own broad chest and round his manly legs. <i>It was +the mark of the Serpent</i>!</p> +<p>Both were Serpents; both, unknown to Why-Why, though not to Verva, +bore the same name, the same badge, and, if Why-Why had been a religious +man, both would have worshipped the same reptile. Marriage between +them then was a thing accursed; man punished it by death. Why-Why +bent his head and thought. He remembered all his youth—the +murder of his sister for no crime; the killing of the serpent, and how +no evil came of it; the eating of the oysters, and how the earth had +not opened and swallowed him. His mind was made up. It was +absolutely certain that his tribe and Verva’s kin had never been +within a thousand miles of each other. In a few impassioned words +he explained to Verva his faith, his simple creed that a thing was not +necessarily wrong because the medicine-men said so, and the tribe believed +them. The girl’s own character was all trustfulness, and +Why-Why was the person she trusted. “Oh, Why-Why, dear,” +she said blushing (for she had never before ventured to break the tribal +rule which forbade calling any one by his name), “Oh, Why-Why, +you are <i>always</i> right!”</p> +<blockquote><p>And o’er the hills, and far away<br /> + Beyond their utmost purple rim,<br /> +Beyond the night, across the day,<br /> + Through all the world she followed him.</p> +</blockquote> +<h3>LA MORT WHY-WHY.</h3> +<p>Two years had passed like a dream in the pleasant valley which, in +far later ages, the Romans called Vallis Aurea, and which we call Vallauris. +Here, at a distance of some thirty miles from the cave and the tribe, +dwelt in fancied concealment Why-Why and Verva. The clear stream +was warbling at their feet, in the bright blue weather of spring; the +scent of the may blossoms was poured abroad, and, lying in the hollow +of Why-Why’s shield, a pretty little baby with Why-Why’s +dark eyes and Verva’s golden locks was crowing to his mother. +Why-Why sat beside her, and was busily making the first European pipkin +with the clay which he had found near Vallauris. All was peace.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>There was a low whizzing sound, something seemed to rush past Why-Why, +and with a scream Verva fell on her face. A spear had pierced +her breast. With a yell like that of a wounded lion, Why-Why threw +himself on the bleeding body of his bride. For many moments he +heard no sound but her long, loud and unconscious breathing. He +did not mark the yells of his tribesmen, nor feel the spears that rained +down on himself, nor see the hideous face of the chief medicine-man +peering at his own. Verva ceased to breathe. There was a +convulsion, and her limbs were still. Then Why-Why rose. +In his right hand was his famous club, “the watcher of the fords;” +in his left his shield. These had never lain far from his hand +since he fled with Verva.</p> +<p>He knew that the end had come, as he had so often dreamt of it; he +knew that he was trapped and taken by his offended tribesmen. +His first blow shattered the head of the chief medicine-man. Then +he flung himself, all bleeding from the spears, among the press of savages +who started from every lentisk bush and tuft of tall flowering heath. +They gave back when four of their chief braves had fallen, and Why-Why +lacked strength and will to pursue them. He turned and drew Verva’s +body beneath the rocky wall, and then he faced his enemies. He +threw down shield and club and raised his hands. A light seemed +to shine about his face, and his first word had a strange tone that +caught the ear and chilled the heart of all who heard him. “Listen,” +he said, “for these are the last words of Why-Why. He came +like the water, and like the wind he goes, he knew not whence, and he +knows not whither. He does not curse you, for you are that which +you are. But the day will come” (and here Why-Why’s +voice grew louder and his eyes burned), “the day will come when +you will no longer be the slave of things like that dead dog,” +and here he pointed to the shapeless face of the slain medicine-man. +“The day will come, when a man shall speak unto his sister in +loving kindness, and none shall do him wrong. The day will come +when a woman shall unpunished see the face and name the name of her +husband. As the summers go by you will not bow down to the hyænas, +and the bears, and worship the adder and the viper. You will not +cut and bruise the bodies of your young men, or cruelly strike and seize +away women in the darkness. Yes, and the time will be when a man +may love a woman of the same family name as himself”—but +here the outraged religion of the tribesmen could endure no longer to +listen to these wild and blasphemous words. A shower of spears +flew out, and Why-Why fell across the body of Verva. His own was +“like a marsh full of reeds,” said the poet of the tribe, +in a song which described these events, “so thick the spears stood +in it.”</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>When he was dead, the tribe knew what they had lost in Why-Why. +They bore his body, with that of Verva, to the cave; there they laid +the lovers—Why-Why crowned with a crown of sea-shells, and with +a piece of a rare magical substance (iron) at his side. <a name="citation208"></a><a href="#footnote208">{208}</a> +Then the tribesmen withdrew from that now holy ground, and built them +houses, and forswore the follies of the medicine-men, as Why-Why had +prophesied. Many thousands of years later the cave was opened +when the railway to Genoa was constructed, and the bones of Why-Why, +with the crown, and the fragment of iron, were found where they had +been laid by his repentant kinsmen. He had bravely asserted the +rights of the individual conscience against the dictates of Society; +he had lived, and loved, and died, not in vain. Last April I plucked +a rose beside his cave, and laid it with another that had blossomed +at the door of the last house which covered the homeless head of SHELLEY.</p> +<p>The prophecies of Why-Why have been partially fulfilled. Brothers, +if they happen to be on speaking terms, may certainly speak to their +sisters, though we are still, alas, forbidden to marry the sisters of +our deceased wives. Wives <i>may</i> see their husbands, though +in Society, they rarely avail themselves of the privilege. Young +ladies are still forbidden to call young men at large by their Christian +names; but this tribal law, and survival of the classificatory system, +is rapidly losing its force. Burials in the savage manner to which +Why-Why objected, will soon, doubtless, be permitted to conscientious +Nonconformists in the graveyards of the Church of England. The +teeth of boys are still knocked out at public and private schools, but +the ceremony is neither formal nor universal. Our advance in liberty +is due to an army of forgotten Radical martyrs of whom we know less +than we do of Mr. Bradlaugh.</p> +<h2>A DUCHESS’S SECRET.</h2> +<p>When I was poor, and honest, and a novelist, I little thought that +I should ever be rich, and something not very unlike a Duke; and, as +to honesty, but an indifferent character. I have had greatness +thrust on me. I am, like Simpcox in the <i>dramatis personæ</i> +of “Henry IV.,” “an impostor;” and yet I scarcely +know how I could have escaped this deplorable (though lucrative) position. +“Love is a great master,” says the “Mort d’Arthur,” +and I perhaps may claim sympathy and pity as a victim of love. +The following unaffected lines (in which only names and dates are disguised) +contain all the apology I can offer to a censorious world.</p> +<p>Two or three years ago I was dependent on literature for my daily +bread. I was a regular man-of-all-work. Having the advantage +of knowing a clerk in the Foreign Office who went into society (he had +been my pupil at the university), I picked up a good deal of scandalous +gossip, which I published in the <i>Pimlico Postboy</i>, a journal of +fashion. I was also engaged as sporting prophet to the <i>Tipster</i>, +and was not less successful than my contemporaries as a vaticinator +of future events. At the same time I was contributing a novel +(anonymously) to the <i>Fleet Street Magazine</i>, a very respectable +publication, though perhaps a little dull. The editor had expressly +requested me to make things rather more lively, and I therefore gave +my imagination free play in the construction of my plot. I introduced +a beautiful girl, daughter of a preacher in the Shaker community. +Her hand was sought in marriage by a sporting baronet, who had seen +her as he pursued the chase through the pathless glens of the New Forest. +This baronet she married after suffering things intolerable from the +opposition of the Shakers. Here I had a good deal of padding about +Shakers and their ways; and, near the end of the sixth chapter my heroine +became the wife of Sir William Buckley. But the baronet proved +a perfect William Rufus for variegated and versatile blackguardism. +Lady Buckley’s life was made impossible by his abominable conduct. +At this juncture my heroine chanced to be obliged to lunch at a railway +refreshment-room. My last chapter had described the poor lady +lunching lonely in the bleak and gritty waiting room of Swilby Junction, +lonely except for the company of her little boy. I showed how +she fell into a strange and morbid vein of reflection suggested by the +qualities of the local sherry. If she was to live, her lord and +master, Sir W. Buckley, must die! And I described how a fiendish +temptation was whispered to her by the glass of local sherry. +“William’s constitution, strong as it is,” she murmured +inwardly, “could never stand a dozen of that sherry. Suppose +he chanced to partake of it—accidentally—rather late in +the evening.” Amidst these reflections I allowed the December +instalment of “The Baronet’s Wife” to come to a conclusion +in the <i>Fleet Street Magazine</i>. Obviously crime was in the +wind.</p> +<p>It is my habit to read the “Agony Column” (as it is flippantly +called), the second column in the outer sheet of the <i>Times</i>. +Who knows but he may there see something to his advantage; and, besides, +the mysterious advertisements may suggest ideas for plots. One +day I took up the “Agony Column,” as usual, at my club, +and, to my surprise, read the following advertisement:—</p> +<p>“F. S. M.—SHERRY WINE. WRECK OF THE “JINGO.”—WRETCHED +BOY: Stay your unhallowed hand! Would you expose an erring MOTHER’S +secret? Author will please communicate with Messrs. Mantlepiece +and Co., Solicitors, Upton-on-the-Wold.”</p> +<p>As soon as I saw this advertisement, as soon as my eyes fell on “Sherry +Wine” and “Author,” I felt that here was something +for me. “F. S. M.” puzzled me at first, but I read +it <i>Fleet Street Magazine</i>, by a flash of inspiration. “Wretched +Boy” seemed familiar and unappropriate—I was twenty-nine—but +what of that? Of course I communicated with Messrs. Mantlepiece, +saying that I had reason for supposing that I was the “author” +alluded to in the advertisement. As to the words, “Wreck +of the <i>Jingo</i>” they entirely beat me, but I hoped that some +light would be thrown on their meaning by the respectable firm of solicitors. +It did occur to me that if any one had reasons for communicating with +me, it would have been better and safer to address a letter to me, under +cover, to the editor of the <i>Fleet Street Magazine</i>. But +the public have curious ideas on these matters. Two days after +I wrote to Messrs. Mantlepiece I received a very guarded reply, in which +I was informed that their client wished to make my acquaintance, and +that a carriage would await me, if I presented myself at Upton-on-the-Wold +Station, by the train arriving at 5.45 on Friday. Well, I thought +to myself, I may as well do a “week-ending,” as some people +call it, with my anonymous friend as anywhere else. At the same +time I knew that the “carriage” might be hired by enemies +to convey me to the Pauper Lunatic Asylum or to West Ham, the place +where people disappear mysteriously. I might be the victim of +a rival’s jealousy (and many men, novelists of most horrible imaginings, +envied my talents and success), or a Nihilist plot might have drawn +me into its machinery. But I was young, and I thought I would +see the thing out. My journey was unadventurous, if you except +a row with a German, who refused to let me open the window. But +this has nothing to do with my narrative, and is not a false scent to +make a guileless reader keep his eye on the Teuton. Some novelists +permit themselves these artifices, which I think untradesmanlike and +unworthy. When I arrived at Upton, the station-master made a charge +at my carriage, and asked me if I was “The gentleman for the Towers?” +The whole affair was so mysterious that I thought it better to answer +in the affirmative. My luggage (a Gladstone bag) was borne by +four stately and liveried menials to a roomy and magnificent carriage, +in which everything, from the ducal crown on the silver foot-warmers +to the four splendid bays, breathed of opulence, directed and animated +by culture. I dismissed all thoughts of the Pauper Lunatic Asylum +and the Nihilists, and was whirled through miles of park and up an avenue +lighted by electricity. We reached the baronial gateway of the +Towers, a vast Gothic pile in the later manner of Inigo Jones, and a +seneschal stood at the foot of a magnificent staircase to receive me. +I had never seen a seneschal before, but I recognized him by the peeled +white wand he carried, by his great silver chain, and his black velvet +coat and knee-breeches.</p> +<p>“Your lordship’s room,” says the seneschal (obviously +an old and confidential family servant), “is your old one—the +Tapestried Chamber. Her Grace is waiting anxiously for you.”</p> +<p>Then two menials marched, with my Gladstone bag, to the apartment +thus indicated. For me, I felt in a dream, or like a man caught +up into the fairyland of the “Arabian Nights.” “Her +Grace” was all very well—the aristocracy always admired +my fictitious creations; but “Your Lordship!” Why +your Lordship? Then the chilling idea occurred to me that I had +<i>not</i> been “the gentleman for the Towers;” that I was +in the position of the hero of “Happy Thoughts” when he +went to the Duke’s by mistake for the humble home of the Plyte +Frazers. But I was young. “Her Grace” could +not eat me, and I determined, as I said before, to see it out.</p> +<p>I dressed very deliberately, and that process over, was led by the +worthy seneschal into a singular octagonal boudoir, hung with soft dark +blue arras. The only person in the room was a gaunt, middle-aged +lady, in deep mourning. Though I knew no more of the British aristocracy +than Mr. W. D. Howells, of New York, I recognized her for the Duchess +by her nose, which resembled those worn by the duchesses of Mr. Du Maurier. +As soon as we were alone, she rose, drew me to her bosom, much to my +horror, looked at me long and earnestly, and at last exclaimed, “How +changed you are, Percy!” (My name is Thomas—Thomas +Cobson.) Before I could reply, she was pouring out reproaches +on me for having concealed my existence, and revealed in my novel what +she spoke of as “the secret.”</p> +<p>When she grew, not calm, but fatigued, I ventured to ask why she +had conferred on me the honour of her invitation, and how I had been +unfortunate enough to allude to affairs of which I had certainly no +knowledge. Her reply was given with stately dignity. “You +need not pretend,” she said, “to have forgotten what I told +you in this very room, before you left England for an African tour in +the <i>Jingo</i>. I then revealed to you the secret of my life, +the secret of the Duke’s death. Your horror when you heard +how that most unhappy man compelled me to free myself from his tyranny, +by a method which his habits rendered only too easy—in short, +by a dose of cheap sherry, was deep and natural. Oh, Percy, you +did not kiss your mother before starting on your ill-omened voyage. +As soon as I heard of the wreck of the <i>Jingo</i>, and that you were +the only passenger drowned, I recognized an artifice, <i>un vieux truc</i>, +by which you hoped to escape from a mother of whom you were ashamed. +You had only pretended to be the victim of Ocean’s rage! +People who are drowned in novels always <i>do</i> reappear: and, Percy, +your mother is an old novel-reader! My agents have ever since +been on your track, but it was reserved for <i>me</i> to discover the +last of the Birkenheads in the anonymous author of the ‘Baronet’s +Wife.’ That romance, in which you have had the baseness +to use your knowledge of a mother’s guilt as a <i>motif</i> in +your twopenny plot, unveiled to me the secret of your hidden existence. +You must stop the story, or alter the following numbers; you must give +up your discreditable mode of life. Heavens, that a Birkenhead +should be a literary character! And you must resume your place +in my house and in society.”</p> +<p>Here the Duchess of Stalybridge paused; she had quite recovered that +repose of manner and icy <i>hauteur</i> which, I understand, is the +heritage of the house of Birkenhead. For my part, I had almost +lost the modest confidence which is, I believe, hereditary in the family +of Cobson. It was a scene to make the boldest stand aghast. +Here was an unknown lady of the highest rank confessing a dreadful crime +to a total stranger, and recognizing in that stranger her son, and the +heir to an enormous property and a title as old—as old as British +dukedoms, however old they may be. Ouida would have said “heir +to a title older than a thousand centuries,” but I doubt if the +English duke is so ancient as that, or a direct descendant of the Dukes +of Edom mentioned in Holy Writ. I began pouring out an incoherent +flood of evidence to show that I was only Thomas Cobson, and had never +been any one else, but at that moment a gong sounded, and a young lady +entered the room. She also was dressed in mourning, and the Duchess +introduced her to me as my cousin, Miss Birkenhead. “Gwyneth +was a child, Percy,” said my august hostess, “when you went +to Africa.” I shook hands with my cousin with as much composure +as I could assume, for, to tell the truth, I was not only moved by my +recent adventures, but I had on the spot fallen hopelessly in love with +my new relative. It was <i>le coup de foudre</i> of a French writer +on the affections—M. Stendhal. Miss Birkenhead had won my +heart from the first moment of our meeting. Why should I attempt +to describe a psychological experience as rare as instantaneous conversion, +or more so? Miss Birkenhead was tall and dark, with a proud pale +face, and eyes which unmistakably indicated the possession of a fine +sense of humour. Proud pale people seldom look when they first +meet a total stranger—still more a long-lost cousin—as if +they had some difficulty in refraining from mirth. Miss Birkenhead’s +face was as fixed and almost as pure as marble, but I read sympathy +and amusement and kindness in her eyes.</p> +<p>Presently the door opened again, and an elderly man in the dress +of a priest came in. To him I was presented—</p> +<p>“Your old governor, Percy.”</p> +<p>For a moment my unhappy middle-class association made me suppose +that the elderly ecclesiastic was my “old Guv’nor,”—my +father, the late Duke. But an instant’s reflection proved +to me that her Grace meant “tutor” by governor. I +am ashamed to say that I now entered into the spirit of the scene, shook +the holy man warmly by the hand, and quoted a convenient passage from +Horace.</p> +<p>He appeared to fall into the trap, and began to speak of old recollections +of my boyhood.</p> +<p>Stately liveried menials now, greatly to my surprise, brought in +tea. I was just declining tea (for I expected dinner in a few +minutes), when a voice (a sweet low voice) whispered—</p> +<p>“Take some!”</p> +<p>I took some, providentially, as it turned out. Again, I was +declining tea-cake, when I could have sworn I heard the same voice (so +low that it seemed like the admonition of a passing spirit) say—</p> +<p>“Take some!”</p> +<p>I took some, for I was exceedingly hungry; and then the conversation +lapsed, began again vaguely, and lapsed again.</p> +<p>We all know that wretched quarter of an hour, or half hour, which +unpunctual guests make us pass in famine and fatigue while they keep +dinner waiting. Upon my word, we waited till half-past eleven +before dinner was announced. But for the tea, I must have perished; +for, like the butler in Sir George Dasent’s novel, “I likes +my meals regular.”</p> +<p>The Duchess had obviously forgotten all about dinner. There +was a spinning-wheel in the room, and she sat and span like an elderly +Fate. When dinner was announced at last, I began to fear it would +never end. The menu covered <i>both sides</i> of the card. +The Duchess ate little, and “hardly anything was drunk.” +At last the ladies left us, about one in the morning. I saw my +chance, and began judiciously to “draw” the chaplain. +It appeared that the Duchess did not always dine at half-past eleven. +The feast was a movable one, from eight o’clock onwards. +The Duchess and the establishment had got into these habits during the +old Duke’s time. A very strange man the old Duke; rarely +got up till eight in the evening, often prolonged breakfast till next +day.</p> +<p>“But I need not tell <i>you</i> all this, Percy, my old pupil,” +said the chaplain; and he winked as a clergyman ought not to wink.</p> +<p>“My dear sir,” cried I, encouraged by this performance, +“for Heaven’s sake tell me what all this means? In +this so-called nineteenth century, in our boasted age of progress, what +<i>does</i> the Duchess mean by her invitation to me, and by her conduct +at large? Indeed, why is <i>she</i> at large?”</p> +<p>The chaplain drew closer to me. “Did ye ever hear of +a duchess in a madhouse?” said he; and I owned that I never had +met with such an incident in my reading (unless there is one in Webster’s +plays, somewhere).</p> +<p>“Well, then, who is to make a beginning?” asked the priest. +“The Duchess has not a relation in the world but Miss Birkenhead, +the only daughter of a son of the last Duke but one. The late +Duke was a dreadful man, and he turned the poor Duchess’s head +with the life he led her. The drowning of her only son in the +<i>Jingo</i> finished the business. She has got that story about”—(here +he touched the decanter of sherry: I nodded)—“she has got +that story into her head, and she believes her son is alive; otherwise +she is as sane and unimaginative as—as—as Mr. Chaplin,” +said he, with a flash of inspiration. “Happily you are an +honest man, or you seem like one, and won’t take advantage of +her delusion.”</p> +<p>This was all I could get out of the chaplain; indeed, there was no +more to be got. I went to bed, but not to sleep. Next day, +and many other days, I spent wrestling in argument with the Duchess. +I brought her my certificate of baptism, my testamurs in Smalls and +Greats, an old passport, a bill of Poole’s, anything I could think +of to prove my identity. She was obdurate, and only said—“If +you are not Percy, how do you know my secret?” I had in +the meantime to alter the intended course of my novel—“The +Baronet’s Wife.” The Baronet was made to become a +reformed character. But in all those days at the lonely Towers, +and in the intervals of arguing with the poor Duchess, I could not but +meet Gwyneth Birkenhead. We met, not as cousins, for Miss Birkenhead +had only too clearly appreciated the situation from the moment she first +met me. The old seneschal, too, was in the secret; I don’t +know what the rest of the menials thought. They were accustomed +to the Duchess. But if Gwyneth and I did not meet as cousins, +we met as light-hearted young people, in a queer situation, and in a +strange, dismal old house.</p> +<blockquote><p>We could not in the selfsame mansion dwell<br /> + Without some stir of heart, some malady;<br /> +We could not sit at meals but feel how well<br /> + It soothed each to be the other by.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Indeed <i>I</i> could not sit at meals without being gratefully reminded +of Gwyneth’s advice about “taking some” on the night +of my first arrival at the Towers.</p> +<p>These queer happy times ended.</p> +<p>One day a party of archæologists came to visit the Towers. +They were members of a “Society for Badgering the Proprietors +of Old Houses,” and they had been lunching at Upton-on-the-Wold. +After luncheon they invaded the Towers, personally conducted by Mr. +Bulkin, a very learned historian. Bulkin had nearly plucked me +in Modern History, and when I heard his voice afar off I arose and fled +swiftly. Unluckily the Duchess chanced, by an unprecedented accident, +to be in the library, a room which the family never used, and which +was, therefore, exhibited to curious strangers. Into this library +Bulkin precipitated himself, followed by his admirers, and began to +lecture on the family portraits. Beginning with the Crusaders +(painted by Lorenzo Credi) he soon got down to modern times. He +took no notice of the Duchess, whom he believed to be a housekeeper; +but, posting himself between the unfortunate lady and the door, gave +a full account of the career of the late Duke. This was more than +the Duchess (who knew all about the subject of the lecture) could stand; +but Mr. Bulkin, referring her to his own Appendices, finished his address, +and offered the Duchess half-a-crown as he led his troop to other victories. +From this accident the Duchess never recovered. Her spirits, at +no time high, sank to zero, and she soon passed peacefully away. +She left a will in which her personal property (about £40,000 +a year) was bequeathed to Gwyneth, “as my beloved son, Percy, +has enough for his needs,” the revenues of the dukedom of Stalybridge +being about £300,000 per annum before the agricultural depression. +She might well have thought I needed no more. Of course I put +in no claim for these estates, messuages, farms, mines, and so forth, +nor for my hereditary ducal pension of £15,000. But Gwyneth +and I are not uncomfortably provided for, and I no longer contribute +paragraphs of gossip to the <i>Pimlico Postboy</i>, nor yet do I vaticinate +in the columns of the <i>Tipster</i>. Perhaps I ought to have +fled from the Towers the morning after my arrival. And I declare +that I would have fled but for Gwyneth and “Love, that is a great +Master.”</p> +<h2>THE HOUSE OF STRANGE STORIES.</h2> +<p>The House of Strange Stories, as I prefer to call it (though it is +not known by that name in the county), seems the very place for a ghost. +Yet, though so many peoples have dwelt upon its site and in its chambers, +though the ancient Elizabethan oak, and all the queer tables and chairs +that a dozen generations have bequeathed, might well be tenanted by +ancestral spirits, and disturbed by rappings, it is a curious fact that +there is <i>not</i> a ghost in the House of Strange Stories. On +my earliest visit to this mansion, I was disturbed, I own, by a not +unpleasing expectancy. There <i>must</i>, one argued, be a shadowy +lady in green in the bedroom, or, just as one was falling asleep, the +spectre of a Jesuit would creep out of the priest’s hole, where +he was starved to death in the “spacious times of great Elizabeth,” +and would search for a morsel of bread. The priest was usually +starved out, sentinels being placed in all the rooms and passages, till +at last hunger and want of air would drive the wretched man to give +himself up, for the sake of change of wretchedness. Then perhaps +he was hanged, or he “died in our hands,” as one of Elizabeth’s +officers euphemistically put it, when the Jesuit was tortured to death +in the Tower. No “House of Seven Gables” across the +Atlantic can have quite such memories as these, yet, oddly enough, I +do not know of more than one ghost of a Jesuit in all England. +<i>He</i> appeared to a learned doctor in a library, and the learned +doctor described the phantom, not long ago, in the <i>Athenæum</i>.</p> +<p>“Does the priest of your ‘priest-hole’ walk?” +I asked the squire one winter evening in the House of Strange Stories.</p> +<p>Darkness had come to the rescue of the pheasants about four in the +afternoon, and all of us, men and women, were sitting at afternoon tea +in the firelit study, drowsily watching the flicker of the flame on +the black panelling. The characters will introduce themselves, +as they take part in the conversation.</p> +<p>“No,” said the squire, “even the priest does not +walk. Somehow very few of the Jesuits have left ghosts in country +houses. They are just the customers you would expect to ‘walk,’ +but they don’t.”</p> +<p>There is, to be sure, one priestly ghost-story, which you may or +may not know, and I tell it here, though I don’t believe it, just +as I heard it from the Bishop of Dunchester himself. According +to this most affable and distinguished prelate, now no more, he once +arrived in a large country house shortly before dinner-time; he was +led to his chamber, he dressed, and went downstairs. Not knowing +the plan of the house, he found his way into the library, a chamber +lined with the books of many studious generations. Here the learned +bishop remained for a few minutes, when the gong sounded for dinner, +and a domestic, entering the apartment showed the prelate the way to +the drawing-room, where the other guests were now assembled. The +bishop, when the company appeared complete, and was beginning to manœuvre +towards the dining-room, addressed his host (whom we shall call Lord +Birkenhead), and observed that the ecclesiastic had not yet appeared.</p> +<p>“What ecclesiastic?” asked his lordship.</p> +<p>“The priest,” replied the bishop, “whom I met in +the library.”</p> +<p>Upon this Lord Birkenhead’s countenance changed somewhat, and, +with a casual remark, he put the question by. After dinner, when +the ladies had left the men to their wine, Lord Birkenhead showed some +curiosity as to “the ecclesiastic,” and learned that he +had seemed somewhat shy and stiff, yet had the air of a man just about +to enter into conversation.</p> +<p>“At that moment,” said the bishop, “I was summoned +to the drawing-room, and did not at first notice that my friend the +priest had not followed me. He had an interesting and careworn +face,” added the bishop.</p> +<p>“You have certainly seen the family ghost,” said Lord +Birkenhead; “he only haunts the library, where, as you may imagine, +his retirement is but seldom disturbed.” And, indeed, the +habits of the great, in England, are not studious, as a rule.</p> +<p>“Then I must return, Lord Birkenhead, to your library,” +said the bishop, “and that without delay, for this appears to +be a matter in which the services of one of the higher clergy, however +unworthy, may prove of incalculable benefit.”</p> +<p>“If I could only hope,” answered Lord Birkenhead (who +was a Catholic) with a deep sigh, “that his reverence would recognize +Anglican orders!”</p> +<p>The bishop was now, as may be fancied, on his mettle, and without +further parley, retired to the library. The rest of the men awaited +his return, and beguiled the moments of expectation with princely havannas.</p> +<p>In about half an hour the bishop reappeared, and a close observer +might have detected a shade of paleness on his apostolic features, yet +his face was radiant like that of a good man who has performed a good +action. Being implored to relieve the anxiety of the company, +the worthy prelate spoke as follows:</p> +<p>“On entering the library, which was illuminated by a single +lamp, I found myself alone. I drew a chair to the fire, and, taking +up a volume of M. Renan’s which chanced to be lying on the table, +I composed myself to detect the sophistries of this brilliant but unprincipled +writer. Thus, by an effort of will, I distracted myself from that +state of ‘expectant attention’ to which modern science attributes +such phantoms and spectral appearances as can neither be explained away +by a morbid condition of the liver, nor as caused by the common rat +(<i>Mus rattus</i>). I should observe by the way,” said +the learned bishop, interrupting his own narrative, “that scepticism +will in vain attempt to account, by the latter cause, namely rats, for +the spectres, <i>Lemures</i>, <i>simulacra</i>, and haunted houses of +the ancient Greeks and Romans. With these supernatural phenomena, +as they prevailed in Athens and Rome, we are well acquainted, not only +from the <i>Mostellaria</i> of Plautus, but from the numerous ghost-stories +of Pliny, Plutarch, the <i>Philopseudes</i> of Lucian, and similar sources. +But it will at once be perceived, and admitted even by candid men of +science, that these spiritual phenomena of the classical period cannot +plausibly, nor even possibly, be attributed to the agency of rats, when +we recall the fact that the rat was an animal unknown to the ancients. +As the learned M. Sélys Longch observes in his <i>Études +de Micromammalogie</i> (Paris, 1839, p. 59), ‘the origin of the +rat is obscure, the one thing certain is that the vermin was unknown +to the ancients, and that it arrived in Europe, introduced, perhaps, +by the Crusaders, after the Middle Ages.’ I think,” +added the prelate, looking round, not without satisfaction, “that +I have completely disposed of the rat hypothesis, as far, at least, +as the ghosts of classical tradition are concerned.”</p> +<p>“Your reasoning, bishop,” replied Lord Birkenhead, “is +worthy of your reputation; but pray pardon the curiosity which entreats +you to return from the <i>simulacra</i> of the past to the ghost of +the present.”</p> +<p>“I had not long been occupied with M. Renan,” said the +bishop, thus adjured, “when I became aware of the presence of +another person in the room. I think my eyes had strayed from the +volume, as I turned a page, to the table, on which I perceived the brown +strong hand of a young man. Looking up, I beheld my friend the +priest, who was indeed a man of some twenty-seven years of age, with +a frank and open, though somewhat careworn, aspect. I at once +rose, and asked if I could be of service to him in anything, and I trust +I did not betray any wounding suspicion that he was other than a man +of flesh and blood.</p> +<p>“‘You can, indeed, my lord, relieve me of a great burden,’ +said the young man, and it was apparent enough that he <i>did</i> acknowledge +the validity of Anglican orders. ‘Will you kindly take from +the shelf that volume of Cicero “De Officiis,” he said, +pointing to a copy of an Elzevir <i>variorum</i> edition,—not +the small duodecimo Elzevir,—‘remove the paper you will +find there, and burn it in the fire on the hearth.’</p> +<p>“‘Certainly I will do as you say, but will you reward +me by explaining the reason of your request?’</p> +<p>“‘In me,’ said the appearance, ‘you behold +Francis Wilton, priest. I was born in 1657, and, after adventures +and an education with which I need not trouble you, found myself here +as chaplain to the family of the Lord Birkenhead of the period. +It chanced one day that I heard in confession, from the lips of Lady +Birkenhead, a tale so strange, moving, and, but for the sacred circumstances +of the revelation, so incredible, that my soul had no rest for thinking +thereon. At last, neglecting my vow, and fearful that I might +become forgetful of any portion of so marvellous a narrative, I took +up my pen and committed the confession to the security of manuscript. +<i>Litera scripta manet</i>. Scarcely had I finished my unholy +task when the sound of a distant horn told me that the hunt (to which +pleasure I was passionately given) approached the demesne. I thrust +the written confession into that volume of Cicero, hurried to the stable, +saddled my horse with my own hands, and rode in the direction whence +I heard the music of the hounds. On my way a locked gate barred +my progress. I put Rupert at it, he took off badly, fell, and +my spirit passed away in the fall. But not to the place of repose +did my sinful spirit wing its flight. I found myself here in the +library, where, naturally, scarcely any one ever comes except the maids. +When I would implore them to destroy the unholy document that binds +me to earth, they merely scream; nor have I found any scion of the house, +nor any guest, except your lordship, of more intrepid resolution or +more charitable mood. And now, I trust, you will release me.’</p> +<p>“I rose (for I had seated myself during his narrative), my +heart was stirred with pity; I took down the Cicero, and lit on a sheet +of yellow paper covered with faded manuscript, which, of course, I did +not read. I turned to the hearth, tossed on the fire the sere +old paper, which blazed at once, and then, hearing the words <i>pax +vobiscum</i>, I looked round. But I was alone. After a few +minutes, devoted to private ejaculations, I returned to the dining-room; +and that is all my story. Your maids need no longer dread the +ghost of the library. He is released.”</p> +<p>“Will any one take any more wine?” asked Lord Birkenhead, +in tones of deep emotion. “No? Then suppose we join +the ladies.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said one of the ladies, the Girton girl, when +the squire had finished the prelate’s narrative, “<i>I</i> +don’t call that much of a story. What was Lady Birkenhead’s +confession about? That’s what one really wants to know.”</p> +<p>“The bishop could not possibly have read the paper,” +said the Bachelor of Arts, one of the guests; “not as a gentleman, +nor a bishop.”</p> +<p>“I wish <i>I</i> had had the chance,” said the Girton +girl.</p> +<p>“Perhaps the confession was in Latin,” said the Bachelor +of Arts.</p> +<p>The Girton girl disdained to reply to this unworthy sneer.</p> +<p>“I have often observed,” she said in a reflective voice, +“that the most authentic and best attested bogies don’t +come to very much. They appear in a desultory manner, without +any context, so to speak, and, like other difficulties, require a context +to clear up their meaning.”</p> +<p>These efforts of the Girton girl to apply the methods of philology +to spectres, were received in silence. The women did not understand +them, though they had a strong personal opinion about their learned +author.</p> +<p>“The only ghost <i>I</i> ever came across, or, rather, came +within measurable distance of, never appeared at all so far as one knew.”</p> +<p>“Miss Lebas has a story,” said the squire, “Won’t +she tell us her story?”</p> +<p>The ladies murmured, “Do, please.”</p> +<p>“It really cannot be called a ghost-story,” remarked +Miss Lebas, “it was only an uncomfortable kind of coincidence, +and I never think of it without a shudder. But I know there is +not any reason at all why it should make any of <i>you</i> shudder; +so don’t be disappointed.</p> +<p>“It was the Long Vacation before last,” said the Girton +girl, “and I went on a reading-party to Bantry Bay, with Wyndham +and Toole of Somerville, and Clare of Lady Margaret’s. Leighton +coached us.”</p> +<p>“Dear me! With all these young men, my dear?” asked +the maiden aunt.</p> +<p>“They were all women of my year, except Miss Leighton of Newnham, +who was our coach,” answered the Girton girl composedly.</p> +<p>“Dear me! I beg your pardon for interrupting you,” +said the maiden aunt.</p> +<p>“Well, term-time was drawing near, and Bantry Bay was getting +pretty cold, when I received an invitation from Lady Garryowen to stay +with them at Dundellan on my way south. They were two very dear, +old, hospitable Irish ladies, the last of their race, Lady Garryowen +and her sister, Miss Patty. They were <i>so</i> hospitable that, +though I did not know it, Dundellan was quite full when I reached it, +overflowing with young people. The house has nothing very remarkable +about it: a grey, plain building, with remains of the château +about it, and a high park wall. In the garden wall there is a +small round tower, just like those in the precinct wall at St. Andrews. +The ground floor is not used. On the first floor there is a furnished +chamber with a deep round niche, almost a separate room, like that in +Queen Mary’s apartments in Holy Rood. The first floor has +long been fitted up as a bedroom and dressing-room, but it had not been +occupied, and a curious old spinning-wheel in the corner (which has +nothing to do with my story, if you can call it a story), must have +been unused since ’98, at least. I reached Dublin late—our +train should have arrived at half-past six—it was ten before we +toiled into the station. The Dundellan carriage was waiting for +me, and, after an hour’s drive, I reached the house. The +dear old ladies had sat up for me, and I went to bed as soon as possible, +in a very comfortable room. I fell asleep at once, and did not +waken till broad daylight, between seven and eight, when, as my eyes +wandered about, I saw, by the pictures on the wall, and the names on +the books beside my bed, that Miss Patty must have given up her own +room to me. I was quite sorry and, as I dressed, determined to +get her to let me change into any den rather than accept this sacrifice. +I went downstairs, and found breakfast ready, but neither Lady Garryowen +nor Miss Patty. Looking out of the window into the garden, I heard, +for the only time in my life, the wild Irish <i>keen</i> over the dead, +and saw the old nurse wailing and wringing her hands and hurrying to +the house. As soon as she entered she told me, with a burst of +grief, and in language I shall not try to imitate, that Miss Patty was +dead.</p> +<p>“When I arrived the house was so full that there was literally +no room for me. But ‘Dundellan was never beaten yet,’ +the old ladies had said. There was still the room in the tower. +But this room had such an evil reputation for being ‘haunted’ +that the servants could hardly be got to go near it, at least after +dark, and the dear old ladies never dreamed of sending any of their +guests to pass a bad night in a place with a bad name. Miss Patty, +who had the courage of a Bayard, did not think twice. She went +herself to sleep in the haunted tower, and left her room to me. +And when the old nurse went to call her in the morning, she could not +waken Miss Patty. She was dead. Heart-disease, they called +it. Of course,” added the Girton girl, “as I said, +it was only a coincidence. But the Irish servants could not be +persuaded that Miss Patty had not seen whatever the thing was that they +believed to be in the garden tower. I don’t know what it +was. You see the context was dreadfully vague, a mere fragment.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence after the Girton girl’s story.</p> +<p>“I never heard before in my life,” said the maiden aunt, +at last, “of any host or hostess who took the haunted room themselves, +when the house happened to be full. They always send the stranger +within their gates to it, and then pretend to be vastly surprised when +he does not have a good night. I had several bad nights myself +once. In Ireland too.”</p> +<p>“Tell us all about it, Judy,” said her brother, the squire.</p> +<p>“No,” murmured the maiden aunt. “You would +only laugh at me. There was no ghost. I didn’t hear +anything. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t even +<i>smell</i> anything, as they do in that horrid book, ‘The Haunted +Hotel.’”</p> +<p>“Then why had you such bad nights?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I <i>felt</i>” said the maiden aunt, with a little +shudder.</p> +<p>“What did <i>you feel</i>, Aunt Judy?”</p> +<p>“I <i>know</i> you will laugh,” said the maiden aunt, +abruptly entering on her nervous narrative. “I felt all +the time <i>as if somebody was looking through the window</i>. +Now, you know, there <i>couldn’t</i> be anybody. It was +in an Irish country house where I had just arrived, and my room was +on the second floor. The window was old-fashioned and narrow, +with a deep recess. As soon as I went to bed, my dears, I <i>felt</i> +that some one was looking through the window, and meant to come in. +I got up, and bolted the window, though I knew it was impossible for +anybody to climb up there, and I drew the curtains, but I could not +fall asleep. If ever I began to dose, I would waken with a start, +and turn and look in the direction of the window. I did not sleep +all night, and next night, though I was dreadfully tired, it was just +the same thing. So I had to take my hostess into my confidence, +though it was extremely disagreeable, my dears, to seem so foolish. +I only told her that I thought the air, or something, must disagree +with me, for I could not sleep. Then, as some one was leaving +the house that day, she implored me to try another room, where I slept +beautifully, and afterwards had a very pleasant visit. But, the +day I went away, my hostess asked me if I had been kept awake by anything +in particular, for instance, by a feeling that some one was trying to +come in at the window. Well, I admitted that I <i>had</i> a nervous +feeling of that sort, and she said that she was very sorry, and that +every one who lay in the room had exactly the same sensation. +She supposed they must all have heard the history of the room, in childhood, +and forgotten that they had heard it, and then been consciously reminded +of it by reflex action. It seems, my dears, that that is the new +scientific way of explaining all these things, presentiments and dreams +and wraiths, and all that sort of thing. We have seen them before, +and remember them without being aware of it. So I said I’d +never heard the history of the room; but she said I <i>must</i> have, +and so must all the people who felt as if some one was coming in by +the window. And I said that it was rather a curious thing they +should <i>all</i> forget they knew it, and <i>all</i> be reminded of +it without being aware of it, and that, if she did not mind, I’d +like to be reminded of it again. So she said that these objections +had all been replied to (just as clergymen always say in sermons), and +then she told me the history of the room. It only came to this, +that, three generations before, the family butler (whom every one had +always thought a most steady, respectable man), dressed himself up like +a ghost, or like his notion of a ghost, and got a ladder, and came in +by the window to steal the diamonds of the lady of the house, and he +frightened her to death, poor woman! That was all. But, +ever since, people who sleep in the room don’t sleep, so to speak, +and keep thinking that some one is coming in by the casement. +That’s all; and I told you it was not an interesting story, but +perhaps you will find more interest in the scientific explanation of +all these things.”</p> +<p>The story of the maiden aunt, so far as it recounted her own experience, +did not contain anything to which the judicial faculties of the mind +refused assent. Probably the Bachelor of Arts felt that something +a good deal more unusual was wanted, for he instantly started, without +being asked, on the following narrative:—</p> +<p>“I also was staying,” said the Bachelor of Arts, “at +the home of my friends, the aristocracy in Scotland. The name +of the house, and the precise rank in the peerage of my illustrious +host, it is not necessary for me to give. All, however, who know +those more than feudal and baronial halls, are aware that the front +of the castle looks forth on a somewhat narrow drive, bordered by black +and funereal pines. On the night of my arrival at the castle, +although I went late to bed, I did not feel at all sleepy. Something, +perhaps, in the mountain air, or in the vicissitudes of <i>baccarat</i>, +may have banished slumber. I had been in luck, and a pile of sovereigns +and notes lay, in agreeable confusion, on my dressing-table. My +feverish blood declined to be tranquillized, and at last I drew up the +blind, threw open the latticed window, and looked out on the drive and +the pine-wood. The faint and silvery blue of dawn was just wakening +in the sky, and a setting moon hung, with a peculiarly ominous and wasted +appearance, above the crests of the forest. But conceive my astonishment +when I beheld, on the drive, and right under my window, a large and +well-appointed hearse, with two white horses, with plumes complete, +and attended by mutes, whose black staffs were tipped with silver that +glittered pallid in the dawn.</p> +<p>I exhausted my ingenuity in conjectures as to the presence of this +remarkable vehicle with the white horses, so unusual, though, when one +thinks of it, so appropriate to the chariot of Death. Could some +belated visitor have arrived in a hearse, like the lady in Miss Ferrier’s +novel? Could one of the domestics have expired, and was it the +intention of my host to have the body thus honourably removed without +casting a gloom over his guests?</p> +<p>Wild as these hypotheses appeared, I could think of nothing better, +and was just about to leave the window, and retire to bed, when the +driver of the strange carriage, who had hitherto sat motionless, turned, +and looked me full in the face. Never shall I forget the appearance +of this man, whose sallow countenance, close-shaven dark chin, and small, +black moustache, combined with I know not what of martial in his air, +struck into me a certain indefinable alarm. No sooner had he caught +my eye, than he gathered up his reins, just raised his whip, and started +the mortuary vehicle at a walk down the road. I followed it with +my eyes till a bend in the avenue hid it from my sight. So wrapt +up was my spirit in the exercise of the single sense of vision that +it was not till the hearse became lost to view that I noticed the entire +absence of sound which accompanied its departure. Neither had +the bridles and trappings of the white horses jingled as the animals +shook their heads, nor had the wheels of the hearse crashed upon the +gravel of the avenue. I was compelled by all these circumstances +to believe that what I had looked upon was not of this world, and, with +a beating heart, I sought refuge in sleep.</p> +<p>“Next morning, feeling far from refreshed, I arrived among +the latest at a breakfast which was a desultory and movable feast. +Almost all the men had gone forth to hill, forest, or river, in pursuit +of the furred, finned, or feathered denizens of the wilds—”</p> +<p>“You speak,” interrupted the schoolboy, “like a +printed book! I like to hear you speak like that. Drive +on, old man! Drive on your hearse!”</p> +<p>The Bachelor of Arts “drove on,” without noticing this +interruption. “I tried to ‘lead up’ to the hearse,” +he said, “in conversation with the young ladies of the castle. +I endeavoured to assume the languid and preoccupied air of the guest +who, in ghost-stories, has had a bad night with the family spectre. +I drew the conversation to the topic of apparitions, and even to warnings +of death. I knew that every family worthy of the name has its +omen: the Oxenhams a white bird, another house a brass band, whose airy +music is poured forth by invisible performers, and so on. Of course +I expected some one to cry, ‘Oh, <i>we’ve</i> got a hearse +with white horses,’ for that is the kind of heirloom an ancient +house regards with complacent pride. But nobody offered any remarks +on the local omen, and even when I drew near the topic of <i>hearses</i>, +one of the girls, my cousin, merely quoted, ‘Speak not like a +death’s-head, good Doll’ (my name is Adolphus), and asked +me to play at lawn-tennis.</p> +<p>In the evening, in the smoking-room, it was no better, nobody had +ever heard of an omen in this particular castle. Nay, when I told +my story, for it came to that at last, they only laughed at me, and +said I must have dreamed it. Of course I expected to be wakened +in the night by some awful apparition, but nothing disturbed me. +I never slept better, and hearses were the last things I thought of +during the remainder of my visit. Months passed, and I had almost +forgotten the vision, or dream, for I began to feel apprehensive that, +after all, it <i>was</i> a dream. So costly and elaborate an apparition +as a hearse with white horses and plumes complete, could never have +been got up, regardless of expense, for one occasion only, and to frighten +one undergraduate, yet it was certain that the hearse was not ‘the +old family coach.’ My entertainers had undeniably never +heard of it in their lives before. Even tradition at the castle +said nothing of a spectral hearse, though the house was credited with +a white lady deprived of her hands, and a luminous boy.</p> +<p>Here the Bachelor of Arts paused, and a shower of chaff began.</p> +<p>“Is that really all?” asked the Girton girl.</p> +<p>“Why, this is the third ghost-story to-night without any ghost +in it!”</p> +<p>“I don’t remember saying that it <i>was</i> a ghost-story,” +replied the Bachelor of Arts; “but I thought a little anecdote +of a mere ‘warning’ might not be unwelcome.”</p> +<p>“But where does the warning come in?” asked the schoolboy.</p> +<p>“That’s just what I was arriving at,” replied the +narrator, “when I was interrupted with as little ceremony as if +I had been Mr. Gladstone in the middle of a most important speech. +I was going to say that, in the Easter Vacation after my visit to the +castle, I went over to Paris with a friend, a fellow of my college. +We drove to the <i>Hôtel d’Alsace</i> (I believe there is +no hotel of that name; if there is, I beg the spirited proprietor’s +pardon, and assure him that nothing personal is intended). We +marched upstairs with our bags and baggage, and jolly high stairs they +were. When we had removed the soil of travel from our persons, +my friend called out to me, ‘I say, Jones, why shouldn’t +we go down by the lift.’ <a name="citation256"></a><a href="#footnote256">{256}</a> +‘All right,’ said I, and my friend walked to the door of +the mechanical apparatus, opened it, and got in. I followed him, +when the porter whose business it is to ‘personally conduct’ +the inmates of the hotel, entered also, and was closing the door.</p> +<p>“His eyes met mine, and I knew him in a moment. I had +seen him once before. His sallow face, black, closely shaven chin, +furtive glance, and military bearing, were the face and the glance and +bearing of the driver of that awful hearse!</p> +<p>“In a moment—more swiftly than I can tell you—I +pushed past the man, threw open the door, and just managed, by a violent +effort, to drag my friend on to the landing. Then the lift rose +with a sudden impulse, fell again, and rushed, with frightful velocity, +to the basement of the hotel, whence we heard an appalling crash, followed +by groans. We rushed downstairs, and the horrible spectacle of +destruction that met our eyes I shall never forget. The unhappy +porter was expiring in agony; but the warning had saved my life and +my friend’s.”</p> +<p>“<i>I</i> <i>was that friend</i>,” said I—the collector +of these anecdotes; “and so far I can testify to the truth of +Jones’s story.”</p> +<p>At this moment, however, the gong for dressing sounded, and we went +to our several apartments, after this emotional specimen of “Evenings +at Home.”</p> +<h2>IN CASTLE PERILOUS.</h2> +<p>“What we suffer from most,” said the spectre, when I +had partly recovered from my fright, “is a kind of <i>aphasia</i>.”</p> +<p>The spectre was sitting on the armchair beside my bed in the haunted +room of Castle Perilous.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” said I, as distinctly as the chattering +of my teeth would permit, “that I quite follow you. Would +you mind—excuse me—handing me that flask which lies on the +table near you. . . . Thanks.”</p> +<p>The spectre, without stirring, so arranged the <i>a priori</i> sensuous +schemata of time and space <a name="citation261"></a><a href="#footnote261">{261}</a> +that the silver flask, which had been well out of my reach, was in my +hand. I poured half the contents into a cup and offered it to +him.</p> +<p>“No spirits,” he said curtly.</p> +<p>I swallowed eagerly the heady liquor, and felt a little more like +myself.</p> +<p>“You were complaining,” I remarked, “of something +like <i>aphasia</i>?”</p> +<p>“I was,” he replied. “You know what <i>aphasia</i> +is in the human subject? A paralysis of certain nervous centres, +which prevents the patient, though perfectly sane, from getting at the +words which he intends to use, and forces others upon him. He +may wish to observe that it is a fine morning, and may discover that +his idea has taken the form of an observation about the Roman Calendar +under the Emperor Justinian. That is <i>aphasia</i>, and we suffer +from what, I presume, is a spiritual modification of that disorder.”</p> +<p>“Yet to-night,” I responded, “you are speaking +like a printed book.”</p> +<p>“To-night,” said the spectre, acknowledging the compliment +with a bow, “the conditions are peculiarly favourable.”</p> +<p>“Not to <i>me</i>,” I thought, with a sigh.</p> +<p>“And I am able to manifest myself with unusual clearness.”</p> +<p>“Then you are not always in such form as I am privileged to +find you in?” I inquired.</p> +<p>“By no means,” replied the spectre. “Sometimes +I cannot appear worth a cent. Often I am invisible to the naked +eye, and even quite indiscernible by any of the senses. Sometimes +I can only rap on the table, or send a cold wind over a visitor’s +face, or at most pull off his bedclothes (like the spirit which appeared +to Caligula, and is mentioned by Suetonius) and utter hollow groans.”</p> +<p>“That’s exactly what you <i>did</i>,” I said, “when +you wakened me. I thought I should have died.”</p> +<p>“I can’t say how distressed I am,” answered the +spectre. “It is just an instance of what I was trying to +explain. We don’t know how we are going to manifest ourselves.”</p> +<p>“Don’t apologize,” I replied, “for a constitutional +peculiarity. To what do you attribute your success to night?”</p> +<p>“Partly to your extremely receptive condition, partly to the +whisky you took in the smoking-room, but chiefly to the magnetic environment.”</p> +<p>“Then you do not suffer at all from <i>aphasia</i> just now?”</p> +<p>“Not a touch of it at this moment, thank you; but, as a rule, +we all <i>do</i> suffer horribly. This accounts for everything +that you embodied spirits find remarkable and enigmatic in our conduct. +We <i>mean</i> something, straight enough; but our failure is in expression. +Just think how often you go wrong yourselves, though <i>your</i> spirits +have a brain to play on, like the musician with a piano. Now <i>we</i> +have to do as well as we can without any such mechanical advantage as +a brain of cellular tissue”—here he suddenly took the form +of a white lady with a black sack over her head, and disappeared in +the wainscot.</p> +<p>“Excuse me,” he said a moment afterwards, quite in his +ordinary voice, “I had a touch of it, I fancy. I lost the +thread of my argument, and am dimly conscious of having expressed myself +in some unusual and more or less incoherent fashion. I hope it +was nothing at all vulgar or distressing?”</p> +<p>“Nothing out of the way in haunted houses, I assure you,” +I replied, “merely a white lady with a black sack over her head.”</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>that</i> was it,” he answered with a sigh; “I +often am afflicted in that way. Don’t mind me if I turn +into a luminous boy, or a very old man in chains, or a lady in a green +gown and high-heeled shoes, or a headless horseman, or a Mauth hound, +or anything of that sort. They are all quite imperfect expressions +of our nature,—symptoms, in short, of the malady I mentioned.”</p> +<p>“Then the appalling manifestations to which you allude are +not the apparitions of the essential ghost? It is not in those +forms that he appears among his friends?”</p> +<p>“Certainly not,” said the spectre; “and it would +be very promotive of good feeling between men and disembodied spirits +if this were more generally known. I myself—”</p> +<p>Here he was interrupted by an attack of spirit rappings. A +brisk series of sharp faint taps, of a kind I never heard before, resounded +from all the furniture of the room. <a name="citation265"></a><a href="#footnote265">{265}</a> +While the disturbance continued, the spectre drummed nervously with +his fingers on his knee. The sounds ended as suddenly as they +had begun, and he expressed his regrets. “It is a thing +I am subject to,” he remarked; “nervous, I believe, but, +to persons unaccustomed to it, alarming.”</p> +<p>“It <i>is</i> rather alarming,” I admitted.</p> +<p>“A mere fit of sneezing,” he went on; “but you +are now able to judge, from the events of to-night, how extremely hard +it is for us, with the best intentions, to communicate coherently with +the embodied world. Why, there is the Puddifant ghost—in +Lord Puddifant’s family, you know: <i>he</i> has been trying for +generations to inform his descendants that the drainage of the castle +is execrable. Yet he can never come nearer what he means than +taking the form of a shadowy hearse-and-four, and driving round and +round Castle Puddifant at midnight. And old Lady Wadham’s +ghost, what a sufferer that woman is! She merely desires to remark +that the family diamonds, lost many years ago, were never really taken +abroad by the valet and sold. He only had time to conceal them +in a secret drawer behind the dining-room chimney-piece. Now she +can get no nearer expressing herself than producing a spirited imitation +of the music of the bagpipes, which wails up and down the house, and +frightens the present Sir Robert Wadham and his people nearly out of +their wits. And that’s the way with almost all of us: there +is literally no connection (as a rule) between our expressions and the +things we intend to express. You know how the Psychical Society +make quite a study of rappings, and try to interpret them by the alphabet? +Well, these, as I told you, are merely a nervous symptom; annoying, +no doubt, but not dangerous. The only spectres, almost, that manage +to hint what they really mean are Banshees.”</p> +<p>“<i>They</i> intend to herald an approaching death?” +I asked.</p> +<p>“They do, and abominably bad taste I call it, unless a man +has neglected to insure his life, and <i>then</i> I doubt if a person +of honour could make use of information from—from that quarter. +Banshees are chiefly the spectres of attached and anxious old family +nurses, women of the lower orders, and completely destitute of tact. +I call a Banshee rather a curse than a boon and a blessing to men. +Like most old family servants, they are apt to be presuming.”</p> +<p>It occurred to me that the complacent spectre himself was not an +unmixed delight to the inhabitants of Castle Perilous, or at least to +their guests, for they never lay in the Green Chamber themselves.</p> +<p>“Can nothing be done,” I asked sympathetically, “to +alleviate the disorders which you say are so common and distressing?”</p> +<p>“The old system of spiritual physic,” replied the spectre, +“is obsolete, and the holy-water cure, in particular, has almost +ceased to number any advocates, except the Rev. Dr F. G. Lee, whose +books,” said this candid apparition, “appear to me to indicate +superstitious credulity. No, I don’t know that any new discoveries +have been made in this branch of therapeutics. In the last generation +they tried to bolt me with a bishop: like putting a ferret into a rabbit-warren, +you know. Nothing came of <i>that</i>, and lately the Psychical +Society attempted to ascertain my weight by an ingenious mechanism. +But they prescribed nothing, and made me feel so nervous that I was +rapping at large, and knocking furniture about for months. The +fact is that nobody understands the complaint, nor can detect the cause +that makes the ghost of a man who was perfectly rational in life behave +like an uneducated buffoon afterwards. The real reason, as I have +tried to explain to you, is a solution of continuity between subjective +thought and will on the side of the spectre, and objective expression +of them—confound it—”</p> +<p>Here he vanished, and the sound of heavy feet was heard promenading +the room, and balls of incandescent light floated about irresolutely, +accompanied by the appearance of a bearded man in armour. The +door (which I had locked and bolted before going to bed) kept opening +and shutting rapidly, so as to cause a draught, and my dog fled under +the bed with a long low howl.</p> +<p>“I do hope,” remarked the spectre, presently reappearing, +“that these interruptions (only fresh illustrations of our malady) +have not frightened your dog into a fit. I have known very valuable +and attached dogs expire of mere unreasoning terror on similar unfortunate +occasions.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure I don’t wonder at it,” I replied; +“but I believe Bingo is still alive; in fact, I hear him scratching +himself.”</p> +<p>“Would you like to examine him?” asked the spectre.</p> +<p>“Oh, thanks, I am sure he is all right,” I answered (for +nothing in the world would have induced me to get out of bed while he +was in the room). “Do you object to a cigarette?”</p> +<p>“Not at all, not at all; but Lady Perilous, I assure you, is +a very old fashioned châtelaine. However, if <i>you</i> +choose to risk it—”</p> +<p>I found my cigarette-case in my hand, opened it, and selected one +of its contents, which I placed between my lips. As I was looking +round for a match-box, the spectre courteously put his forefinger to +the end of the cigarette, which lighted at once.</p> +<p>“Perhaps you wonder,” he remarked, “why I remain +at Castle Perilous, the very one of all my places which I never could +bear while I was alive—as you call it?”</p> +<p>“I had a delicacy about asking,” I answered.</p> +<p>“Well,” he continued, “I am the family genius.”</p> +<p>“I might have guessed <i>that</i>,” I said.</p> +<p>He bowed and went on. “It is hereditary in our house, +and I hold the position of genius till I am relieved. For example, +when the family want to dig up the buried treasure under the old bridge, +I thunder and lighten and cause such a storm that they desist.”</p> +<p>“Why on earth do you do <i>that</i>?” I asked. +“It seems hardly worth while to have a genius at all.”</p> +<p>“In the interests of the family morality. The money would +soon go on the turf, and on dice, drink, etc., if they excavated it; +and then I work the curse, and bring off the prophecies, and so forth.”</p> +<p>“What prophecies?”</p> +<p>“Oh, the rigmarole the old family seer came out with before +they burned him for an unpalatable prediction at the time of the ’15. +He was very much vexed about it, of course, and he just prophesied any +nonsense of a disagreeable nature that came into his head. You +know what these crofter fellows are—ungrateful, vindictive rascals. +He had been in receipt of outdoor relief for years. Well, he prophesied +stuff like this: ‘When the owl and the eagle meet on the same +blasted rowan tree, then a lassie in a white hood from the east shall +make the burn of Cross-cleugh run full red,’ and drivel of that +insane kind. Well, you can’t think what trouble that particular +prophecy gave me. It had to be fulfilled, of course, for the family +credit, and I brought it off as near as, I flatter myself, it could +be done.”</p> +<p>“Lady Perilous was telling me about it last night,” I +said, with a shudder. “It was a horrible affair,”</p> +<p>“Yes, no doubt, no doubt; a cruel business! But how I +am to manage some of them I’m sure <i>I</i> don’t know. +There’s one of them in rhyme. Let me see, how does it go?</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘When Mackenzie lies in the perilous ha’,<br /> +The wild Red Cock on the roof shall craw,<br /> +And the lady shall flee ere the day shall daw,<br /> +And the land shall girn in the deed man’s thraw.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“The ‘crowing of the wild Red Cock’ means that +the castle shall be burned down, of course (I’m beginning to know +his style by this time), and the lady is to elope, and the laird—that’s +Lord Perilous—is to expire in the ‘deed man’s thraw’: +that is the name the old people give the Secret Room. And all +this is to happen when a Mackenzie, a member of a clan with which we +are at feud, sleeps in the Haunted Chamber—where we are just now. +By the way, what is <i>your</i> name?”</p> +<p>I don’t know what made me reply, “Allan Mackenzie.” +It was true, but it was not politic.</p> +<p>“By Jove!” said the spectre, eagerly. “Here’s +a chance! I don’t suppose a Mackenzie has slept here for +those hundred years. And now, how is it to be done? Setting +fire to the castle is simple”—here I remembered how he had +lighted my cigarette—“but who on earth is to elope with +Lady Perilous? She’s fifty if she’s a day, and evangelical +<i>à tout casser</i>! Oh no; the thing is out of the question. +It really must be put off for another generation or two. There +is no hurry.”</p> +<p>I felt a good deal relieved. He was clearly a being of extraordinary +powers, and might, for anything I knew, have made <i>me</i> run away +with Lady Perilous. And then, when the pangs of remorse began +to tell on her ladyship, never a very lively woman at the best of times—However, +the spectre seemed to have thought better of it.</p> +<p>“Don’t you think it is rather hard on a family,” +I asked, “to have a family genius, and prophecies, and a curse, +and—”</p> +<p>“And everything handsome about them,” he interrupted +me by exclaiming; “and you call yourself a Mackenzie of Megasky! +What has become of family pride? Why, you yourselves have Gruagach +of the Red Hand in the hall, and he, I can tell you, is a very different +sort of spectre from <i>me</i>. Pre-Christian, you know—one +of the oldest ghosts in Ross-shire. But as to ‘hard on a +family,’ why, <i>noblesse oblige</i>.”</p> +<p>“Considering that you are the family genius, you don’t +seem to have brought them much luck,” I put in, for the house +of Perilous is neither rich in gold nor very distinguished in history.</p> +<p>“Yes, but just think what they would have been without a family +genius, if they are what they are with one! Besides, the prophecies +are really responsible,” he added, with the air of one who says, +“I have a partner—Mr. Jorkins.”</p> +<p>“Do you mind telling me one thing?” I asked eagerly. +“What is the mystery of the Secret Chamber—I mean the room +whither the heir is taken when he comes of age, and he never smiles +again, nor touches a card except at baccarat?”</p> +<p>“Never smiles <i>again</i>!” said the spectre. +“Doesn’t he? Are you quite certain that he ever smiled +<i>before</i>?”</p> +<p>This was a new way of looking at the question, and rather disconcerted +me.</p> +<p>“I did not know the Master of Perilous before he came of age,” +said I; “but I have been here for a week, and watched him and +Lord Perilous, and I never observed a smile wander over their lips. +And yet little Tompkins” (he was the chief social buffoon of the +hour) “has been in great force, and I may say that I myself have +occasionally provoked a grin from the good-natured.”</p> +<p>“That’s just it,” said the spectre. “The +Perilouses have no sense of humour—never had. I am entirely +destitute of it myself. Even in Scotland, even <i>here</i>, this +family failing has been remarked—been the subject, I may say, +of unfavourable comment. The Perilous of the period lost his head +because he did not see the point of a conundrum of Macbeth’s. +We felt, some time in the fifteenth century, that this peculiarity needed +to be honourably accounted for, and the family developed that story +of the Secret Chamber, and the Horror in the house. There is nothing +in the chamber whatever,—neither a family idiot aged three hundred +years, nor a skeleton, nor the devil, nor a wizard, nor missing title-deeds. +The affair is a mere formality to account creditably for the fact that +we never see anything to laugh at—never see the joke. Some +people can’t see ghosts, you know” (lucky people! thought +I), “and some can’t see jokes.”</p> +<p>“This is very disappointing,” I said.</p> +<p>“I can’t help it,” said the spectre; “the +truth often is. Did you ever hear the explanation of the haunted +house in Berkeley Square?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I. “The bell was heard to ring +thrice with terrific vehemence, and on rushing to the fatal scene they +found him beautiful in death.”</p> +<p>“Fudge!” replied the spectre. “The lease +and furniture were left to an old lady, who was not to underlet the +house nor sell the things. She had a house of her own in Albemarle +Street which she preferred, and so the house in Berkeley Square was +never let till the lease expired. That’s the whole affair. +The house was empty, and political economists could conceive no reason +for the waste of rent except that it was haunted. The rest was +all Miss Broughton’s imagination, in ‘Tales for Christmas +Eve.’”</p> +<p>He had evidently got on his hobby, and was beginning to be rather +tedious. The contempt which a genuine old family ghost has for +mere <i>parvenus</i> and impostors is not to be expressed in mere words +apparently, for Mauth-hounds of prodigious size and blackness, with +white birds, and other disastrous omens, now began to display themselves +profusely in the Haunted Chamber. Accustomed as I had become to +regard all these appearances as mere automatic symptoms, I confess that +I heard with pleasure the crow of a distant cock.</p> +<p>“You have enabled me to pass a most instructive evening, most +agreeable, too, I am sure,” I remarked to the spectre, “but +you will pardon me for observing that the first cock has gone. +Don’t let me make you too late for any appointment you may have +about this time—anywhere.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you still believe in that old superstition about cock-crow, +do you?” he sneered. “‘I thought you had been +too well educated. ‘It faded on the crowing of the cock,’ +did it, indeed, and that in Denmark too,—almost within the Arctic +Circle! Why, in those high latitudes, and in summer, a ghost would +not have an hour to himself on these principles. Don’t you +remember the cock Lord Dufferin took North with him, which crowed at +sunrise, and ended by crowing without intermission and going mad, when +the sun did not set at all? You must observe that any rule of +that sort about cock-crow would lead to shocking irregularities, and +to an early-closing movement for spectres in summer, which would be +ruinous to business—simply ruinous—and, in these days of +competition, intolerable.”</p> +<p>This was awful, for I could see no way of getting rid of him. +He might stay to breakfast, or anything.</p> +<p>“By the way,” he asked, “who does the Cock at the +Lyceum just now? It is a small but very exacting part—‘Act +I. scene I. Cock crows.’”</p> +<p>“I believe Mr. Irving has engaged a real fowl, to crow at the +right moment behind the scenes,” I said. “He is always +very particular about these details. Quite right too. ‘The +Cock, by kind permission of the Aylesbury Dairy Company,’ is on +the bills. They have no Cock at the Français; Mounet Sully +would not hear of it.”</p> +<p>I knew nothing about it, but if this detestable spectre was going +to launch out concerning art and the drama there would be no sleep for +me.</p> +<p>“Then the glow-worm,” he said—“have they +a real glow-worm for the Ghost’s ‘business’ (Act I. +scene 5) when he says?—</p> +<blockquote><p> “‘Fare +thee well at once,<br /> +The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,<br /> +And ’gins to pale his ineffectual fire.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Did it ever strike you how inconsistent that is? Clearly the +ghost appeared in winter; don’t you remember how they keep complaining +of the weather?</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘For this relief much thanks; ’tis +bitter cold,’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘The air bites shrewdly: it is very cold.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Horatio blows on his hands to warm them, at the Français,” +I interrupted.</p> +<p>“Quite right; good business,” said he; “and yet +they go on about the glow-worms in the neighbourhood! Most incongruous. +How does Furnivall take it? An interpolation by Middleton?”</p> +<p>I don’t like to be rude, but I admit that I hate being bothered +about Shakespeare, and I yawned.</p> +<p>“Good night,” he said snappishly, and was gone.</p> +<p>Presently I heard him again, just as I was dropping into a doze.</p> +<p>“You won’t think, in the morning, that this was all a +dream, will you? Can I do anything to impress it on your memory? +Suppose I shrivel your left wrist with a touch of my hand? Or +shall I leave ‘a sable score of fingers four’ burned on +the table? Something of that sort is usually done.”</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>pray</i> don’t take the trouble,” I said. +“I’m sure Lady Perilous would not like to have the table +injured, and she might not altogether believe my explanation. +As for myself, I’ll be content with your word for it that you +were really here. Can I bury your bones for you, or anything? +Very well, as you <i>must</i> be off, good night!”</p> +<p>“No, thanks,” he replied. “By the way, I’ve +had an idea about my apparitions in disguise. Perhaps it is my +‘Unconscious Self’ that does them. You have read about +the ‘Unconscious Self’ in the <i>Spectator</i>?”</p> +<p>Then he really went.</p> +<p>A nun in grey, who moaned and wrung her hands, remained in the room +for a short time, but was obviously quite automatic.</p> +<p>I slept till the hot water was brought in the morning.</p> +<h2>THE GREAT GLADSTONE MYTH. <a name="citation283"></a><a href="#footnote283">{283}</a></h2> +<p>In the post-Christian myths of the Teutonic race settled in England, +no figure appears more frequently and more mysteriously than that of +Gladstone or Mista Gladstone. To unravel the true germinal conception +of Gladstone, and to assign to all the later accretions of myth their +<i>provenance</i> and epoch, are the problems attempted in this chapter. +It is almost needless (when we consider the perversity of men and the +lasting nature of prejudice) to remark that some still see in Gladstone +a shadowy historical figure. Just as our glorious mythical Bismarck +has been falsely interpreted as the shadowy traditional Arminius (the +Arminius of Tacitus, not of Leo Adolescens), projected on the mists +of the Brocken, so Gladstone has been recognized as a human hero of +the Fourth Dynasty. In this capacity he has been identified with +Gordon (probably the north wind), with Spurgeon, <a name="citation284"></a><a href="#footnote284">{284}</a> +whom I have elsewhere shown to be a river god, and with Livingstone. +In the last case the identity of the suffix “stone,” and +the resemblance of the ideas of “joy” and of “vitality,” +lend some air of speciousness to a fundamental error. Livingstone +is <i>ohne zweifel</i>, a mythical form of the midnight sun, now fabled +to wander in the “Dark Continent,” as Bishop of Natal, the +land of the sun’s birthplace, now alluded to as lost in the cloud-land +of comparative mythology. Of all these cobwebs spun by the spiders +of sciolism, the Euhemeristic or Spencerian view—that Gladstone +is an historical personage—has attracted most attention. +Unluckily for its advocates, the whole contemporary documents of the +Victorian Dynasty have perished. When an over-educated and over-rated +populace, headed by two mythical figures, Wat Tyler and one Jo, <a name="citation285a"></a><a href="#footnote285a">{285a}</a> +rose in fury against the School Boards and the Department, they left +nothing but tattered fragments of the literature of the time. +Consequently we are forced to reconstruct the Gladstonian myth by the +comparative method—that is, by comparing the relics of old Ritual +treatises, hymns, imprecations, and similar religious texts, with works +of art, altars, and statues, and with popular traditions and folklore. +The results, again, are examined in the light of the Vedas, the Egyptian +monuments, and generally of everything that, to the unscientific eye, +seems most turbidly obscure in itself, and most hopelessly remote from +the subject in hand. The aid of Philology will not be rejected +because Longus, or Longinus, has <a name="citation285b"></a><a href="#footnote285b">{285b}</a> +meanly argued that her services must be accepted with cautious diffidence. +On the contrary, Philology is the only real key to the labyrinths of +post-Christian myth.</p> +<p>The philological analysis of the name of Gladstone is attempted, +with very various results, by Roth, Kuhn, Schwartz, and other contemporary +descendants of the old scholars. Roth finds in “Glad” +the Scotch word “gled,” a hawk or falcon. He then +adduces the examples of the Hawk-Indra, from the Rig Veda, and of the +Hawk-headed Osiris, both of them indubitably personifications of the +sun. On the other hand, Kuhn, with Schwartz, fixes his attention +on the suffix “stone,” and quotes, from a fragment attributed +to Shakespeare, “the all-dreaded thunder-stone.” Schwartz +and Kuhn conclude, in harmony with their general system, that Gladstone +is really and primarily the thunderbolt, and secondarily the spirit +of the tempest. They quote an isolated line from an early lay +about the “Pilot who weathered the storm,” which they apply +to Gladstone in his human or political aspect, when the storm-spirit +had been anthropomorphised, and was regarded as an ancestral politician. +But such scanty folklore as we possess assures us that the storm, on +the other hand, weathered Gladstone; and that the poem quoted refers +to quite another person, also named William, and probably identical +with William Tell—that is, with the sun, which of course brings +us back to Roth’s view of the hawk, or solar Gladstone, though +this argument in his own favour has been neglected by the learned mythologist. +He might also, if he cared, adduce the solar stone of Delphi, fabled +to have been swallowed by Cronus. Kuhn, indeed, lends an involuntary +assent to this conclusion (<i>Ueber Entwick. der Myth</i>.) when he +asserts that the stone swallowed by Cronus was the setting sun. +Thus we have only to combine our information to see how correct is the +view of Roth, and how much to be preferred to that of Schwartz and Kuhn. +Gladstone, philologically considered, is the “hawkstone,” +combining with the attributes of the Hawk-Indra and Hawk-Osiris those +of the Delphian sun-stone, which we also find in the Egyptian Ritual +for the Dead. <a name="citation287"></a><a href="#footnote287">{287}</a> +The ludicrous theory that Gladstone is a territorial surname, derived +from some place (“Gledstane” <i>Falkenstein</i>), can only +be broached by men ignorant of even the grammar of science; dabblers +who mark with a pencil the pages of travellers and missionaries. +We conclude, then, that Gladstone is, primarily, the hawk-sun, or sun-hawk.</p> +<p>From philology we turn to the examination of literary fragments, +which will necessarily establish our already secured position (that +Gladstone is the sun), or so much the worse for the fragments. +These have reached us in the shape of burned and torn scraps of paper, +covered with printed texts, which resolve themselves into hymns, and +imprecations or curses. It appears to have been the custom of +the worshippers of Gladstone to salute his rising, at each dawn, with +printed outcries of adoration and delight, resembling in character the +Osirian hymns. These are sometimes couched in rhythmical language, +as when we read—</p> +<blockquote><p>“[Gla] dstone, the pillar of the People’s +hopes,”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>to be compared with a very old text, referring obscurely to “the +People’s William,” and “a popular Bill,” doubtless +one and the same thing, as has often been remarked. Among the +epithets of Gladstone which occur in the hymns, we find “versatile,” +“accomplished,” “philanthropic,” “patriotic,” +“statesmanlike,” “subtle,” “eloquent,” +“illustrious,” “persuasive,” “brilliant,” +“clear,” “unambiguous,” “resolute.” +All of those are obviously intelligible only when applied to the sun. +At the same time we note a fragmentary curse of the greatest importance, +in which Gladstone is declared to be the beloved object of “the +Divine Figure from the North,” or “the Great White Czar.” +This puzzled the learned, till a fragment of a mythological disquisition +was recently unearthed. In this text it was stated, on the authority +of Brinton, that “the Great White Hare” worshipped by the +Red Indians was really, when correctly understood, the Dawn. It +is needless to observe (when one is addressing students) that “Great +White Hare” (in Algonkin, <i>Manibozho</i>) becomes <i>Great White +Czar</i> in Victorian English. Thus the Divine Figure from the +North, or White Czar, with whom Gladstone is mythically associated, +turns out to be the Great White Hare, or Dawn Hero, of the Algonkins. +The sun (Gladstone) may naturally and reasonably be spoken of in mythical +language as the “Friend of the Dawn.” This proverbial +expression came to be misunderstood, and we hear of a Liberal statesman, +Gladstone, and of his affection for a Russian despot. The case +is analogous to Apollo’s fabled love for Daphne = Dâhana, +the Dawn. While fragments of laudatory hymns are common enough, +it must not be forgotten that dirges or curses (<i>Diræ</i>) are +also discovered in the excavations. These <i>Diræ</i> were +put forth both morning and evening, and it is interesting to note that +the imprecations vented at sunset (“evening papers,” in +the old mythical language) are even more severe and unsparing than those +uttered (“morning papers”) at dawn.</p> +<p>How are the imprecations to be explained? The explanation is +not difficult, nothing <i>is</i> difficult—to a comparative mythologist. +Gladstone is the sun, the enemy of Darkness. But Darkness has +her worshippers as well as Light. Set, no less than Osiris, was +adored in the hymns of Egypt, perhaps by kings of an invading Semitic +tribe. Now there can be no doubt that the enemies of Gladstone, +the <i>Rishis</i>, or hymn-writers who execrated him, were regarded +by his worshippers as a darkened class, foes of enlightenment. +They are spoken of as “the stupid party,” as “obscurantist,” +and so forth, with the usual amenity of theological controversy. +It would be painful, and is unnecessary, to quote from the curses, whether +matins or vespers, of the children of night. Their language is +terribly severe, and, doubtless, was regarded as blasphemy by the sun-worshippers. +Gladstone is said to have “no conscience,” “no sense +of honour,” to be so fugitive and evasive in character, that one +might almost think the moon, rather than the sun, was the topic under +discussion. But, as Roth points out, this is easily explained +when we remember the vicissitudes of English weather, and the infrequent +appearances of the sun in that climate. By the curses, uttered +as they were in the morning, when night has yielded to the star of day, +and at evening, when day is, in turn, vanquished by night, our theory +of the sun Gladstone is confirmed beyond reach of cavil; indeed, the +solar theory is no longer a theory, but a generally recognized fact.</p> +<p>Evidence, which is bound to be confirmatory, reaches us from an altar +and from works of art. The one altar of Gladstone is by some explained +as the pedestal of his statue, while the anthropological sciolists regard +it simply as a milestone! In speaking to archæologists it +is hardly necessary even to touch on this preposterous fallacy, sufficiently +confuted by the monument itself.</p> +<p>On the road into western England, between the old sites of Bristol +and London, excavations recently laid bare the very interesting monument +figured here.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/image1.jpg"> +<img alt="Sketch of monument" src="images/image1.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Though some letters or hieroglyphs are defaced, there can be no doubt +that the inscription is correctly read G. O. M. The explanation +which I have proposed (<i>Zeitschrift für Ang. Ant</i>) is universally +accepted by scholars. I read <i>Gladstonio Optimo Maximo</i>, +“To Gladstone, Best and Greatest,” a form of adoration, +or adulation, which survived in England (like municipal institutions, +the game laws, and trial by jury) from the date of the Roman occupation. +It is a plausible conjecture that Gladstone stepped into the shoes of +Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Hence we may regard him (like Osiris) +as the sum of the monotheistic conception in England.</p> +<p>This interpretation is so manifest, that, could science sneer, we +might laugh at the hazardous conjectures of smatterers. They, +as usual, are greatly divided among themselves. The Spencerian +or Euhemeristic school,—if that can be called a school</p> +<blockquote><p> “Where blind +and naked Ignorance<br /> +Delivers brawling judgments all day long<br /> +On all things, unashamed,”—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>protests that the monument is a pedestal of a lost image of Gladstone. +The inscription (G. O. M.) is read “Grand Old Man,” and +it is actually hinted that this was the <i>petit nom</i>, or endearing +title, of a real historical politician. Weak as we may think such +reasonings, we must regard them as, at least, less unscholarly than +the hypothesis that the inscription should be read</p> +<blockquote><p>“90 M.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>meaning “ninety miles from London.” It is true +that the site whence the monument was excavated is at a distance of +ninety miles from the ruins of London, but that is a mere coincidence, +on which it were childish to insist. Scholars know at what rate +such accidents should be estimated, and value at its proper price one +clear interpretation like G. O. M<i>.= Gladstonio Optimo Maximo</i>.</p> +<p>It is, of course, no argument against this view that the authors +of the <i>Diræ</i> regard Gladstone as a <i>maleficent</i> being. +How could they do otherwise? They were the scribes of the opposed +religion. Diodorus tells us about an Ethiopian sect which detested +the Sun. A parallel, as usual, is found in Egypt, where Set, or +Typhon, is commonly regarded as a maleficent spirit, the enemy of Osiris, +the midnight sun. None the less it is certain that under some +dynasties Set himself was adored—the deity of one creed is the +Satan of its opponents. A curious coincidence seems to show (as +Bergaigne thinks) that Indra, the chief Indo-Aryan deity, was occasionally +confounded with Vrittra, who is usually his antagonist. The myths +of Egypt, as reported by Plutarch, say that Set, or Typhon, forced his +way out of his mother’s side, thereby showing his natural malevolence +even in the moment of his birth. The myths of the extinct Algonkins +of the American continent repeat absolutely the same tale about Malsumis, +the brother and foe of their divine hero, Glooskap. Now the Rig +Veda (iv. 18, 1-3) attributes this act to Indra, and we may infer that +Indra had been the Typhon, or Set, or Glooskap, of some Aryan kindred, +before he became the chief and beneficent god of the Kusika stock of +Indo-Aryans. The evil myth clung to the good god. By a similar +process we may readily account for the imprecations, and for the many +profane and blasphemous legends, in which Gladstone is represented as +oblique, mysterious, and equivocal. (Compare Apollo Loxias.) +The same class of ideas occurs in the myths about Gladstone “in +Opposition” (as the old mythical language runs), that is, about +the too ardent sun of summer. When “in Opposition” +he is said to have found himself in a condition “of more freedom +and less responsibility,” and to “have made it hot for his +enemies,” expressions transparently mythical. If more evidence +were wanted, it would be found in the myth which represents Gladstone +as the opponent of Huxley. As every philologist knows, Huxley, +by Grimm’s law, is Huskley, the hero of a “husk myth” +(as Ralston styles it), a brilliant being enveloped in a husk, probably +the night or the thunder-cloud. The dispute between Gladstone +and Huskley as to what occurred at the Creation is a repetition of the +same dispute between Wainamoinen and Joukahainen, in the Kalewala of +the Finns. Released from his husk, the opponent becomes Beaconsfield += the field of light, or radiant sky.</p> +<p>In works of art, Gladstone is represented as armed with an axe. +This, of course, is probably a survival from the effigies of Zeus Labrandeus, +<i>den Man auf Münsen mit der streitaxt erblickt</i> (Preller, +i. 112). We hear of axes being offered to Gladstone by his worshippers. +Nor was the old custom of clothing the image of the god (as in the sixth +book of the “Iliad”) neglected. We read that the people +of a Scotch manufacturing town, Galashiels, presented the Midlothian +Gladstone (a local hero), with “trouserings,” which the +hero graciously accepted. Indeed he was remarkably unlike Death, +as described by Æschylus, “Of all gods, Death only recks +not of gifts.” Gladstone, on the other hand, was the centre +of a lavish system of sacrifice—loaves of bread, axes, velocipedes, +books, in vast and overwhelming numbers, were all dedicated at his shrine. +Hence some have identified him with Irving, also a deity propitiated +(as we read in Josephus Hatton) by votive offerings. In a later +chapter I show that Irving is really one of the Asvins of Vedic mythology, +“the Great Twin Brethren,” or, in mythic language, “the +Corsican Brothers” (compare Myriantheus on the Asvins). +His inseparable companion is Wilson-Barrett.</p> +<p>Among animals the cow is sacred to Gladstone; and, in works of art, +gems and vases (or “jam-pots”), he is represented with the +cow at his feet, like the mouse of Horus, of Apollo Smintheus, and of +the Japanese God of Plenty (see an ivory in the Henley Collection). +How are we to explain the companionship of the cow? At other times +the Sun-hero sits between the horns of the Cow-Goddess Dilemma, worshipped +at Westminster. (Compare Brugsch, “Religion und Mythologie +der alten Aegypter,” p. 168, “Die Darstellungen Zeigen uns +den Sonnengott zwischen den Hörnern der Kuh sitzend.”) +The idea of Le Page Renouf, and of Pierret and De Rougé, is that +the cow is a symbol of some Gladstonian attribute, perhaps “squeezability,” +a quality attributed to the hero by certain Irish minstrels. I +regard it as more probable that the cow is (as in the Veda) the rain-cloud, +released from prison by Gladstone, as by Indra. At the same time +the cow, in the Veda, stands for Heaven, Earth, Dawn, Night, Cloud, +Rivers, Thunder, Sacrifice, Prayer, and Soma. We thus have a wide +field to choose from, nor is our selection of very much importance, +as any, or all, of these interpretations will be welcomed by Sanskrit +scholars. The followers of McLennan have long ago been purged +out of the land by the edict of Oxford against this sect of mythological +heretics. <i>They</i> would doubtless have maintained that the +cow was Gladstone’s totem, or family crest, and that, like other +totemists, he was forbidden to eat beef.</p> +<p>It is curious that on some old and worn coins we detect a half-obliterated +male figure lurking behind the cow. The inscription may be read +“Jo,” or “Io,” and appears to indicate Io, the +cow-maiden of Greek myth (see the “Prometheus” of Æschylus).</p> +<p>Another proof of the mythical character of Gladstone is the number +of his birthplaces. Many cities claimed the honour of being his +cradle, exactly as in the cases of Apollo and Irving. Their claims +were allowed by the Deity. (Compare Callimachus, <i>Hymn to Apollo</i>.)</p> +<p>In addressing scholars it is needless to refute the Euhemeristic +hypothesis, worthy of the Abbé Banier, that the cow is a real +cow, offered by a real historical Gladstone, or by his companion, Jo, +to the ignorant populace of the rural districts. We have already +shown that Jo is a mythological name. The tendency to identify +Gladstone with the cow (as the dawn with the sun) is a natural and edifying +tendency, but the position must not be accepted without further inquiry. +The Sun-god, in Egyptian myth, is a Bull, but there is a difference, +which we must not overlook, between a bull and a cow. Caution, +prudence, a tranquil balancing of all available evidence, and an absence +of preconceived opinions,—these are the guiding stars of comparative +mythology.</p> +<h2>MY FRIEND THE BEACH-COMBER.</h2> +<p>“Been in some near things in the islands?” said my friend +the beach-comber; “I fancy I <i>have</i>.”</p> +<p>The beach-comber then produced a piece of luggage like a small Gladstone +bag, which he habitually carried, and thence he extracted a cigar about +the size of the butt of a light trout-rod. He took a vesuvian +out of a curious brown hollowed nut-shell, mounted in gold (the beach-comber, +like Mycenæ in Homer, was <i>polychrysos</i>, rich in gold in +all his equipments), and occupied himself with the task of setting fire +to his weed. The process was a long one, and reminded me of the +arts by which the beach-comber’s native friends fire the root +of a tree before they attack it with their stone tomahawks. However, +there was no use in trying to hurry the ancient mariner. He was +bound to talk while his cigar lasted, thereby providing his hearer with +plenty of what is called “copy” in the profession of letters.</p> +<p>The beach-comber was a big man, loose (in <i>physique</i> only of +course), broad, and black-bearded, his face about the colour of a gun-stock. +We called him by the nickname he bore <a name="citation304"></a><a href="#footnote304">{304}</a> +(he bore it very good-naturedly), because he had spent the years of +his youth among the countless little islands of the South Seas, especially +among those which lie at “the back of beyond,” that is, +on the far side of the broad shoulder of Queensland. In these +regions the white man takes his life and whatever native property he +can annex in his hand, caring no more for the Aborigines’ Protection +Society than for the Kyrle Company for diffusing stamped-leather hangings +and Moorish lustre plates among the poor of the East-End. The +common beach-comber is usually an outcast from that civilization of +which, in the islands, he is the only pioneer. Sometimes he deals +in rum, sometimes in land, most frequently in “black-birds”—that +is, in coolies, as it is now usual to call slaves. Not, of course, +that all coolies are slaves. My friend the beach-comber treated +his dusky labourers with distinguished consideration, fed them well, +housed them well, taught them the game of cricket, and dismissed them, +when the term of their engagement was up, to their island homes. +He was, in fact, a planter, with a taste for observing wild life in +out-of-the-way places.</p> +<p>“Yes, I have been in some near things,” he went on, when +the trunk of his cigar was fairly ignited. “Do you see these +two front teeth?”</p> +<p>The beach-comber opened wide a cavernous mouth. The late Mr. +Macadam, who invented the system of making roads called by his name, +allowed no stone to be laid on the way which the stone-breaker could +not put in his mouth. The beach-comber could almost have inserted +a milestone.</p> +<p>I did not see “these two front teeth,” because, like +the Spanish Fleet, they were not in sight. But I understood my +friend to be drawing my attention to their absence.</p> +<p>“I see the place where they have been,” I answered.</p> +<p>“Well, <i>that</i> was a near go,” said the beach-comber. +“I was running for my life before a pack of screeching naked beggars +in the Admiralty Islands. I had emptied my revolver, and my cartridges, +Government ones, were all in a parcel—a confounded Government +parcel—fastened with a strong brass wire. Where’s +the good of giving you cartridges, which you need in a hurry if you +need them at all, in a case you can’t open without a special instrument? +Well, as I ran, and the spears whizzed round me, I tore at the wire +with my teeth. It gave at last, or my head would now be decorating +a stake outside the chief’s <i>pah</i>. But my teeth gave +when the brass cord gave, and I’ll never lift a heavy table with +them again.”</p> +<p>“But you got out the cartridges?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes. I shot two of the beggars, and ‘purwailed +on them to stop,’ and then I came within sight of the boats, and +Thompson shouted, and the others bolted. What a voice that fellow +had! It reminded me of that Greek chap I read about at school; +he went and faced the Trojans with nothing in his hand, and they hooked +it when they only heard him roar. Poor Thompson! “and the +beach-comber drank, in silence, to the illustrious dead.</p> +<p>“Who shot him?”</p> +<p>“A scientific kind of poop, a botanizing shaloot that was travelling +around with a tin box on his back, collecting beetles and bird-skins. +Poor Thompson! this was how it happened. He was the strongest +fellow I ever saw; he could tear a whole pack of cards across with his +hands. That man was all muscle. He and I had paddled this +botanizing creature across to an island where some marooned fellow had +built a hut, and we kept a little whisky in a bunk, and used the place +sometimes for shooting or fishing. It was latish one night, the +botanist had not come home, I fell asleep, and left Thompson with the +whisky. I was awakened by hearing a shot, and there lay Thompson, +stone-dead, a bullet in his forehead, and the naturalist with a smoking +revolver in his hand, and trembling like an aspen leaf. It seems +he had lost his way, and by the time he got home, Thompson was mad drunk, +and came for him with his fists. If once he hit you, just in play, +it was death, and the stranger knew that. Thompson had him in +a corner, and I am bound to say that shooting was his only chance. +Poor old Thompson!”</p> +<p>“And what was done to the other man?”</p> +<p>“Done! why there was no one to do anything, unless I had shot +him, or marooned him. No law runs in these parts. Thompson +was the best partner I ever had; he was with me in that lark with the +tabooed pig.”</p> +<p>“What lark?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve often spun you the yarn.”</p> +<p>“Never!”</p> +<p>“Well, it was like this. Thompson and I, and some other +chaps, started in a boat, with provisions, just prospecting about the +islands. So we went in and out among the straits—horrid +places, clear water full of sharks, and nothing but mangroves on every +side. One of these sounds is just like another. Once I was +coming home in a coasting steamer, and got them to set me down on a +point that I believed was within half-a-mile of my place. Well, +I was landed, and I began walking homewards, when I found I was on the +wrong track, miles and miles of mangrove swamp, cut up with a dozen +straits of salt water, lay between me and the station. The first +stretch of water I came to, gad! I didn’t like it. +I kept prospecting for sharks very close before I swam it, with my clothes +on my head. I was in awful luck all the way, though,—not +one of them had a snap at me.”</p> +<p>“But about the taboo pig? <i>Revenons à nos cochons</i>!”</p> +<p>“I’m coming to that. Well, we landed at an island +we had never been on before, where there was a village of Coast natives. +A crowd of beehive-shaped huts, you know, the wall about three feet +high, and all the rest roof, wattle, and clay, and moss, built as neat +as a bird’s-nest outside, not very sweet inside. So we landed +and got out the grub, and marched up to the village. Not a soul +to be seen; not a black in the place. Their gear was all cleaned +out too; there wasn’t a net, nor a spear, nor a mat, nor a bowl +(they’re great beggars for making pipkins), not a blessed fetich +stone even, in the whole place. You never saw anything so forsaken. +But just in the middle of the row of huts, you might call it a street +if you liked, there lay, as happy as if he was by the fireside among +the children in Galway, a great big fat beast of a hog. Well, +we couldn’t make out what had become of the people. Thought +we had frightened them away, only then they’d have taken the hog. +Suddenly, out of some corner, comes a black fellow making signs of peace. +He held up his hands to show he had no weapon in them, and then he held +up his feet ditto.”</p> +<p>“Why on earth did he hold up his feet?”</p> +<p>“To show he wasn’t trailing a spear between his toes; +that is a common dodge of theirs. We made signs to him to come +up, and up he came, speaking a kind of pigeon English. It seems +he was an interpreter by trade, paying a visit to his native village; +so we tried to get out of him what it was all about. Just what +we might have expected. A kid had been born in the village that +day.”</p> +<p>“What had the birth of a kid got to do with it?”</p> +<p>“It’s like this, don’t you know. Every tribe +is divided into Coast natives and Bush natives. One set lives +by the sea, and is comparatively what you might call civilized. +The other set, their cousins, live in the Bush, and are a good deal +more savage. Now, when anything out of the way, especially anything +of a fortunate kind, happens in one division of the tribe, the other +division pops down on them, loots everything it can lay hands on, maltreats +the women, breaks what’s too heavy to carry, and generally plays +the very mischief. The birth of a child is <i>always</i> celebrated +in that way.”</p> +<p>“And don’t the others resist?”</p> +<p>“Resist! No! It would be the height of rudeness. +Do <i>you</i> resist when people leave cards at your house, ‘with +kind inquiries’? It’s just like that; a way they have +of showing a friendly interest.”</p> +<p>“But what can be the origin of such an extraordinary custom?”</p> +<p>“<i>I</i> don’t know. Guess it has a kind of civilizing +effect, as you’ll see. Resources of civilization get handed +on to the Bush tribes, but that can’t be what it was started for. +However, recently the tribes have begun to run cunning, and they hide +themselves and all their goods when they have reason to expect a friendly +visit. This was what they had done the day we landed. But, +while we were jawing with the interpreter, we heard a yell to make your +hair stand on end. The Bush tribe came down on the village all +in their war paint,—white clay; an arrangement, as you say, in +black and white. Down they came, rushed into every hut, rushed +out again, found nothing, and an awful rage they were in. They +said this kind of behaviour was most ungentlemanly; why, where was decent +feeling? where was neighbourliness? While they were howling, they +spotted the hog, and made for him in a minute; here was luncheon, anyhow,—pork +chops. So they soon had a fire, set a light to one of the houses +in fact, and heaped up stones; that’s how they cook. They +cut you up in bits, wrap them in leaves—”</p> +<p>“<i>En papillotte</i>?”</p> +<p>“Just that, and broil you on the hot stones. They cook +everything that way.”</p> +<p>“Are they cannibals?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes, in war-time. Or criminals they’ll eat. +I’ve often heard the queer yell a native will give, quite a peculiar +cry, when he is carrying a present of cold prisoner of war from one +chief to another. He cries out like that, to show what his errand +is, at the border of the village property.”</p> +<p>“Before entering the Mark?” I said, for I had been reading +Sir Henry Maine.</p> +<p>“The <i>pah</i>, the beggars about me call it,” said +the beach-comber; “perhaps some niggers you’ve been reading +about call it the Mark. I don’t know. But to be done +with this pig. The fire was ready, and they were just going to +cut the poor beast’s throat with a green-stone knife, when the +interpreter up and told them ‘hands off.’ ‘That’s +a taboo pig,’ says he. ‘A black fellow that died six +months ago that pig belonged to. When he was dying, and leaving +his property to his friends, he was very sorry to part with the pig, +so he made him taboo; nobody can touch him. To eat him is death.’</p> +<p>“Of course this explained why that pig had been left when all +the other live stock and portable property was cleared out. Nobody +would touch a taboo pig, and that pig, I tell you, was tabooed an inch +thick. The man he belonged to had been a <i>Tohunga</i>, and still +‘walked,’ in the shape of a lizard. Well, the interpreter, +acting most fairly, I must say, explained all this to the Bush tribe, +and we went down to the boat and lunched. Presently a smell of +roast pork came drifting down on the wind. They had been hungry +and mad after their march, and they were cooking the taboo pig. +The interpreter grew as white as a Kaneka can; he knew something would +happen.</p> +<p>“Presently the Bush fellows came down to the boat, licking +their lips. There hadn’t been much more than enough to go +round, and they accepted some of our grub, and took to it kindly.</p> +<p>“‘Let’s offer them some rum,’ says Thompson; +he never cruised without plenty aboard. ‘No, no,’ +says I; ‘tea, give them tea.’ But Thompson had a keg +of rum out, and a tin can, and served round some pretty stiff grog. +Now, would you believe it, these poor devils had never tasted spirits +before? Most backward race they were. But they took to the +stuff, and got pretty merry, till one of them tried to move back to +the village. He staggered up and down, and tumbled against rocks, +and finally he lay flat and held on tight. The others, most of +them, were no better as soon as they tried to move. A rare fright +they were in! They began praying and mumbling; praying, of all +things, to the soul of the taboo pig! They thought they were being +punished for the awful sin they had committed in eating him. The +interpreter improved the occasion. He told them their faults pretty +roundly. Hadn’t he warned them? Didn’t they +know the pig was taboo? Did any good ever come of breaking a taboo? +The soberer fellows sneaked off into the bush, the others lay and snoozed +till the Coast tribe came out of hiding, and gave it to them pretty +warm with throwing sticks and the flat side of waddies. I guess +the belief in taboo won’t die out of that Bush tribe in a hurry.”</p> +<p>“It was like the companions of Odysseus devouring the oxen +of the Sun,” I said.</p> +<p>“Very likely,” replied the beach-comber. “Never +heard of the parties. They’re superstitious beggars, these +Kanekas. You’ve heard of buying a thing ‘for a song’? +Well, I got my station for a whistle. They believe that spirits +twitter and whistle, and you’ll hardly get them to go out at night, +even with a boiled potato in their hands, which they think good against +ghosts, for fear of hearing the bogies. So I just went whistling, +‘Bonny Dundee’ at nights all round the location I fancied, +and after a week of that, not a nigger would go near it. They +made it over to me, gratis, with an address on my courage and fortitude. +I gave them some blankets in; and that’s how real property used +to change hands in the Pacific.”</p> +<h2>Footnotes:</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">{1}</a> From <i>Wandering +Sheep</i>, the Bungletonian Missionary Record.</p> +<p><a name="footnote6"></a><a href="#citation6">{6}</a> 1884. +Date unknown. Month probably June.</p> +<p><a name="footnote23a"></a><a href="#citation23a">{23a}</a> +The original text of this prophecy is printed at the close of Mr. Gowles’s +narrative.</p> +<p><a name="footnote23b"></a><a href="#citation23b">{23b}</a> +It has been suggested to me that some travelled priest or conjurer of +this strange race may have met Europeans, seen hats, spectacles, steamers, +and so forth, and may have written the prophecy as a warning of the +dangers of our civilization. In that case the forgery was very +cunningly managed, as the document had every appearance of great age, +and the alarm of the priest was too natural to have been feigned.</p> +<p><a name="footnote25"></a><a href="#citation25">{25}</a> How +terribly these words were afterwards to be interpreted, the reader will +learn in due time.</p> +<p><a name="footnote30"></a><a href="#citation30">{30}</a> I afterwards +found it was blue smalt.</p> +<p><a name="footnote74"></a><a href="#citation74">{74}</a> I have +never been able to understand Mr. Gowles’s infatuation for this +stuck-up creature, who, I am sure, gave herself airs enough, as any +one may see.—MRS. GOWLES.</p> +<p><a name="footnote76"></a><a href="#citation76">{76}</a> This +was the name of a native vintage.</p> +<p><a name="footnote95"></a><a href="#citation95">{95}</a> Mr. +Gowles was an ardent Liberal, but at the time when he wrote, the Union +Jack had not been denounced by his great leader. We have no doubt +that, at a word from Mr. Gladstone, he would have sung, <i>Home Rule</i>, +<i>Hibernia</i>!—ED. <i>Wandering Sheep</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote106"></a><a href="#citation106">{106}</a> +From Wandering Sheep.</p> +<p><a name="footnote124"></a><a href="#citation124">{124}</a> +From Mr. E. Myers’s “Pindar.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote128"></a><a href="#citation128">{128}</a> +Poor Figgins always called M. Baudelaire “the Master.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote208"></a><a href="#citation208">{208}</a> +His photograph, thus arrayed, may be purchased at Mentone.</p> +<p><a name="footnote256"></a><a href="#citation256">{256}</a> +“Lift” is English for “elevator,” or “elevator” +is American for “lift.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote261"></a><a href="#citation261">{261}</a> +This article was originally written for “Mind,” but the +author changed his. The reference is to Kant’s Philosophy.</p> +<p><a name="footnote265"></a><a href="#citation265">{265}</a> +A similar phenomenon is mentioned in Mr. Howell’s learned treatise, +“An Undiscovered Country.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote283"></a><a href="#citation283">{283}</a> +A chapter from Prof. Boscher’s “Post-Christian Mythology.” +Berlin and New York, A.D. 3886.</p> +<p><a name="footnote284"></a><a href="#citation284">{284}</a> +Both these names are undoubtedly Greek neuter substantives.</p> +<p><a name="footnote285a"></a><a href="#citation285a">{285a}</a> +Lieblein speaks (“Egyptian Religion,” 1884, Leipzig,) of +“the mythical name Jo.” Already had Continental <i>savants</i> +dismissed the belief in a historical Jo, a leader of the Demos.</p> +<p><a name="footnote285b"></a><a href="#citation285b">{285b}</a> +There seems to be some mistake here.</p> +<p><a name="footnote287"></a><a href="#citation287">{287}</a> +“Le pierre sorti du soleil se retrouve au Livre des Souffles.” +Lefèbure, “Osiris,” p. 204. Brugsch, “Shaï-n. +sinsin,” i. 9.</p> +<p><a name="footnote304"></a><a href="#citation304">{304}</a> +“Beach-comber” is the local term for the European adventurers +and long-shore loafers who infest the Pacific Archipelagoes. There +is a well-known tale of an English castaway on one of the isles, who +was worshipped as a deity by the ignorant people. At length he +made his escape, by swimming, and was taken aboard a British vessel, +whose captain accosted him roughly. The mariner turned aside and +dashed away a tear: “I’ve been a god for months, and you +call me a (something alliterative) beach-comber!” he exclaimed, +and refused to be comforted.</p> +<p> </p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WRONG PARADISE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 13984-h.htm or 13984-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/9/8/13984 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/13984-h/images/image1.jpg b/13984-h/images/image1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd5b328 --- /dev/null +++ b/13984-h/images/image1.jpg diff --git a/13984.txt b/13984.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ac2374 --- /dev/null +++ b/13984.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6094 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, In the Wrong Paradise, by Andrew Lang + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: In the Wrong Paradise + +Author: Andrew Lang + +Release Date: November 8, 2004 [eBook #13984] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WRONG PARADISE*** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1886 Kegan Paul, Trench & Co. edition by David +Price, email ccx074@coventry + + + + + +In the Wrong Paradise and Other Stories +by Andrew Lang + + +Contents: + +The End of Phaeacia +In the Wrong Paradise +A Cheap Nigger +The Romance of the First Radical +A Duchess's Secret +The House of Strange Stories +In Castle Perilous +The Great Gladstone Myth +My Friend the Beach-Comber + + + + +DEDICATION. + + +DEAR RIDER HAGGARD, + +I have asked you to let me put your name here, that I might have the +opportunity of saying how much pleasure I owe to your romances. They +make one a boy again while one is reading them; and the student of "The +Witch's Head" and of "King Solomon's Mines" is as young, in heart, as +when he hunted long ago with Chingachgook and Uncas. You, who know the +noble barbarian in his African retreats, appear to retain more than most +men of his fresh natural imagination. We are all savages under our white +skins; but you alone recall to us the delights and terrors of the world's +nonage. We are hunters again, trappers, adventurers bold, while we study +you, and the blithe barbarian wakens even in the weary person of letters. +He forgets proof-sheets and papers, and the "young lion" seeks his food +from God, in the fearless ancient way, with bow or rifle. Of all modern +heroes of romance, the dearest to me is your faithful Zulu, and I own I +cried when he bade farewell to his English master, in "The Witch's Head." + +In the following tales the natural man takes a hand, but he is seen +through civilized spectacles, not, as in your delightful books, with the +eyes of the sympathetic sportsman. If Why-Why and Mr. Gowles amuse you a +little, let this be my Diomedean exchange of bronze for gold--of the new +Phaeacia for Kukuana land, or for that haunted city of Kor, in which your +fair Ayesha dwells undying, as yet unknown to the future lovers of She. + +Very sincerely yours, +A. LANG. +CROMER, August 29, 1886. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +The writer of these apologues hopes that the Rev. Mr. Gowles will not be +regarded as his idea of a typical missionary. The countrymen of +Codrington and Callaway, of Patteson and Livingstone, know better what +missionaries may be, and often are. But the wrong sort as well as the +right sort exists everywhere, and Mr. Gowles is not a very gross +caricature of the ignorant teacher of heathendom. I am convinced that he +would have seen nothing but a set of darkened savages in the ancient +Greeks. The religious eccentricities of the Hellenes are not exaggerated +in "The End of Phaeacia;" nay, Mr. Gowles might have seen odder things in +Attica than he discovered, or chose to record, in Boothland. + +To avoid the charge of plagiarism, perhaps it should be mentioned that +"The Romance of the First Radical" was written long before I read +Tanner's "Narrative of a Captivity among the Indians." Tanner, like Why- +Why, had trouble with the chief medicine-man of his community. + +If my dear kinsman and companion of old days, J. J. A., reads "My Friend +the Beach-comber," he will recognize many of his own yarns, but the +portrait of the narrator is wholly fanciful. + +"In Castle Perilous" and "A Cheap Nigger" are reprinted from the Cornhill +Magazine; "My Friend the Beach-comber," from Longman's; "The Great +Gladstone Myth," from Macmillan's; "In the Wrong Paradise," from the +Fortnightly Review; "A Duchess's Secret," from the Overland Mail; "The +Romance of the First Radical," from Fraser's Magazine; and "The End of +Phaeacia," from Time, by the courteous permission of the editors and +proprietors of those periodicals. + + + + +THE END OF PHAEACIA + + +I. INTRODUCTORY. {1} + + +The Rev. Thomas Gowles, well known in Colonial circles where the Truth is +valued, as "the Boanerges of the Pacific," departed this life at Hackney +Wick, on the 6th of March, 1885. The Laodiceans in our midst have +ventured to affirm that the world at large has been a more restful place +since Mr. Gowles was taken from his corner of the vineyard. The +Boanerges of the Pacific was, indeed, one of those rarely-gifted souls, +souls like a Luther or a Knox, who can tolerate no contradiction, and +will palter with no compromise, where the Truth is concerned. Papists, +Puseyites, Presbyterians, and Pagans alike, found in Mr. Gowles an +opponent whose convictions were firm as a rock, and whose method of +proclaiming the Truth was as the sound of a trumpet. Examples of his +singular courage and daring in the work of the ministry abound in the +following narrative. Born and brought up in the Bungletonian communion, +himself collaterally connected, by a sister's marriage, with Jedediah +Bungleton, the revered founder of the Very Particular People, Gowles was +inaccessible to the scepticism of the age. + +His youth, it is true, had been stormy, like that of many a brand +afterwards promoted to being a vessel. His worldly education was of the +most elementary and indeed eleemosynary description, consequently he +despised secular learning, and science "falsely so called." It is +recorded of him that he had almost a distaste for those difficult +chapters of the Epistles in which St. Paul mentions by name his Greek +friends and converts. In a controversy with an Oxford scholar, conducted +in the open air, under the Martyrs' Memorial in that centre of careless +professors, Gowles had spoken of "Nicodemus," "Eubulus," and "Stephanas." +His unmannerly antagonist jeering at these slips of pronunciation, Gowles +uttered his celebrated and crushing retort, "Did Paul know Greek?" The +young man, his opponent, went away, silenced if not convinced. + +Such a man was the Rev. Thomas Gowles in his home ministry. Circumstances +called him to that wider field of usefulness, the Pacific, in which so +many millions of our dusky brethren either worship owls, butterflies, +sharks, and lizards, or are led away captive by the seductive pomps of +the Scarlet Woman, or lapse languidly into the lap of a bloated and +Erastian establishment, ignorant of the Truth as possessed by our +community. Against all these forms of soul-destroying error the Rev. +Thomas Gowles thundered nobly, "passing," as an admirer said, "like an +evangelical cyclone, from the New Hebrides to the Aleutian Islands." It +was during one of his missionary voyages, in a labour vessel, the +Blackbird, that the following singular events occurred, events which Mr. +Gowles faithfully recorded, as will be seen, in his missionary narrative. +We omit, as of purely secular interest, the description of the storm +which wrecked the Blackbird, the account of the destruction of the +steamer with all hands (not, let us try to hope, with all souls) on +board, and everything that transpired till Mr. Gowles found himself +alone, the sole survivor, and bestriding the mast in the midst of a +tempestuous sea. What follows is from the record kept on pieces of skin, +shards of pottery, plates of metal, papyrus leaves, and other strange +substitutes for paper, used by Mr. Gowles during his captivity. + + + +II. NARRATIVE OF MR. GOWLES. {6} + + +"I must now, though in sore straits for writing materials, and having +entirely lost count of time, post up my diary, or rather commence my +narrative. So far as I can learn from the jargon of the strange and lost +people among whom Providence has cast me, this is, in their speech, the +last of the month, Thargeelyun, as near as I can imitate the sound in +English. Being in doubt as to the true time, I am resolved to regard to- +morrow, and every seventh day in succession, as the Sabbath. The very +natives, I have observed with great interest, keep one day at fixed +intervals sacred to the Sun-god, whom they call Apollon, perhaps the same +word as Apollyon. On this day they do no manner of work, but _that_ is +hardly an exception to their usual habits. A less industrious people +(slaves and all) I never met, even in the Pacific. As to being more than +common idle on one day out of seven, whether they have been taught so +much of what is _essential_ by some earlier missionary, or whether they +may be the corrupted descendants of the Lost Tribes (whom they do not, +however, at all resemble outwardly, being, I must admit, of prepossessing +appearance), I can only conjecture. This Apollon of theirs, in his +graven images (of which there are many), carries a bow and arrows, _fiery +darts of the wicked_, another point in common between him and Apollyon, +in the Pilgrim's Progress. May I, like Christian, turn aside and quench +his artillery! + +To return to my narrative. When I recovered consciousness, after the +sinking of the Blackbird, I found myself alone, clinging to the mast. Now +was I tossed on the crest of the wave, now the waters opened beneath me, +and I sank down in the valleys of the sea. Cold, numbed, and all but +lifeless, I had given up hope of earthly existence, and was nearly +insensible, when I began to revive beneath the rays of the sun. + +The sea, though still moved by a swell, was now much smoother, and, but +for a strange vision, I might have believed that I was recovering my +strength. I must, however, have been delirious or dreaming, for it +appeared to me that a foreign female, of prepossessing exterior, though +somewhat indelicately dressed, arose out of the waters close by my side, +as lightly as if she had been a sea-gull on the wing. About her head +there was wreathed a kind of muslin scarf, which she unwound and offered +to me, indicating that I was to tie it about my waist, and it would +preserve me from harm. So weak and exhausted was I that, without +thinking, I did her bidding, and then lost sight of the female. +Presently, as it seemed (but I was so drowsy that the time may have been +longer than I fancied), I caught sight of land from the crest of a wave. +Steep blue cliffs arose far away out of a white cloud of surf, and, +though a strong swimmer, I had little hope of reaching the shore in +safety. + +Fortunately, or rather, I should say, providentially, the current and +tide-rip carried me to the mouth of a river, and, with a great effort, I +got into the shoal-water, and finally staggered out on shore. There was +a wood hard by, and thither I dragged myself. The sun was in mid heavens +and very warm, and I managed to dry my clothes. I am always most +particular to wear the dress of my calling, observing that it has a +peculiar and gratifying effect on the minds of the natives. I soon dried +my tall hat, which, during the storm, I had attached to my button-hole by +a string, and, though it was a good deal battered, I was not without +hopes of partially restoring its gloss and air of British respectability. +As will be seen, this precaution was, curiously enough, the human means +of preserving my life. My hat, my black clothes, my white neck-tie, and +the hymn-book I carry would, I was convinced, secure for me a favourable +reception among the natives (if of the gentle brown Polynesian type), +whom I expected to find on the island. + +Exhausted by my sufferings, I now fell asleep, but was soon wakened by +loud cries of anguish uttered at no great distance. I started to my +feet, and beheld an extraordinary spectacle, which at once assured me +that I had fallen among natives of the worst and lowest type. The dark +places of the earth are, indeed, full of horrid cruelty. + +The first cries which had roused me must have been comparatively distant, +though piercing, and even now they reached me confused in the notes of a +melancholy chant or hymn. But the shrieks grew more shrill, and I +thought I could distinguish the screams of a woman in pain or dread from +the groans drawn with more difficulty from a man. I leaped up, and, +climbing a high part of the river bank, I beheld, within a couple of +hundred yards, an extraordinary procession coming from the inner country +towards the mouth of the stream. + +At first I had only a confused view of bright stuffs--white, blue, and +red--and the shining of metal objects, in the midst of a crowd partly +concealed by the dust they raised on their way. Very much to my surprise +I found that they were advancing along a wide road, paved in a peculiar +manner, for I had never seen anything of this kind among the heathen +tribes of the Pacific. Their dresses, too, though for the most part mere +wraps, as it were, of coloured stuff, thrown round them, pinned with +brooches, and often clinging in a very improper way to the figure, did +not remind me of the costume (what there is of it) of Samoans, Fijians, +or other natives among whom I have been privileged to labour. + +But these observations give a more minute impression of what I saw than, +for the moment, I had time to take in. The foremost part of the +procession consisted of boys, many of them almost naked. Their hands +were full of branches, wreathed in a curious manner with strips of white +or coloured wools. They were all singing, and were led by a woman +carrying in her arms a mis-shapen wooden idol, not much unlike those +which are too frequent spectacles all over the Pacific. Behind the boys +I could now distinctly behold a man and woman of the Polynesian type, +naked to the waist, and staggering with bent backs beneath showers of +blows. The people behind them, who were almost as light in colour as +ourselves, were cruelly flogging them with cutting branches of trees. +Round the necks of the unfortunate victims--criminals I presumed--were +hung chains of white and black figs, and in their hands they held certain +herbs, figs, and cheese, for what purpose I was, and remain, unable to +conjecture. Whenever their cries were still for a moment, the woman who +carried the idol turned round, and lifted it in her arms with words which +I was unable to understand, urging on the tormentors to ply their +switches with more severity. + +Naturally I was alarmed by the strangeness and ferocity of the natives, +so I concealed myself hastily in some brushwood behind a large tree. Much +to my horror I found that the screams, groans, and singing only drew +nearer and nearer. The procession then passed me so close that I could +see blood on the backs of the victims, and on their faces an awful dread +and apprehension. Finally, the crowd reached the mouth of the river, at +the very place where I had escaped from the sea. By aid of a small +pocket-glass I could make out that the men were piling great faggots of +green wood, which I had noticed that some of them carried, on a spot +beneath the wash of high tide. When the pile had reached a considerable +height, the two victims were placed in the middle. Then, by some means, +which I was too far off to detect, fire was produced, and applied to the +wild wood in which the unhappy man and woman were enveloped. Soon, +fortunately, a thick turbid smoke, in which but little flame appeared, +swept all over the beach. I endeavoured to stop my ears, and turned my +head away that I might neither see nor hear more of this spectacle, which +I now perceived to be a human sacrifice more cruel than is customary even +among the Fijians. + +When I next ventured to look up, the last trails of smoke were vanishing +away across the sea; the sun gazed down on the bright, many-coloured +throng, who were now singing another of their hymns, while some of the +number were gathering up ashes (human ashes!) from a blackened spot on +the sand, and were throwing them into the salt water. The wind tossed +back a soft grey dust in their faces, mixed with the surf and spray. It +was dark before the crowd swept by me again, now chanting in what +appeared to be a mirthful manner, and with faces so smiling and happy +that I could scarcely believe they had just taken part in such abominable +cruelty. On the other hand, a weight seemed to have been removed from +their consciences. So deceitful are the wiles of Satan, who deludes the +heathen most in their very religion! Tired and almost starved as I was, +these reflections forced themselves upon me, even while I was pondering +on the dreadful position in which I found myself. Way of escape from the +island (obviously a very large one) there was none. But, if I remained +all night in the wood, I must almost perish of cold and hunger. I had +therefore no choice but to approach the barbarous people, though, from my +acquaintance with natives, I knew well that they were likely either to +kill and eat me, or to worship me as a god. Either event was too +dreadful to bear reflection. I was certain, however, that, owing to the +dress of my sacred calling, I could not be mistaken for a mere +beach-comber or labour-hunter, and I considered that I might easily +destroy the impression (natural among savages on first seeing a European) +that I was a god. I therefore followed the throng from a distance, +taking advantage for concealment of turns in the way, and of trees and +underwood beside the road. Some four miles' walking, for which I was +very unfit, brought us across a neck of land, and from high ground in the +middle I again beheld the sea. Very much to my surprise the cape on +which I looked down, safe in the rear of the descending multitude, was +occupied by a kind of city. + +The houses were not the mere huts of South Sea Islanders, but, though +built for the most part of carved and painted wood, had white stone +foundations, and were of considerable height. On a rock in the centre of +the bay were some stone edifices which I took to be temples or public +buildings. The crowd gradually broke up, turning into their own +dwellings on the shore, where, by the way, some large masted vessels were +drawn up in little docks. But, while the general public, if I may say +so, slowly withdrew, the woman with the idol in her arms, accompanied by +some elderly men of serious aspect, climbed the road up to the central +public buildings. + +Moved by some impulse which I could hardly explain, I stealthily followed +them, and at last found myself on a rocky platform, a kind of public +square, open on one side to the sea, and shut in on either hand, and at +the back, by large houses with smooth round pillars, and decorated with +odd coloured carvings. There was in the open centre of the square an +object which I recognized as an altar, with a fire burning on it. Some +men came out of the chief building, dragging a sheep, with chains of +flowers round its neck. Another man threw something on the fire, which +burned with a curious smell. At once I recognized the savour of incense, +against which (as employed illegally by the Puseyites) I had often firmly +protested in old days at home. The spirit of a soldier of the Truth +entered into me; weary as I was, I rushed from the dusky corner where I +had been hidden in the twilight, ran to the altar, and held up my hand +with my hymn-book as I began to repeat an address that had often silenced +the papistic mummers in England. Before I had uttered half a dozen +words, the men who were dragging the sheep flew at me, and tried to seize +me, while one of them offered a strange-looking knife at my throat. I +thought my last hour had come, and the old Adam awakening in me, I +delivered such a blow with my right on the eye of the man with the knife, +that he reeled and fell heavily against the altar. Then assuming an +attitude of self-defence (such as was, alas! too familiar to me in my +unregenerate days), I awaited my assailants. + +They were coming on in a body when the veil of the large edifice in front +was lifted, and a flash of light streamed out on the dusky square, as an +old man dressed in red hurried to the scene of struggle. He wore a long +white beard, had green leaves twisted in his hair, and carried in his +hand a gilded staff curiously wreathed with wool. When they saw him +approaching, my assailants fell back, each of them kissing his own hand +and bowing slightly in the direction of the temple, as I rightly supposed +it to be. The old man, who was followed by attendants carrying torches +burning, was now close to us, and on beholding me, he exhibited unusual +emotions. + +My appearance, no doubt, was at that moment peculiar, and little +creditable, as I have since thought, to a minister, however humble. My +hat was thrust on the back of my head, my coat was torn, my shirt open, +my neck-tie twisted round under my ear, and my whole attitude was not one +generally associated with the peaceful delivery of the message. Still, I +had never conceived that any spectacle, however strange and unbecoming, +could have produced such an effect on the native mind, especially in a +person who was manifestly a chief, or high-priest of some heathen god. +Seeing him pause, and turn pale, I dropped my hands, and rearranged my +dress as best I might. The old Tohunga, as my New Zealand flock used to +call their priest, now lifted his eyes to heaven with an air of devotion, +and remained for some moments like one absorbed in prayer or meditation. +He then rapidly uttered some words, which, of course, I could not +understand, whereon his attendants approached me gently, with signs of +respect and friendship. Not to appear lacking in courtesy, or inferior +in politeness to savages, I turned and raised my hat, which seemed still +more to alarm the old priest. He spoke to one of his attendants, who +instantly ran across the square, and entered the courtyard of a large +house, surrounded by a garden, of which the tall trees looked over the +wall, and wooden palisade. The old man then withdrew into the temple, +and I distinctly saw him scatter, with the leafy bough of a tree, some +water round him as he entered, from a vessel beside the door. This +convinced me that some of the emissaries of the Scarlet Woman had already +been busy among the benighted people, a conjecture, however, which proved +to be erroneous. + +I was now left standing by the altar, the attendants observing me with +respect which I feared might at any moment take the blasphemous form of +worship. Nor could I see how I was to check their adoration, and turn it +into the proper channel, if, as happened to Captain Cook, and has +frequently occurred since, these darkened idolaters mistook me for one of +their own deities. I might spurn them, indeed; but when Nicholson +adopted that course, and beat the Fakirs who worshipped him during the +Indian Mutiny, his conduct, as I have read, only redoubled their +enthusiasm. However, as events proved, they never at any time were +inclined to substitute me for their heathen divinities; very far from it +indeed, though their peculiar conduct was calculated to foster in my +breast this melancholy delusion. + +I had not been left long to my own thoughts when I marked lights +wandering in the garden or courtyard whither the messenger had been sent +by the old priest. Presently there came forth from the court a man of +remarkable stature, and with an air of seriousness and responsibility. In +his hand he carried a short staff, or baton, with gold knobs, and he wore +a thin golden circlet in his hair. As he drew near, the veil of the +temple was again lifted, and the aged priest came forward, bearing in his +arms a singular casket of wood, ornamented with alternate bands of gold +and ivory, carved with outlandish figures. The torch-bearers crowded +about us in the darkness, and it was a strange spectacle to behold the +smoky, fiery light shining on the men's faces and the rich coloured +dresses, or lighting up the white idol of Apollon, which stood among the +laurel trees at the entrance of the temple. + + + +III. THE PROPHECY. + + +The priest and the man with the gold circlet, whom I took to be a chief, +now met, and, fixing their eyes on me, held a conversation of which, +naturally, I understood nothing. I maintained an unmoved demeanour, and, +by way of showing my indifference, and also of impressing the natives +with the superiority of our civilization, I took out and wound up my +watch, which, I was glad to find, had not been utterly ruined by the salt +water. Meanwhile the priest was fumbling in his casket, whence he +produced a bundle of very ragged and smoky old bits of parchment and +scraps of potsherds. These he placed in the hands of his attendants, who +received them kneeling. From the very bottom of the casket he extracted +some thin plates of a greyish metal, lead, I believe, all mouldy, +stained, and ragged. Over these he pored and puzzled for some time, +trying, as I guessed, to make out something inscribed on this curious +substitute for writing-paper. I had now recovered my presence of mind, +and, thinking at once to astonish and propitiate, I drew from my pocket, +wiped, and presented to him my spectacles, indicating, by example, the +manner of their employment. No sooner did he behold these common +articles of every-day use, than the priest's knees began to knock +together, and his old hands trembled so that he could scarcely fix the +spectacles on his nose. When he had managed this it was plain that he +found much less difficulty with his documents. He now turned them +rapidly over, and presently discovered one thin sheet of lead, from which +he began to read, or rather chant, in a slow measured tone, every now and +then pausing and pointing to me, to my hat, and to the spectacles which +he himself wore at the moment. The chief listened to him gravely, and +with an expression of melancholy that grew deeper and sadder till the +end. It was a strange scene. + +I afterwards heard the matter of the prophecy, as it proved to be, which +was thus delivered. I have written it down in the language of the +natives, spelling it as best I might, and I give the translation which I +made when I became more or less acquainted with their very difficult +dialect. {23a} It will be seen that the prophecy, whatever its origin, +was strangely fulfilled. Perhaps the gods of this people were not mere +idols, but evil spirits, permitted, for some wise purpose, to delude +their unhappy worshippers. {23b} This, doubtless, they might best do by +occasionally telling the truth, as in my instance. But this +theory--namely, that the gods of the heathen are perhaps evil and +wandering spirits--is, for reasons which will afterwards appear, very +painful to me, personally reminding me that I may have sinned as few have +done since the days of the early Christians. But I trust this will not +be made a reproach to me in our Connection, especially as I have been the +humble instrument of so blessed a change in the land of the heathen, +there being no more of them left. But, to return to the prophecy, it is +given roughly here in English. It ran thus:--"But when a man, having a +chimney pot on his head, and four eyes, appears, and when a sail-less +ship also comes, sailing without wind and breathing smoke, then will +destruction fall upon the Scherian island." Perhaps, from this and other +expressions to be offered in a later chapter, the learned will be able to +determine whether the speech is of the Polynesian or the Papuan family, +or whether, as I sometimes suspect, it is of neither, but of a character +quite isolated and peculiar. + +The effect produced on the mind of the chief by the prophecy amazed me, +as he looked, for a native, quite a superior and intelligent person. None +of them, however, as I found, escaped the influence of their baneful +superstitions. Approaching me, he closely examined myself, my dress, and +the spectacles which the old priest now held in his hands. The two men +then had a hurried discussion, and I have afterwards seen reason to +suppose that the chief was pointing out the absence of certain important +elements in the fulfilment of the prophecy. Here was I, doubtless, "a +man bearing a chimney on his head" (for in this light they regarded my +hat), and having "four eyes," that is, including my spectacles, a +convenience with which they had hitherto been unacquainted. It was +undeniable that a prophecy written by a person not accustomed to the +resources of civilization, could not more accurately have described me +and my appearance. But the "ship without sails" was still lacking to the +completion of what had been foretold, as the chief seemed to indicate by +waving his hand towards the sea. For the present, therefore, they might +hope that the worst would not come to the worst. Probably this +conclusion brought a ray of hope into the melancholy face of the chief, +and the old priest himself left off trembling. They even smiled, and, in +their conversation, which assumed a lighter tone, I caught and recorded +in pencil on my shirt-cuff, for future explanation, words which sounded +like aiskistos aneer, farmakos, catharma, and Thargeelyah. {25} Finally +the aged priest hobbled back into his temple, and the chief, beckoning me +to follow, passed within the courtyard of his house. + + + +IV. AT THE CHIEF'S HOUSE. + + +The chief leading the way, I followed through the open entrance of the +courtyard. The yard was very spacious, and under the dark shade of the +trees I could see a light here and there in the windows of small huts +along the walls, where, as I found later, the slaves and the young men of +the family slept. In the middle of the space there was another altar, I +am sorry to say; indeed, there were altars everywhere. I never heard of +a people so religious, in their own darkened way, as these islanders. At +the further end of the court was a really large and even stately house, +with no windows but a clerestory, indicated by the line of light from +within, flickering between the top of the wall and the beginning of the +high-pitched roof. Light was also streaming through the wide doorway, +from which came the sound of many voices. The house was obviously full +of people, and, just before we reached the deep verandah, a roofed space +open to the air in front, they began to come out, some of them singing. +They had flowers in their hair, and torches in their hands. The chief, +giving me a sign to be silent, drew me apart within the shadow of a plane +tree, and we waited there till the crowd dispersed, and went, I presume, +to their own houses. There were no women among them, and the men carried +no spears nor other weapons. When the court was empty, we walked up the +broad stone steps and stood within the doorway. I was certainly much +surprised at what I saw. There was a rude magnificence about this house +such as I had never expected to find in the South Sea Islands. Nay, +though I am not unacquainted with the abodes of opulence at home, and +have been a favoured guest of some of our merchant princes (including +Messrs. Bunton, the eminent haberdashers, whose light is so generously +bestowed on our Connection), I admit that I had never looked on a more +spacious reception-room, furnished, of course, in a somewhat savage +manner, but, obviously, regardless of expense. The very threshold +between the court and the reception-room, to which you descended by +steps, was made of some dark metal, inlaid curiously with figures of +beasts and birds, also in metal (gold, as I afterwards learned), of +various shades of colour and brightness. + +At first I had some difficulty in making out the details of the vast +apartment which lay beyond. I was almost dizzy with hunger and fatigue, +and my view was further obscured by a fragrant blue smoke, which rose in +soft clouds from an open fireplace in the middle of the room. Singular +to say, there was no chimney, merely a hole in the lofty roof, through +which most of the smoke escaped. The ceiling itself, which was supported +by carved rafters, was in places quite black with the vapour of many +years. The smoke, however, was thin, and as the fuel on the fire, and on +the braziers, was of dry cedar and sandal-wood, the perfume, though +heavy, was not unpleasant. The room was partly illuminated by the fire +itself, partly by braziers full of blazing branches of trees; but, what +was most remarkable, there were rows of metal images of young men (naked, +I am sorry to say), with burning torches in their hands, ranged all along +the side walls. + +A good deal of taste, in one sense, had been expended in making these +images, and money had clearly been no object. I might have been somewhat +dazzled by the general effect, had I not reflected that, in my own +country, gas is within reach of the poorest purse, while the electric +light itself may be enjoyed by the very beggar in the street. Here, on +the contrary, the dripping of the wax from the torches, the black smoke +on the roof, the noisy crackling of the sandal-wood in the braziers, all +combined to prove that these natives, though ingenious enough in their +way, were far indeed below the level of modern civilization. The +abominable ceremony of the afternoon would have proved as much, and now +the absence of true _comfort_, even in the dwelling of a chief, made me +think once more of the hardships of a missionary's career. + +But I must endeavour to complete the picture of domestic life in the +island, which I now witnessed for the first time, and which will never be +seen again by Europeans. The walls themselves were of some dark but +glittering metal, on which designs in lighter metal were inlaid. There +were views of the chief going to the chase, his bow in his hand; of the +chief sacrificing to idols; of men and young women engaged in the soul- +destroying practice of promiscuous dancing; there were wild beasts, lions +among others; rivers, with fish in them; mountains, trees, the sun and +moon, and stars, all not by any means ill designed, for the work of +natives. The pictures, indeed, reminded me a good deal of the ugly +Assyrian curiosities in the British Museum, as I have seen them when +conducting the children of the Bungletonian Band of Hope through the +rooms devoted to the remains of Bible peoples, such as the Egyptians, +Hittites, and others. + +Red or blue curtains, strangely embroidered, hung over the doors, and +trophies of swords, shields, and spears, not of steel, but of some darker +metal, were fixed on the tall pillars that helped to prop the roof. At +the top of the wall, just beneath the open unglazed spaces, which +admitted light and air in the daytime, and wind and rain in bad weather, +was a kind of frieze, or coping, of some deep blue material. {30} All +along the sides of the hall ran carved seats, covered with pretty light +embroidered cloths, not very different from modern Oriental fabrics. The +carpets and rugs were precisely like those of India and Persia, and I +supposed that they must have been obtained through commerce. But I +afterwards learned that they were, beyond doubt, of native manufacture. + +At the further end of the room was a kind of platform, or dais, on which +tables were set with fruit and wine. But much more curious than the +furniture of the hall was the group of women sitting by the fire in the +centre. There sat in two rows some twenty girls, all busily weaving, and +throwing the shuttle from hand to hand, laughing and chattering in low +voices. In the midst of them, on a high chair of cedar-wood, decorated +with ivory, and with an ivory footstool, sat a person whom, in a +civilized country, one must have looked on with respect as a lady of high +rank. She, like her husband the chief, had a golden circlet twisted in +her hair, which was still brown and copious, and she wore an appearance +of command. + +At her feet, on a stool, reclined a girl who was, I must confess, of +singular beauty. Doto had long fair hair, a feature most unusual among +these natives. She had blue eyes, and an appearance of singular +innocence and frankness. She was, at the moment, embroidering a piece of +work intended, as I afterwards learned with deep pain, for the covering +of one of their idols, to whose service the benighted young woman was +devoted. Often in after days, I saw Doto stooping above her embroidery +and deftly interweaving the green and golden threads into the patterns of +beasts and flowers. Often my heart went out to this poor child of pagan +tribe, and I even pleased myself with the hope that some day, a reclaimed +and enlightened character, she might employ her skill in embroidering +slippers and braces for a humble vessel. I seemed to see her, a helpmate +meet for me, holding Mothers' Meetings, playing hymn-tunes on the lyre, +or the double pipes, the native instruments, and, above all, winning the +islanders from their cruel and abominable custom of exposing their infant +children on the mountains. How differently have all things been +arranged. + +But I am wandering from my story. When we reached the group by the +fireside, who had at first been unaware of our entrance, the chief's wife +gave a slight start, alarmed doubtless by my appearance. She could never +have seen, nor even dreamed of, such a spectacle as I must have +presented, haggard, ragged, faint with hunger, and worn with fatigue as I +was. The chief motioned to me that I should kneel at his wife's feet, +and kiss her hand, but I merely bowed, not considering this a fit moment +to protest otherwise against such sacrilegious mummeries. But the +woman--her name I learned later was Ocyale--did not take my attitude in +bad part. The startled expression of her face changed to a look of pity, +and, with a movement of her hand, she directed Doto to bring a large +golden cup from the table at the upper end of the room. Into this cup +she ladled some dark liquid from a bowl which was placed on a small three- +legged stand, or dumb waiter, close to her side. Next she spilt a little +of the wine on the polished floor, with an appearance of gravity which I +did not understand. It appears that this spilling of wine is a drink +offering to their idols. She then offered me the cup, which I was about +to taste, when I perceived that the liquor was indubitably _alcoholic_! + +A total abstainer, I had, I am thankful to say, strength enough to resist +the temptation thus adroitly thrust upon me. Setting down the cup, I +pointed to the badge of blue ribbon, which, though damp and colourless, +remained faithful to my button-hole. I also made signs I was hungry, and +would be glad of something to eat. My gestures, as far as the blue +ribbon went, must have been thrown away, of course, but any one could +understand that I was fainting from hunger. The mistress of the house +called to one of the spinning girls, who rose and went within the door +opening from the platform at the upper end of the room. She presently +returned with an old woman, a housekeeper, as we would say, and obviously +a faithful and familiar servant. After some conversation, of which I was +probably the topic, the old woman hobbled off, laughing. She soon came +back, bringing, to my extreme delight, a basket with cakes and goat +cheese, and some cold pork in a dish. + +I ought, perhaps, to say here that, in spite of the luxury of their +appointments, and their extraordinary habit of "eating and drinking all +day to the going down of the sun" (as one of their own poets says), these +islanders are by no means good cooks. I have tasted of more savoury +meats, dressed in coverings of leaves on hot stones, in Maori pahs, or in +New Caledonian villages, than among the comparatively civilized natives +of the country where I now found myself. Among the common people, +especially, there was no notion of hanging or keeping meat. Often have I +seen a man kill a hog on the floor of his house, cut it up, toast it, as +one may say, at the fire, and then offer the grilled and frequently under- +done flesh to his guests. Invariably the guests are obliged to witness +the slaughter of the animal which is to supply their dinner. This +slaughter is performed as a kind of sacrifice; the legs of the beast are +the portions of the gods, and are laid, with bits of fat, upon the +altars. Then chops, or rather kabobs, of meat are hacked off, spitted, +and grilled or roasted at the fire. Consequently all the meat tasted in +this island is actually "meat offered to idols." + +When I made this discovery the shock was very great, and I feared I was +repeating a sin denounced from the earliest ages. But what was I to do? +Not the meat only, but the vegetables, the fruit, the grain, the very +fish (which the natives never eat except under stress of great hunger), +were sacred to one or other of their innumerable idols. I must eat, or +starve myself to death--a form of suicide. I therefore made up my mind +to eat without scruple, remembering that the gods of the nations are +nothing at all, but the fancies of vain dreamers, and the invention of +greedy and self-seeking priests. + +These scruples were of later growth, after I had learned that their meals +were invariably preceded by a sacrifice, partly to provide the food, +partly as grace before meat. On the present occasion I made an excellent +supper, though put to a good deal of inconvenience by the want of forks, +which were entirely unknown on the island. Finding that I would not +taste the alcoholic liquor, which the natives always mixed with a large +proportion of water, Doto rose, went out, and returned with a great bowl +of ivy-wood, curiously carved, and full of milk. In this permitted +beverage, as my spirits were rising, I drank the young lady's health, +indicating my gratitude as well as I could. She bowed gracefully, and +returned to her task of embroidery. Meanwhile her father and mother were +deep in conversation, and paid no attention to me, obviously +understanding that my chief need was food. I could not but see that the +face of the chief's wife was overclouded, probably with anxiety caused by +the prophecy of which I was, or was taken for, the subject. + +When my hunger was satisfied, I fell, it seems, into a kind of doze, from +which I was wakened by the noise of people rising, moving, and pushing +back chairs. I collected my senses, and perceived that the room was +almost dark, most of the inmates had gone, and the chief was lighting a +torch at one of the braziers. This torch he placed in my hand, +indicating, as I understood, that I was to put myself under the guidance +of two of the young women who had been spinning. At this I was somewhat +perplexed, but followed where they went before me, each of them holding a +burning torch. The light flared and the smoke drifted among the +corridors, till we came within sound of running water. In a lofty green +chamber was a large bath of polished marble, carved with shapes of men +armed with pitchforks, and employed in spearing fish. The bath was full +of clear water, of somewhat higher than tepid heat, and the stream, +welling up in one part, flowed out in another, not splashing or spilling. +The young women now brought flasks of oil, large sponges, such as are +common in these seas, and such articles of dress as are worn by the men +among the natives. But, to my astonishment, the girls showed no +intention of going away, and it soon became evident _that they meant to +assist me in my toilet_! I had some difficulty in getting them to +understand the indecorum of their conduct, or rather (for I doubt if they +understood it after all) in prevailing on them to leave me. I afterwards +learned that this custom, shocking as it appears to Europeans, is +regarded as entirely right and usual even by the better class of +islanders; nor, to do them justice, have I ever heard any imputations on +the morality of their women. Except among the shepherds and +shepherdesses in the rural districts, whose conduct was very regardless, +a high standard of modesty prevailed among the female natives. In this, +I need not say, they were a notable exception among Polynesian races. + +Left to my own devices by the retreat of the young women, I revelled in +the pleasures of the bath, and then the question arose, How was I to be +clothed? + +I had, of course, but one shirt with me, and that somewhat frayed and +worn. My boots, too, were almost useless from their prolonged immersion +in salt water. Yet I could not bring myself to adopt the peculiar dress +of the natives, though the young persons had left in the bath-room +changes of raiment such as are worn by the men of rank. These garments +were simple, and not uncomfortable, but, as they showed the legs from the +knees downwards, like kilts, I felt that they would be unbecoming to one +in my position. + +Almost the chief distinction between civilized man and the savage, is the +wearing of trousers. When a missionary in Tongo, and prime minister of +King Haui Ha there, I made the absence of breeches in the males an +offence punishable by imprisonment. Could I, on my very first appearance +among the islanders to-morrow, fly, as it were, in the face of my own +rules, and prove false to my well-known and often expressed convictions? +I felt that such backsliding was impossible. On mature consideration, +therefore, I made the following arrangement. + +The garments of the natives, when they condescended to wear any, were but +two in number. First, there was a long linen or woollen shirt or smock, +without sleeves, which fell from the neck to some distance below the +knees. This shirt I put on. A belt is generally worn, into which the +folds of the smock can be drawn up or "kilted," when the wearer wishes to +have his limbs free for active exercise. The other garment is simply a +large square piece of stuff, silken or woollen as it happens in +accordance with the weather, and the rank of the wearer. In this a man +swathes himself, somewhat as a Highlander does in his plaid, pinning it +over the shoulder and leaving the arms free. When one is accustomed to +it, this kind of dress is not uncomfortable, and many of the younger +braves carried it with a good deal of grace, showing some fancy and +originality in the dispositions of the folds. Though attired in this +barbarous guise, I did not, of course, dispense with my trousers, which, +being black, contrasted somewhat oddly with my primrose-coloured ki ton, +as they call the smock, and the dark violet clamis, or plaid. When the +natives do not go bareheaded, they usually wear a kind of light, soft +wideawake, but this. I discarded in favour of my hat, which had already +produced so remarkable an effect on their superstitious minds. + +Now I was dressed, as fittingly as possible in the circumstances, but I +felt that my chief need was a bed to lie down upon. I did not wish to +sleep in the bath-room, so, taking my torch from the stand in which I had +placed it, I sallied forth into the corridors, attired as I have +described, and carrying my coat under my arm. A distant light, and the +noise of females giggling, which increased most indecorously as I drew +near, attracted my attention. Walking in the direction of the sounds, I +soon discovered the two young women to whose charge I had been committed +by the chief. They appeared to be in high spirits, and, seizing my arms +before I could offer any resistance, they dragged me at a great pace down +the passage and out into the verandah. Here the air was very fragrant +and balmy, and a kind of comfortable "shakedown" of mattresses, covered +with coloured blankets, had been laid for me in a corner. I lay down as +soon as the sound of the young women's merriment died out in the +distance, and after the extraordinary events of the night, I was soon +sleeping as soundly as if I had been in my father's house at Hackney +Wick. + + + +V. A STRANGER ARRIVES. + + +When I wakened next morning, wonderfully refreshed by sleep and the +purity of the air, I had some difficulty in remembering where I was and +how I came there in such a peculiar costume. But the voices of the +servants in the house, and the general stir of people going to and fro, +convinced me that I had better be up and ready to put my sickle into this +harvest of heathen darkness. Little did I think how soon the heathen +darkness would be trying to put the sickle into me! I made my way with +little difficulty, being guided by the sound of the running water, to the +bath-room, and thence into the gardens. These were large and remarkably +well arranged in beds and plots of flowers and fruit-trees. I +particularly admired a fountain in the middle, which watered the garden, +and supplied both the chief's house and the town. Returning by way of +the hall, I met the chief, who, saluting me gravely, motioned me to one +of many small tables on which was set a bowl of milk, some cakes, and +some roasted kid's flesh. + +After I had done justice to this breakfast, he directed me to follow him, +and, walking before me with his gold-knobbed staff in his hand, passed +out of the shady court into the public square. Here we found a number of +aged men seated on unpleasantly smooth and cold polished stones in a +curious circle of masonry. They were surrounded by a crowd of younger +men, shouting, laughing, and behaving with all the thoughtless levity and +merriment of a Polynesian mob. They became silent as the chief +approached, and the old men rose from their places till he had taken a +kind of rude throne in the circle. + +For my part, I was obliged to stand alone in their midst, and it seemed +that they were debating about myself and my future treatment. First the +old priest, whom I had seen on the night before, got up, and, as I +fancied, his harangue was very unfavourable to me. He pointed at the +inevitable flower-crowned altar which, of course, was in the centre of +the market-place, and from the way he shook a sickle he held in his hand +I believe that he was proposing to sacrifice me on the spot. In the +midst of his oration two vultures, black with white breasts, flew high +over our heads, chasing a dove, which they caught and killed right above +the market-place, so that the feathers fell down on the altar. The +islanders, as I afterwards discovered, are full of childish superstitions +about the flight of birds, from which they derive omens as to future +events. The old priest manifestly attempted to make political capital +against me out of the interesting occurrence in natural history which we +had just observed. He hurried to the altar, caught up a handful of the +bleeding feathers, and, with sickle in hand, was rushing towards me, when +he tripped over the head of a bullock that had lately been sacrificed, +and fell flat on his face, while the sickle flew far out of his hand. + +On this the young men, who were very frivolous, like most of the +islanders, laughed aloud, and even the elders smiled. The chief now rose +with his staff in his grasp, and, pointing first to me and then to the +sky, was, I imagined, propounding a different interpretation of the omen +from that advanced by the old priest. Meantime the latter, with a sulky +expression of indifference, sat nursing his knees, which had been a good +deal damaged by his unseemly sprawl on the ground. When the chief sat +down, a very quiet, absent-minded old gentleman arose. Elatreus was his +name, as I learned later; his family had a curious history, and he +himself afterwards came to an unhappy and terrible end, as will be shown +in a subsequent part of my narrative. + +I felt quite at home, as if I had been at some vestry-meeting, or some +committee in the old country, when Elatreus got up. He was stout, very +bald, and had a way of thrusting his arm behind him, and of humming and +hawing, which vividly brought back to mind the oratory of my native land. +He had also, plainly enough, the trick of forgetting what he intended to +say, and of running off after new ideas, a trick very uncommon among +these natives, who are born public speakers. I flattered myself that +this orator was in favour of leniency towards me, but nobody was paying +much attention to him, when a shout was heard from the bottom of the hill +on which the square is built. Everybody turned round, the elders jumped +up with some alacrity for the sake of a better view on the polished +stones where they had been sitting, and so much was the business before +the meeting forgotten in the new excitement, that I might have run away +unnoticed, had there been anywhere to run to. But flight was out of the +question, unless I could get a boat and some provisions, and I had +neither. I was pleased, however, to see that I was so lightly and laxly +guarded. + +The cause of the disturbance was soon apparent. A number of brown, half- +naked, sturdy sailors, with red caps, not unlike fezzes, on their heads, +appeared, bawling and making for the centre of the square. They were +apparently carrying or dragging some person with them, some person who +offered a good deal of resistance. Among the foreign and unintelligible +cries and howls which rang through the market-place, my heart leaped up, +in natural though unsanctified pleasure, as I heard the too well-known +but unexpected accents of British profanity. + +"Where the (somewhere) are you blooming sons of beach-combers dragging a +Bri'sh shailor? Shtand off, you ragged set of whitewashed Christy +Minstrels, you! Where's the Bri'sh Conshul's? Take me, you longshore +sons of sharks, to the Bri'sh Conshul's! If there's one white man among +you let him stand out and hit a chap his own weight." + +"Hullo!" suddenly cried the speaker, whom I had recognized as William +Bludger, one of the most depraved and regardless of the whole wicked crew +of the Blackbird,--"hullo, if here isn't old Captain Hymn-book!"--a +foolish nickname the sailors had given me. + +He was obviously more than half-drunk, and carried in his hand a black +rum-bottle, probably (from all I knew of him) not nearly full. His shirt +and trousers were torn and dripping; apparently he had been washed +ashore, like myself, after the storm, and had been found and brought into +the town by some of the fishing population. + +What a blow to all my hopes was the wholly unlooked-for arrival of this +tipsy, irreclaimable seaman, this unawakened Bill Bludger! I had framed +an ideal of what my own behaviour, in my trying circumstances, ought to +be. Often had I read how these islanders possess a tradition that a +wonderful white man, a being all sweetness and lucidity, landed in their +midst, taught them the knowledge of the arts, converted them to peace and +good manners, and at last mysteriously departed, promising that he would +return again. I had hopes--such things have happened--that the islanders +might take me for this wonderful white man of their traditions, come back +according to his promise. If this delusion should occur, I would not at +once undeceive them, but take advantage of the situation, and so bring +them all into the Bungletonian fold. I knew there was no time to waste. +Lutheran, French, or Church of England schemers, in schooners, might even +now be approaching the island, with their erroneous and deplorable +tenets. Again, I had reckoned, if my hopes proved false, on attaining, +not without dignity, the crown of the proto-martyr of my Connection. +Beyond occasional confinement in police cells, consequent on the +strategic manoeuvres of the Salvation Army, none of us had ever known +what it was to suffer in the cause. If I were to be the first to testify +with my blood, on this unknown soil, at least I could meet my doom with +dignity. In any case, I should be remembered, I had reckoned, in the +island traditions, either as an isolated and mysterious benefactor, the +child of an otherwise unknown race, or as a solitary martyr from afar. + +All these vain hopes of spiritual pride were now blown to the wind by +Bill Bludger's unexpected appearance and characteristic conduct. No +delusions about a divine white stranger from afar could survive the +appearance and behaviour of so compromising an acquaintance as William. +He was one white stranger too many. There he was, still struggling, +shouting, swearing, smelling of rum, and making frantic attempts to reach +me and shake hands with me. + +"Let bygones be bygones, Captain Hymn-book, your Reverence," he screamed; +"here's your jolly good health and song," and he put his horrible black +bottle to his unchastened lips. "Here we are, Captain, two Englishmen +agin a lot o' blooming Kanekas; let's clear out their whole blessed town, +and steer for Sydney." + +But, perceiving that I did not intend to recognize or carouse with him, +William Bludger now changed his tone; "Yah, you lily-livered +Bible-reader," he exclaimed, "what are you going about in _that_ toggery +for: copying Mr. Toole in Paw Claudian? _You_ call yourself a +missionary? Jove, you're more like a blooming play hactor in a penny +gaff! Easy, then, my hearties," he added, seeing that the fishermen were +approaching him again, with ropes in their hands. "Avast! stow your +handcuffs." + +In spite of his oaths and struggles, the inebriated mariner was firmly +bound, hand and foot, and placed in the centre of the assembly. I only +wished that the natives had also gagged him, for his language, though, of +course, unintelligible to them, was profane, and highly painful to me. + +Before returning to business, the chiefs carefully inspected the black +bottle, of which they had dispossessed William Bludger. A golden vase +was produced--they had always plenty of _them_ handy--and the dark fluid +was poured into this princely receptacle, diffusing a strong odour of +rum. Each chief carefully tasted the stuff, and I was pained, on +gathering, from the expression of their countenances, that they obviously +relished the "fire-water" which has been the ruin of so many peoples in +these beautiful but benighted seas. However, there was not enough left +to go round, and it was manifestly unlikely that William Bludger had +succeeded in conveying larger supplies from the wreck. + +The meeting now assumed its former air of earnestness, and it was not +hard to see that the arrival of my unhappy and degraded fellow-countryman +had introduced a new element into the debate. Man after man spoke, and +finally the chief rose, as I had little doubt, to sum up the discussion. +He pointed to myself, and to William Bludger alternately, and the words +which I had already noted, Thargeelyah, and farmakoi, frequently recurred +in his speech. His ideas seemed to meet with general approval; even the +old priest laid aside his sickle, and beat applause with his hands. He +next rose, and, taking two garlands of beautiful flowers from the horns +of the altar, placed one wreath on the head of the drunken sailor, who +had fallen asleep by this time. He then drew near me, and I had little +doubt that he meant to make me also wear a garland, like some woman of +rank and fashion at a giddy secular entertainment. Whatever his motive +might be I was determined to wear nothing of the kind. But here some +attendants grappled and held me, my hat was lifted from my brows, and the +circlet of blossoms was carefully entwined all round my hat. The head- +covering was then replaced, the whole assembly, forming a circle, danced +around me and the unconscious Bludger, and, finally, the old priest, +turning his face alternately to me and to the sun, intoned a hymn, the +audience joining in at intervals. + +My worst fears were, apparently, being realized. In spite of the +compromising appearance and conduct of Bludger, it seemed beyond doubt +that we were both regarded as, in some degree, divine and sacred. +Resistance on my part was, it will be seen, impossible. I could not +escape from the hands of my tormentors, and I was so wholly ignorant, at +that time, of their tongue, that I knew not how to disclaim the honours +thus blasphemously thrust upon me. I did my best, shouting, in English, +"I am no Thargeelyah. I am no farmakos" supposing those words to be the +native terms for one or other of their gods. On this the whole assembly, +even the gravest, burst out laughing, each man poking his neighbour in +the ribs, and uttering what I took to be jests at my expense. Their +behaviour in this juncture, and frequently afterwards, when I attempted +to make them tell me the meaning of the unknown words, and of catharma +(another expression the chief had used), greatly perplexed me. I had +afterwards too good reason to estimate their dreadful lack of the +ordinary feelings of humanity at its true value. + +However, nothing but laughter (most unfitting the occasion) could be got +out of the assembled natives. They now began to return to their homes, +and Bludger, crowned with flowers that became him but ill, was carried +off, not, as it seemed to me, without even a reverential demeanour on the +part of his escort. Those who surrounded me, a kind of body-guard of six +young men, had entirely recovered their composure, and behaved to me with +a deference that was astonishing, but reassuring. From this time, I +ought to say, though permitted to go where I would, and allowed to +observe even their most secret rites, enjoying opportunities such as will +never fall to another European, I was never, but once, entirely alone. My +worshippers, as they might almost be called, so humble was their +demeanour, still kept watchful eyes upon me, as if I were a being so +precious that they were jealous of my every movement. It was now made +plain to me, by signs, that I must wait for some little space before +being conveyed to my appointed residence. + + + +VI. A BACKSLIDER. A WARNING. + + +We had not remained long by ourselves in the square, when the most +extraordinary procession which I had ever beheld began to climb into the +open space from the town beneath. I do not know if I have made it +sufficiently clear that the square, on the crest of the isolated hill +above the sea, was occupied only by public buildings, such as the temple, +the house of the chief, and a large edifice used as a kind of town hall, +so to speak. The natives in general lived in much smaller houses, many +of them little better than huts, and divided by extremely narrow and +filthy streets, on the slopes, and along the shores of the bay. + +It was from these houses and from all the country round that the +procession, with persons who fell into its ranks as they came, was now +making its way. Almost all the parties concerned were young, boys and +girls, or very young men and women, and though their dress was much +scantier and less decent than what our ideas of delicacy require, it must +be admitted that the general aspect of the procession was far from +unpleasing. The clothes and wraps which the men and women wore were of +various gay colours, and were, in most cases, embroidered quite skilfully +with representations of flowers, fruits, wild beasts, and individuals of +grotesque appearance. Every one was crowned with either flowers or +feathers. + +But, most remarkable of all, there was scarcely a person in this large +gathering who did not bring or lead some wild bird or beast. The girls +carried young wild doves, young rooks, or the nestlings of such small +fowls as sparrows and finches. It was a pretty sight to see these poor +uninstructed young women, flushed with the exertion of climbing, and +merry, flocking into the square, each with her pet (as I supposed, but +the tender mercies of the heathen are cruel) half hidden in the folds of +her gown. Of the young men, some carried hawks, some chained eagles, +some young vultures. Many were struggling, too, with wild stags and wild +goats, which they compelled with the utmost difficulty to march in the +ranks of the procession. A number of young persons merely bore in their +hands such fruits as were in season, obviously fine specimens, of which +they had reason to be proud. + +Others, again, were carrying little young bears, all woolly, comfortable- +looking creatures, while the parent bears, adult bears at any rate, were +brought along, chained, in the rear. My guards, or adorers, or whatever +the young men who looked after me really were, led me forward, and made +signs to me that I was to bring up the rear of the procession--behind the +bears, which made no attempt (as in the case of the prophet) to take the +part of a Minister of the Bungletonian Connection. What a position for +one who would fain have been opening the eyes of this darkened people to +better things! But, till I had acquired some knowledge of their +language, I felt my only chance was to acquiesce in everything not +positively sinful. The entrance of a menagerie and horticultural +exhibition into the town--for thus I explained to myself what was going +on before my eyes--could not be severely censured by the harshest critic, +and I prepared to show my affability by joining in an innocent diversion +and popular entertainment. + +Soon I found that, after all, I was not to be absolutely last in the +advance of this miscellaneous exhibition, nor were the intentions of the +people so harmless as I had imagined. This was no affair of cottage +window gardens, and a distribution of prizes. + +The crowd which had collected in front of the chief's house opened +suddenly, and, in the throng of people, I detected a movement of +excitement and alarm. Next I saw the horns of animals mixed with the +heads and shoulders of the multitude, and then an extraordinary spectacle +burst, at full speed, upon my gaze. Four great wild stags, plunging, +rearing, and kicking, rushed by, dragging a small vehicle of unusual +shape, in which stood, to my horror, the chief's beautiful daughter, +Doto. The vehicle passed me like a flash of horns, in spite of the +attempts of four resolute men, who clung at the stags' heads to restrain +the impetuosity of these coursers. The car, I should explain--though I +can hardly expect to be believed--was not unlike the floor of a hansom +cab, from which the seat, the roof, the driver's perch, and everything +else should have been removed, except the basis, the wheels, and the +splashboard, the part on which we generally find the advertisements of +Messrs. Mappin and Webb. On this floor, then, Doto stood erect, holding +the reins; her yellow hair had become unbound, and was floating like a +flag behind her, and her beautiful face, far from displaying any alarm, +was flushed with pleasure and pride. She was dressed in splendid and +glittering attire, over which was fastened--so strange were the manners +of these islanders--the newly-stripped skin of a great black bear. Thus +dragged by the wild deer, Doto passed like a flash through the midst of +the men and women, her stags being maddened to fresh excitement by the +sight and smell of the bears, and other wild animals. But, eager as were +the brutes that dragged the precarious carriage, they were somewhat tamed +by the great steepness of the ascent, up which they bounded, to the +heights at the back of the town. Up this path, often narrow and +excessively dangerous, we all took our way, and finally, after passing +through various perilous defiles and skirting many cliffs, we arrived at +a level space in front of an ancient temple of one of their heathen gods. +It was built like the others in the settlement below, but the white stone +had become brown and yellow with time and weather, and the colours, +chiefly red and blue, with which the graven images, in contempt of the +second commandment, were painted, had faded, and grown very dim. + +On the broad platform in front of this home of evil spirits had been +piled a great mound of turf, sloping very gradually and smoothly, like +the terrace of a well-kept lawn, to the summit, which itself was, +perhaps, a hundred feet in circumference. On this was erected a kind of +breastwork of trunks of trees, each tree some fifteen feet in length, and +in the centre of the circular breastwork was an altar, as usual, under +which blazed a fire of great fierceness. From the temple came a very +aged woman, dressed in bear skins, who carried a torch. This torch she +lit at the blaze under the altar, and a number of the young men, lighting +their torches at hers, set fire to the outer breastwork, in which certain +open spaces or entrances had been purposely left. No sooner had the +trees begun to catch fire, which they did slowly, being of green wood, +than the multitude outside, with the most horrible and piercing outcries, +began to drive the animals which they had brought with them into the +midst of the flames. + +The spectacle was one of the most terrible I ever beheld, even among this +cruel and outlandish people, whose abominable inventions contrasted so +strangely with the mildness of their demeanour where their religion was +not concerned. It was pitiful to see the young birds, many of them not +yet able to fly, flutter into the flames and the stifling smoke, and then +fall, scorched, and twittering miserably. The young lambs and other +domesticated animals were forced in without much resistance, but the +great difficulty was to urge the wolves, antelopes, and other wild +creatures, into the blaze. The cries of the multitude, who bounded about +like maniacs, armed with clubs and torches, rose madly over the strange +unusual screams and howls uttered by the wild beasts in their pain and +terror. Ever and anon some animal would burst through the crowd, perhaps +half burned, and with its fur on fire, and would be pursued to a certain +distance, after which it was allowed to escape by the sacrificers. As I +was watching, with all my hopes enlisted on its side, the efforts of an +antelope to escape, I heard a roar which was horrible even in that babel +of abominable sights and sounds. + +A great black bear, its pelt one sheet of flame, its whole appearance (if +I may be permitted to say so) like that of a fiend from the pit, forced +its way through the throng, and, bounding madly to the spot where Doto's +car stood at a little distance, rose erect on its hind feet, and fixed +its claws in the flank of one of the stags, the off-leader. Instantly +the team of stags, escaping from the hands of the strong men who stood at +their heads, plunged violently down the narrow and dangerous path which +led to the city. I shouted to Doto to leap out, but she did not hear or +did not understand me. + +With a fixed look of horror on her white face, she dropped the useless +reins, and the vehicle passed out of sight round a corner of the cliff. + +I had but a moment in which to reflect on what might be done to rescue +her. In that moment I providentially spied a double-edged axe which lay +beside me on the grass, having fallen from the hands of one of the +natives. Snatching up this weapon, I rushed to the edge of the cliff, +and looked down. It was almost a sheer precipice, broken only by narrow +shelves and clefts, on some of which grass grew, while on others a slight +mountain-ash or a young birch just managed to find foothold. + +Far, far beneath, hundreds of feet below, I could trace the windings of +the path up which we had climbed. + +Instantly my plan was conceived. I would descend the cliff, risking my +life, of course, but that was now of small value in this hopelessly +heathen land, and endeavour to save the benighted Doto from the +destruction to which she was hastening. Her car must pass along that +portion of the path which lay, like a ribbon, in the depth below me, +unless, as seemed too probable, it chanced to be upset before reaching +the spot. To pursue it from behind was manifestly hopeless. + +These thoughts flashed through my brain more rapidly than even the flight +of the maddened red deer; and scarcely less swiftly, I began scrambling +down the face of the cliff. It was really a series of almost hopeless +leaps to which I was committed, and the axe, to which I clung, rather +impeded than aided me as I let myself drop from one rocky shelf to +another, catching at the boughs and roots of trees to break my fall. At +last I reached the last ledge before the sheer wall of rock, which hung +above the path. As I let myself down, feeling with my feet for any shelf +or crack in the wall, I heard the blare of the stags, and the rattle of +the wheels. Half intentionally, half against my will, I left my hold of +a tree-root, and slid, bumping and scratching myself terribly, down the +slippery and slatey face of the rocky wall, till I fell in a mass on the +narrow road. In a moment I was on my feet, the axe I had thrown in front +of me, and I grasped it instinctively as I rose. It was not too soon. +The deer were almost on me. Stepping to the side of the way, where a +rock gave some shelter, I dealt a blow at the nearest stag, under which +he reeled and fell to the ground, his companion stumbling over him. In +the mad group of rearing beasts I smote right and left at the harness, +which gave way beneath my strokes, and the unhurt stags sped down the +glen, and then rushed into separate corries of the hills. The car was +upset, and Doto lay pale and bleeding among the hoofs of the stricken +deer. + +I dragged her out of the danger to the side of the path. I felt her +pulse, which still fluttered. I brought her, in my hat, water from the +stream; and, finally, had the pleasure of seeing her return to life +before the first of her friends came, wailing and lamenting, and tearing +their hair, down the path. + +When they found the girl unwounded, though still weak and faint, their +joy knew no bounds, though I too plainly perceived that they were +returning thanks to the heathen goddess whose priestess Doto was. As for +me, they once more crowned me in the most elaborate, and, I think, +unbecoming manner, with purple pandanus flowers. Then, having laid Doto +on a litter, they returned in procession to the town, where the girl was +taken into the chiefs house. As we parted, she held out her hand to me, +but instantly withdrew it with a deep sigh. I closely watched her. She +was weeping. I had noticed before that all the natives, as much as +possible, avoided personal contact with me. This fact, coupled with the +reverence which they displayed towards me, confirmed my impression that +they regarded me as something supernatural, not of this world, and +divine. + +To remove this belief was most certainly my duty, but how was it to be +done? Alas! I must now admit that I yielded to a subtle temptation, and +was led into conduct unworthy of a vessel. Sad to say, as I search the +rewards of my own heart, I am compelled to confess that my real desire +was not so much to undeceive the people--for in their bewildering myriads +of foolish beliefs one more or less was of small importance--as to +recommend myself to Doto. This young woman, though not a member of our +Connection, and wholly ignorant of saving Truths, had begun to find +favour in my eyes, and I hoped to lead her to the altar; altars, for that +matter, being plentiful enough in this darkened land. I should have +remembered the words once spoken by a very gracious young woman, the +daughter of a pious farmer. "Mother," said she, "I have made up my mind +never to let loose my affections upon any man as is not pious, and in +good circumstances." Doto was, for an islander, in good circumstances, +but who, ah! who, could call her pious? + +I endeavoured, it is true, to convert her, but, ah! did I go to work in +the right way? Did I draw, in awful colours, the certain consequences of +ignorance of the Truth? Did I endeavour to strike a salutary terror into +her heathen heart? + +No; such would have been a proper course of conduct, but such was not +mine! I weakly adopted the opposite plan--that used by the Jesuits in +their dealings with the Chinese and other darkened peoples. I attempted, +meanly attempted (but, as may be guessed, with but limited success), to +give an orthodox Nonconformist character to the observances of Doto's +religion. For example, instead of thundering, as was my duty, at her +worldly diversions of promiscuous dancing, and ball play, I took a part +in these secular pursuits, fondly persuading myself that my presence +discouraged levity, and was a check upon unseemly mirth. + +Thus, among the young native men and maidens, in the windings of the mazy +dance, might have been seen disporting himself, a person of stalwart +form, whose attire still somewhat faintly indicated his European origin +and sacred functions. A hymn-book in my hand instead of a rattle (used +by the natives), I capered gaily through their midst. Often and often I +led the music, instructing my festive flock in English hymns, which, +however, I adapted to gay and artless melodies, such as "There's some one +in de house wid Dinah!" or "Old Joe kicking up behind and afore!" + +This kind of entertainment was entirely new to the natives, who heartily +preferred it to their own dull music, resembling what are called, I +believe, "Gregorians," by a bloated and Erastian establishment. + +So far, then, I may perchance trust that my efforts were not altogether +vain, and the seed thus sown may, in one or two cases, have fallen on +ground not absolutely stony. But, alas! I have little room for hope. + +I pursued my career of unblushing "economy"--as the Jesuits say, meaning, +alas! economy of plain truth speaking--and of heathen dissipation. Few +were the dances in which I did not take a part, sinking so low as +occasionally to oblige with a hornpipe. My blue ribbon had long ago worn +out, and with it my strict views on Temperance. I acquired a liking for +the strange drink of the islanders--a thick wine and water, sometimes +mixed with cheese and honey. In fact, I was sliding back--like the +unfortunate Fanti missionary, John Greedy, M.A., whose case, as reported +by precious Mr. Grant Allen, so painfully moved serious circles--I was +sliding back to the level of the savagery around me. May these +confessions be accepted in the same spirit as they are offered; may it +partly palliate my guilt that I had apparently no chance of escape from +the island, and no hope beyond that of converting the natives and +marrying Doto. I trusted to do it, not (as of old) by open and fearless +denunciation, but by slowly winning hearts, in a secular and sportive +capacity, before gaining souls. + +Even so have I seen young priests of the prelatical Establishment aim at +popularity by playing cricket with liberal coal-miners of sectarian +persuasions. They told me they were "in the mission field," and one +observed that his favourite post in the field was third man. I know not +what he meant. But to return to the island. + +My career of soul-destroying "amusement" (ah, how hollow!) was not +uninterrupted by warnings. Every now and again the mask was raised, and +I saw clearly the unspeakable horrors of heathen existence. + +For example, in an earlier part of this narrative, I have mentioned an +old heathen called Elatreus, a good-natured, dull, absent-minded man, who +reminded me of a respectable British citizen. How awful was _his_ end, +how trebly awful when I reflect how nearly I--but let me not anticipate. +Elatreus was the head, and eldest surviving member of a family which had +a singular history. I never could make out what the story was, but, in +consequence of some ancient crime, the chief of the family was never +allowed to enter the town hall. The penalty, if he infringed the law, +was terrible. Now it chanced one day that I was wandering down the +street, my hands full of rare flowers which I had gathered for Doto, and +with four young doves in my hat. It was spring, and at that season the +young persons of the island expected to receive such gifts from their +admirers. I was also followed by eleven little fawns, which I had tamed +for her, and four young whelps of the bear. At the same time, in the +lightness of my foolish heart, I was singing a native song, all about one +Lityerses, to the tune of "Barbara Allen." + +At this moment, I observed, coming out of a side street, old Elatreus. He +was doddering along, his hands behind his back, and his nose in the air, +followed by a small but increasing crowd of the natives, who crept +stealthily behind at a considerable distance. I paused to watch what was +happening. + +Elatreus entered the main street, and lounged along till he came opposite +the town hall, on which some repairs were being made. The door stood +wide open. He gazed at it, in a vacant but interested way, and went up +the steps, where he stood staring in an absent-minded, vacant kind of +fashion. I could see that the crowd watching him from the corner of the +side street was vastly excited. + +Elatreus now passed his hand across his brow, seemed vastly puzzled, and +yawned. Then he slowly entered the town hall. With a wild yell of +savage triumph the mob rushed in after him, and in a few moments came +forth again, with Elatreus bound and manacled. Some one sped away, and +brought the old priest, who carried the sickle. He appeared full of joy, +and lustily intoned--for they have this Popish custom of intoning--an +unintelligible hymn. By this time Elatreus had been wreathed and crowned +with flowers, and the rude multitude for this purpose seized the +interesting orchids which I had gathered for my Doto. They then dragged +the old man, pitifully lamenting, to the largest altar in the centre of +the square. + +Need I say what followed? The scene was too awful. With a horrible +expression of joy the priest laid the poor wretch on the great stone +altar, and with his keen sickle--but it is too horrible! . . . This was +the penalty for a harmless act, forbidden by a senseless law, which +Elatreus--a most respectable man for an idolater--had broken in mere +innocent absence of mind. + +Alas! among such a people, how could I ever hope, alone and unaided, to +effect any truly regenerating work? + +Yet I was not wholly discouraged; indeed, my _infatuation_ for Doto made +me overlook much profligate behaviour that I do not care to mention in a +tract which may fall into the hands of the young. One other example of +the native barbarity, however, I must narrate. + +A respected couple in the vicinity had long been childless. At length +their wishes were crowned with success, and a little baby girl was born +to them. But the priest, who had curious ideas of his own, insisted on +consulting, as to this child, a certain witch, a woman who dwelt apart in +a cave where there was a sulphurous hot-water spring, surrounded by +laurel bushes, regarded as sacred by the benighted islanders. This +spring, or the fumes that arose from it, was supposed to confer on the +dweller in the cave the gift of prophecy. She was the servant of +Apollon, and was credited with possessing a spirit of divination. The +woman, after undergoing, or simulating, an epileptic attack, declared, in +rhythmical language, that the babe must not be allowed to live. She +averred that it would "bring destruction on Scheria," the native name for +the island, which I have styled Boothland, in honour of the Salvation +Army. This was enough for the priests, who did not actually slay the +infant, but exposed it on the side of a mountain, where the beasts and +birds were likely to have their way with it. + +Now it chanced that I had climbed the hill-top that day to watch for a +sail, for I never quite lost hope of being taken away by some British or +continental vessel. My attendants, for a wonder, were all absent at some +feast--Carneia, I think they called it--of their heathen gods. The time +was early summer; it only wanted a fortnight of the date, as far as I +could reckon, at which I had first been cast on the island, a year +before. + +As I descended the hillside, pleased, I must own, by the warm blight +sunlight, the colour of the sea, and the smell of the aromatic +herbs,--pleased, and half forgetful of the horrid heathenism that +surrounded me, I heard a low wail as of an infant. I searched about, in +surprise, and came on a beautiful baby, in rich swaddling bands, with a +gold signet ring tied round its neck. Such an occurrence was not very +unusual, as the natives, like most savages, were in the habit of keeping +down the surplus population, by thus exposing their little ones. The +history of the island was full of legends of exposed children, picked up +by the charitable (there was, oddly enough, no prohibition against this), +and afterwards recognized and welcomed by their families. As any +Englishman would have done, I lifted the dear little thing in my arms, +and, a happy thought occurring to me, carried it off as a present to +Doto, who doted on babies, as all girls do. The gift proved to be the +most welcome that I had ever offered, though Doto, as usual, would not +accept it from my hands, but made me lay it down beside the hearth, which +they regarded as a sacred place. Even if an enemy reached the hearth of +his foe, he would, thenceforth, be quite safe in his house. Doto then +picked up the child, warmed and caressed it, sent for milk for its +entertainment, and was full of pleasure in her new pet. + +She was a dear good girl, Doto, in spite of her heathen training. {74} + +Strangely enough, as I thought at the time, she burst out weeping when I +took my leave of her, and seemed almost as if she had some secret to +impart to me. This, at least, showed an interest in me, and I walked to +my home with high presumptuous thoughts. + +As I passed a certain group of rocks, in a lonely uncultivated district, +while the grey of evening was falling, I heard a low whistle. The place +had a bad reputation, being thought to be haunted. Perhaps I had +unconsciously imbibed some of the superstitions of the natives, for I +started in alarm. + +Then I heard an unmistakably British voice cry, in a suppressed tone, +"Hi!" + +The underwood rustled, and I beheld, to my astonishment, the form, the +crawling and abject form, of William Bludger! + +Since the day of his landing we had never once met, William having been +sent off to a distant part of the island. + +"Hi!" he said again, and when I exclaimed, naturally, "Hullo!" he put his +finger on his lips, and beckoned to me to join him. This I did, and +found that he was lurking in a cavern under the group of grey weather- +worn stones. + +When I entered the cave, Bludger fell a-trembling so violently that he +could not speak. He seemed in the utmost alarm, his face quite ashen +with terror. + +"What is the matter, William Bludger?" I asked; "have you had a Call, or +why do you thrust yourself on me?" + +"Have _you_ sich a thing as a chaw about ye?" he asked in tremulous +accents. "I'm _that_ done; never a drop has passed my lips for three +days, strike me dead; and I'd give anything for a chaw o' tobacco. A sup +of drink you have _not_ got, Capt'n Hymn-book, axing your pardon for the +liberty?" + +"William," I said, "even in this benighted island, you set a pitiful +example. You have been drinking, sir; you are reaping what you have +sown; and only temperance, strict, undeviating total abstinence rather, +can restore your health." + +"So help me!" cried the wretched man, "except a drop of Pramneian {76} I +took, the morning I cut and run,--and that was three days ago,--nothing +stronger than castor-oil berries have crossed my lips. It ain't that, +sir; it ain't the drink. It's--it's the Thargeelyah. Next week, sir, +they are going to roast us--you and me--flog us first, and roast us +after. Oh Lord! Oh Lord!" + + + +VII. FLIGHT. + + +"Flog us first, and roast us afterwards." I repeated mechanically the +words of William Bludger. "Why, you must be mad; they are more likely to +fall down and worship us,--_me_ at any rate." + +"No, Capt'n," replied William; "that's your mistake. They say we're both +Catharmata; that's what they call us; and you're no better than me." + +"And what are Catharmata?" I inquired, remembering that this word, or +something like it, had been constantly used by the natives in my hearing. + +"Well, Capt'n, it means, first and foremost, just the off-scourings of +creation, the very dust and sweepings of the shop," answered Bludger, who +had somehow regained his confidence. To have a fellow-sufferer, and to +see the pallor which, doubtless, overspread my features, was a source of +comfort to this hardened man. At the same time I confess that, if +William Bludger alone had been destined to suffer, I could have +contemplated the decree with Christian resignation. + +"I speak the beggars' patter pretty well now," Bludger went on; "and I +see Catharmata means more than just mere dirt. It means two unlucky +devils." + +"William?" I exclaimed. + +"It means, saving your presence, two poor coves, as has no luck, like you +and me, and that can be got rid of once a year, at an entertainment they +call the Thargeelyah, I dunno why, a kind o' friendly lead. They choose +fellows as either behaves ill, or has no friends to make a fuss about +them, and they gives them three dozen, or more, and takes them down to +the beach, and burns them alive over a slow fire. And then they toss the +ashes out to sea, and think all the bad luck goes away with the tide. Oh, +I never was in such a hole as this!" + +Bludger's words made me shudder. I had never forgotten the hideous +sacrifice, doubtless the Thargeelyah, as they called it, that greeted me +when I was first cast ashore on the island. To think that I had only +been saved that I might figure as a victim of some of their heathen gods! + +Oh, now the thought came back to me with a bitter repentance, that if I +had only converted all the islanders, they would never have dreamed of +sacrificing me in honour of a mere idol! Why had I been so lukewarm, why +had I backslidden, why had I endeavoured to make myself agreeable by +joining in promiscuous dances, when I should have been thundering against +Pagan idolatry, holy water, idols, sacrifices and the whole abominable +system of life on the island? True, I might have goaded them into +slaying me; I might have suffered as a martyr; but, at the least, I would +have deserved the martyr's crown. And now I was to perish at the stake, +without even the precious consolation of being a real martyr, and was to +be flogged into the bargain. + +I gave a hollow groan as these reflections passed through my mind, and +this appeared to afford William Bludger some consolation. + +"You don't seem to like it yourself, Capt'n; what's your advice? We're +both in the same boat; leastways I wish we _were_ in a boat; anyhow we're +both in the same hole." + +There was no denying this, and it was high time to mature some plan of +escape. Already I must have been missed by my attendants, my gaolers +rather, who would have returned from their festival, and would be looking +for me everywhere. + +I bitterly turned over in my mind the facts of our situation; "ours," +for, as a just punishment of my remissness, I was in the same quandary as +a drunken, dissipated sailor before the mast. + +If William had but possessed a sweet and tuneful voice (often a gift +found in the most depraved natures), and if I had been able to borrow a +harmonium on wheels, I would not, even now, have despaired of converting +the whole island in the course of the week. As remarkable feats have +been performed, with equal alacrity, by precious Messrs. Moody and +Sankey, and I am informed that expeditious conversions are by no means +infrequent among politicians. But it was vain to think of this resource, +as William had no voice, and knew no hymns, while I had no means of +access to a perambulating harmonium. + +"I'll tell you what it is, sir," said Bludger; "I have a notion." + +"Name it, William," I replied, my heart and manner softened by community +in suffering and terror. + +"Well, if I were you, sir, I would not go home to-night at all; I'd stop +where you are. The beggars won't find you, let them hunt as they like; +they daren't come near this place, bless you, it's an 'Arnt;" by which he +meant that it was haunted. + +"Well," said I, "but how should we be any better off to-morrow morning?" + +"That's just it, sir," said Bludger. "We'll be up with the first stroke +of dawn, nip down to the harbour, get on board a boat, and be off before +any of them are stirring." + +"But, even if we manage to secure a boat," I said, "what about +provisions, and where are we to sail for?" + +"Oh, never mind that," said Bill; "we can't be worse off than we are, and +I'll slip out to-night, and lay in some prog in the town. Also some +grog, if I can lay my hands on it," he added, with an unholy smile. + +"No, William," I murmured; "no grog; our lives depend on our sobriety." + +"Always a-preaching, the old tub-thumper," I heard William say to +himself; but he made no further reference to the subject. + +It was now quite dark, and we lay whispering, in the damp hollow under +the great stone. Our plan was to crawl away at the first blush of dawn, +when men generally sleep most soundly; that William should enter one of +the unguarded houses (for these people never stole, and did not know the +meaning of the word "thief"), that he should help himself to provisions, +and that meanwhile I should have a boat ready to start in the harbour. + +This larcenous but inevitable programme we carried out, after waiting +through dreadful hours of cold and shivering anxiety. Every cry of a +night bird from the marsh or the wood sent my heart into my mouth. I +felt inconceivably mean and remorseful, my vanity having received a +dreadful shock from the discovery that, far from being a god, I was to be +a kind of burnt-offering. + +At last the east grew faintly grey, and we started, not keeping together, +but Bludger marching cautiously in my rear, at a considerable distance. +We only met one person, a dissipated young man, who, I greatly fear, had +been paying his court to a shepherdess in the hills. When he shouted a +challenge, I replied, Erastes eimi, which means, I am sorry to say, "I am +a lover," and implied that I, also, had been engaged in low intrigue. +"Farewell, with good fortune," he replied, and went on his way, singing +some catch about Amaryllis, who, I presume, was the object of his +unhallowed attentions. + +We slipped into the silent town, unwalled and unguarded as it was, for as +one of their own poets had said, "We dwell by the wash of the waves, far +off from toilsome men, and with us are no folk conversant." They were a +race that knew war only by a vague tradition, that they had dwelt, at +some former age, in an island, perhaps New Zealand, where they were +subject to constant annoyance from Giants,--a likely story. Thence they +had migrated to their present home, where only one white man had ever +been cast away--one Odysseus, so their traditions declared--before our +arrival. Him, however, they had treated hospitably, very unlike their +contemplated behaviour to Bludger and me. + +I am obliged to make this historical digression that the reader may +understand how it happened, under Providence, that we were not detected +in passing through the town, and how Bludger successfully accomplished +what, I fear, was by no means his first burglary. + +We parted at the chief's house, Bill to secure provisions, and I to +unmoor a boat, and bring her round to a lonely bay on the coast, where my +companion was to join me. + +I accomplished my task without the slightest difficulty, selected a light +craft,--they did not use canoes, but rowed boats like coracles,--and was +lying at anchor, moored with a heavy stone, in the bay. + +The dawn was now breaking in the most beautiful colours--gold, purple, +crimson, and green--across the sea. All nature was still, save for the +first pipe of awakening birds. + +There was a delicate fragrance in the air, which was at once soft and +keen, and, as I watched the red sunlight on the high cliffs, and on the +smooth trunks of the palm trees, I felt, strange to say, a kind of +reluctance to leave the island. + +The people, apart from their cruel and abominable religion, were the +gentlest and most peaceful I have ever known. They were beautiful to +look upon, so finely made and shapely that I have never seen their like. +Their language was exquisitely sweet and melodious, and though, except +hymns, I do not care for poetry, yet I must admit that some of their +compositions in verse were extremely pleasing, though they were ignorant +of the art of rhyme. All about them was beautifully made, and they were +ignorant of poverty. I never saw a beggar on the island; and Christians, +unhappily, do not share their goods with each other, and with the poor, +so freely as did these benighted heathens. Often have I laboured to make +them understand what our Pauper Question means, but they could not +comprehend me. + +"How can a man lack home, and food, and fire?" they would say; "do people +not love each other in your country?" + +I explained that we love each other _as Christians_, but this did not +seem to enlighten their benighted minds. On the other hand, it is true +that they settle their population question by strangling or exposing the +majority of their infant daughters. + +Rocked on the smooth green swell of the sea, beneath the white rocks, I +was brooding over these and many other matters, when I heard sudden and +violent movements in the deep vegetation on the hillside. The laurel +groves were stirred, and Bill Bludger, with a basket in his hand, bounded +down the slope, and swam for dear life to the boat. + +"They're after me," he cried; and at that moment an arrow quivered in the +side of the boat. + +I helped William on board as well as I might, under a shower of arrows +from the hill-top, most of which, owing to the distance, were ill +directed and fell short, or went wide. + +Into the boat, at last, I got him, and thrusting an oar in his direction, +I said, "Pull for your life," and began rowing. To my horror, the boat +made no way, but kept spinning round. A glance in the bow showed me what +was the matter: _William Bludger was hopelessly intoxicated_! He had got +at the jars of wine in the chief's cellar,--thalamos, they call it,--and +had not taken the precaution of mixing the liquor with water, as the +natives invariably do when they drink. The excitement of running had +sent the alcoholic fumes direct to his brain, and now he lay, a useless +and embarrassing cargo, in the bows. Meanwhile, the shouts of the +natives rang nearer and louder, and I knew that boats would soon be +launched for our capture. I thought of throwing Bludger overboard, and +sculling, but determined not to stain what might be my last moments with +an act of selfishness. I therefore pulled hard for the open sea, but to +no avail. On every side boats crowded round me, and I should probably +have been shot, or speared, but for the old priest, who, erect in the +bows of the largest vessel, kept yelling that we were to be taken alive. + +Alas! I well knew the secret of his cruel mercies. + +He meant to reserve us for the sacrifice. + + + +VIII. SAVED! + + +Why should I linger over the sufferings of the miserable week that +followed our capture? Hauled back to my former home, I was again made +the object of the mocking reverence of my captors. Ah, how often, in my +reckless youth, have my serious aunts warned me that I "would be a goat +at the last"! Too true, too true; now I was to be a scapegoat, to be +driven forth, as these ignorant and strangely perverted people believed, +with the sins of the community on my head, those sins which would, +according to their _miserable superstition_, be expiated by the death, +and consumed away by the burning, of myself and William Bludger! + +The week went by, as all weeks must, and at length came the solemn day +which they call Thargeelyah, the day more sacred than any other to their +idol, Apollon. Long before sunrise the natives were astir; indeed, I do +not think they went to bed at all, but spent the night in hideous orgies. +I know that, tossing sleepless through the weary hours, I heard the +voices of young men and women singing on the hillsides, and among the +myrtle groves which are holy to the most disreputable of their deities, a +female, named Aphrodighty. Harps were twanging too, and I heard the +refrain of one of the native songs, "To-night they love who never loved +before; to-night let him who loves love all the more." The words have +unconsciously arranged themselves, even in English, as poetry; those who +know Thomas Gowles best, best know how unlikely it is that he would +willingly dabble in the worldly art of verse-fashioning. Think of my +reflections with a painful, shameful, and, above all, _undeserved_ death +before me, while all the fragrant air was ringing with lascivious +merriment. My impression is that, as all the sins of the year were, in +their opinion, to be got rid of next day, and tossed into the sea with +the ashes of Bludger and myself, the natives had made up their minds--an +eligible opportunity now presenting itself--to be _as wicked as they knew +how_. Alas! though I have not dwelt on this painful aspect of their +character, they "knew how" only too well. + +The sun rose at last, and flooded the island, when I perceived that, from +every side, crowds of revellers were pressing together to the place where +I lay in fetters. They had a wild, dissipated air, flowers were wreathed +and twisted in their wet and dewy locks, which floated on the morning +wind. Many of the young men were merely dressed--if "dressed" it could +be called--in the skins of leopards, panthers, bears, goats, and deer, +tossed over their shoulders. In their hands they all held wet, dripping +branches of fragrant trees, many of them tipped with pine cones, and +wreathed with tendrils of the vine. Others carried switches, of which I +divined the use only too clearly, and the women were waving over their +heads tame serpents, which writhed and wriggled hideously. It was an +awful spectacle! + +I was dragged forth by these revellers; many of them were intoxicated, +and, in a moment--I blush even now to think of it--I was stripped naked! +Nothing was left to me but my hat and spectacles, which, for some +religious reason I presume, I was, fortunately, allowed to retain. Then +I was driven with blows, which hurt a great deal, into the market-place, +and up to the great altar, where William Bludger, also naked, was lying +more dead than alive. + +"William," I said solemnly, "what cheer?" He did not answer me. Even in +that supreme moment it was not difficult to discern that William had been +looking on the wine when it was red, and had not confined himself to mere +ocular observation. I tried to make him remember he was an Englishman, +that the honour of our country was in our hands, and that we should die +with the courage and dignity befitting our race. These were strange +consolations and exhortations for _me_ to offer in such an extremity, +but, now it had come to the last pass, it is curious what mere worldly +thoughts hurried through my mind. + +My words were wasted: the natives seized William and forced him to his +feet. Then, while a hymn was sung, they put chains of black and white +figs round our necks, and thrust into our hands pieces of cheese, figs, +and certain peculiar herbs. This formed part of what may well be called +the "Ritual" of this cruel race. May Ritualists heed my words, and turn +from the errors of their ways! + +Too well I knew all that now awaited us. All that I had seen and +shuddered at, on the day of my landing on the island, was now practised +on self and partner. We had to tread the long paved way to the distant +cove at the river's mouth; we had to endure the lashes from the switches +of wild fig. The priestess, carrying the wooden idol, walked hard by us, +and cried out, whenever the blows fell fewer or lighter, that the idol +was waxing too heavy for her to bear. Then they redoubled their +cruelties. + +It was a wonderfully lovely day. In the blue heaven there was not a +cloud. We had reached the river's mouth, and were fast approaching the +stakes that had already been fixed in the sands for our execution; nay, +the piles of green wood were already being heaped up by the young men. +There was, there could be, no hope, and, weary and wounded, I almost +welcomed the prospect of death, however cruel. + +Suddenly the blows ceased to shower on me, and I heard a cry from the +lips of the old priest, and, turning about, I saw that the eyes of all +the assembled multitude were fixed on a point on the horizon. + +Looking automatically in the direction towards which they were gazing, I +beheld--oh joy, oh wonder!--I beheld a long trail of cloud floating level +with the sea! It was the smoke of a steamer! + +"Too late, too late," I thought, and bitterly reflected that, had the +vessel appeared but an hour earlier, the attention of my cruel captors +might have been diverted to such a spectacle as they had never seen +before. + +But it was _not_ too late. + +Perched on a little hillock, and straining his gaze to the south, the old +priest was speaking loudly and excitedly. The crowd deserted us, and +gathered about him. + +I threw myself on the sand, weary, hopeless, parched with thirst, and +racked with pain. Bludger was already lying in a crumpled mass at my +feet. I think he had fainted. + +I retained consciousness, but that was all. The fierceness of the sun +beat upon me, the sky and sea and shore swam before me in a mist. +Presently I heard the voice of the priest, raised in the cadences which +he favoured when he was reading texts out of their sacred books, if books +they could be called. I looked at him with a faint curiosity, and +perceived that he held in his hands the wooden casket, adorned with +strangely carved bands of gold and ivory, which I had seen on the night +of my arrival on the island. + +From this he had selected the old grey scraps of metal, scratched, as I +was well aware, with what they conceived to be ancient prophecies. + +I was now sufficiently acquainted with the language to understand the +verses which he was chanting, and which I had already heard, without +comprehending them. They ran thus in English: + +"But when a man, having a chimney pot on his head, and four eyes, appears +in Scheria, and when a ship without sails also comes, sailing without +wind, and breathing smoke, then shall destruction fall on the island." + +He had not ended when it was plain, even to those ignorant people, that +the prophecy was about to be fulfilled. From the long, narrow, black +line of the steamer, which had approached us with astonishing speed, +"sailing without wind, and breathing smoke," there burst six flashes of +fire, followed by a peal like thunder, and six tall fountains, as the +natives fancied, of sea-water rose and fell in the bay, where the shells +had lighted. + +It was plain that the commander of the vessel, finding himself in unknown +seas, and hard by an unvisited country, was determined to strike terror +and command respect by this salute. + +The noise of the broadside had scarcely died away, when the natives fled, +disappeared like magic, leaving many of their garments behind them. + +They were making for their town, which was concealed from the view of the +rapidly nearing steamer. From her mast I could now see, flaunting the +slight breeze, the dear old Union Jack, and the banner of the Salvation +Navy! {95} + +My resolution was taken in a moment. Bludger had now recovered +consciousness, and was picking up heart. I thrust into his hands one of +the branches with which we had been flogged, fastened to it a cloak of +one of the natives, bade him keep waving it from a rocky promontory, and, +rushing down to the sea, I leaped in, and swam with all my strength +towards the vessel. Weak as I was, my new hopes gave me strength, and +presently, from the crest of a wave, I saw that the people of the steamer +were lowering a boat, and rowing towards me. + +In a few minutes they had reached me, my countrymen's hands were in mine. +They dragged me on board; they pulled back to their vessel; and I stood, +entirely undressed, on the deck of a British ship! + +So long had I lived among people heedless of modesty that I was rushing, +with open arms, towards the officer on the quarter-deck, who was dressed +as a bishop, when I heard a scream of horror. I turned round in time to +see the bishop's wife fleeing precipitately to the cabin, and driving her +children and governess in front of her. + +Then all the horror of the situation flooded my heart and brain, and I +fell fainting on the quarter-deck. + +When I recovered my consciousness, I found myself plainly but comfortably +dressed in the ordinary costume, except the hat, which lay beside me, of +a dean in the Church of England. My wounds had been carefully attended +to, William Bludger had been taken on board, and I was surrounded by the +kind faces of my benefactors, including the bishop's consort. My +apologies for my somewhat sudden and unceremonious intrusion were cut +short by the arrival of tea and a slight collation suitable for an +invalid. In an hour I was walking the quarter-deck with the bishop in +command of the William Wilberforce, armed steam yacht, of North Shields, +fitted out for the purposes of the Salvation Navy. From the worthy +prelate in command of the William Wilberforce, I learned much concerning +his own past career and the nature of his enterprise, as I directed the +navigation of the vessel through the shoals and reefs which lay about the +harbour of the island. + +The bishop (a purely brevet title) would refresh his memory, now and +then, from a penny biography of himself with which he was provided, and +the following, in brief, is a record of his life and adventures:-- + +Thomas Sloggins (that was his name), from his earliest infancy, had been +possessed with a passion for _doing good to others_, a passion, alas! but +too rarely reciprocated. I pass over many affecting details of his +adventures as a ministering child: how he endeavoured to win his father +from tobacco by breaking his favourite pipes; how he strove to wean his +elder brother from cruel field-sports, by stuffing the joints of his +fishing-rod with gravel; with many other touching incidents. + +Being almost entirely uneducated, young Sloggins, when he reached man's +estate, conceived that he would most benefit his fellow-creatures by +combining the professions of the pulpit and the press--by preaching on +Sundays and at odd times, while he acted as outdoor reporter to The Rowdy +Puritan on every lawful day. Being a man of great earnestness and +enterprise, he soon rose in the ranks of the Salvation Navy; and at one +time commanded an evangelical barge on the benighted canals of our +country. Finally, he made England almost too hot to hold him, by the +original forms of his benevolence, while, at the same time, he acquired +the utmost esteem and confidence of many wealthy philanthropists and +excellent, if impulsive, ladies. These good people provided him with +that well-equipped and armed steam yacht, the William Wilberforce, which +he manned with a crew of converted characters (they certainly looked as +if they must have needed a great deal of converting), and he had now for +months been cruising in the South Pacific. A local cyclone had driven +the William Wilberforce out of her reckoning, and hence the appearance of +that vessel in the very nick of time to achieve my rescue. + +When the bishop had finished his story, I briefly recapitulated to him my +own adventures, and we agreed that the conversion of the island must be +our earliest task. To begin with, we steered into the harbour, where a +vast multitude of the natives were assembled in arms, and awaited our +approach with a threatening demeanour. Our landing was opposed, but a +few well-directed volleys from a Gardiner gun (which did not jam) caused +the hostile force to disperse, and we landed in great state. Marching on +the chief's house, we were received with an abject submission that I had +scarcely expected. The people were absolutely cowed, more by the +fulfilment of the prophecy, I think, than even by the execution done by +our Gardiner machine gun. At the bishop's request, I delivered a +harangue in the native tongue, declaring that we only required the +British flag to be hoisted on the palace, and the immediate disendowment +of the heathen church as in those parts established. I was listened to +in uneasy silence; but my demand for lodgings in the palace was acceded +to; and, in a few hours, the bishop, with his wife and children, were +sumptuously housed under the roof of the chief. The ladies of the +chief's family showed great curiosity in watching and endeavouring to +converse with our friends. I was amused to see how soon the +light-hearted islanders appeared to forget their troubles and +apprehensions. Doto, in particular, became quite devoted to the +prelate's elder daughter (the youngest of the bishop's family was +suffering from measles), and would never be out of her company. Thus all +seemed to fare merrily; presents were brought to us--flowers, fruit, the +feathers of rare birds, and ornaments of native gold were literally +showered upon the ladies of the party. The chief promised to call a +meeting of his counsellors on the morrow, and all seemed going on well, +when, alas! measles broke out in the palace. The infant whom I had +presented to Doto--the infant whom I had found on the mountain side--was +the first sufferer. Then Doto caught the disease herself, then her +mother, then the chief. In vain we attempted to nurse and tend them; in +vain we expended the contents of the ship's medicine chest on the +invalids. The malady having, as it were, an entirely new field to work +upon, raged like the most awful pestilence. Through all ranks of the +people it spread like wild-fire; many died, none could be induced to take +the most ordinary precautions. The natives became, as it were, mad under +the torments of fever and the burning heat of the unaccustomed malady; +they rushed about, quite unclad, for the sake of the deceptive coolness, +and hundreds of them cast themselves into the sea and into the river. + +It was my sad lot to see my dear Doto die--the first of the sufferers in +the palace to succumb to the disease. Meanwhile, the bishop and myself +being entirely absorbed in attendance on the sick, the crew of the +William Wilberforce, I deeply regret to say, escaped from all restraint, +and forgot what was due to themselves and their profession. They +revelled with the most abandoned of the natives, and disease and drink +ravaged the once peaceful island. Every sign of government and order +vanished. The old priest built a huge pile of firewood, and laying +himself there with the images of the gods, set fire to the whole, and +perished with his own false religion. + +After this event, the island ceased to be a safe residence for ourselves. +Among the mountains, as I learned, where the pestilence had not yet +penetrated, the shepherds and the wilder tribes were gathering in arms. +One night we stole on board the William Wilberforce, leaving the city +desolate, filled with the smoke of funeral pyres, and the wailing of men +and women. There was a dreadful sultry stillness in the air, and all day +long wild beasts had been dashing madly into the sea, and the sky had +been obscured by flights of birds. On all the crests of the circle of +surrounding hills we saw, in the growing darkness, the beacons and camp +fires of the insurgents from the interior. Just before the dawn the +William Wilberforce was attacked by the whole mass of the natives in +boats and rafts. But we had not been unprepared for this movement, nor +were the resources of science unequal to the occasion. We had surrounded +the William Wilberforce with a belt, or cordon, of torpedoes, and as each +of the assaulting boats touched the boom, a terrible explosion shook the +water into fountains of foam, and the waves were strewn with scalded, +wounded, and mutilated men. Meanwhile, we bombarded the city and the +harbour, and the night passed amid the most awful sounds and sights--fire, +smoke, yells of anger and pain, cries of the native leaders encouraging +their men, and shouts from our own people, who had to repel the boarders, +when the boom was at last forced, with pikes and cutlasses. Just before +the dawn a strange thing happened. A great glowing coal, as it seemed, +fell with a hissing crash on the deck of the William Wilberforce, and +others dropped, with a strange sound and a dreadful odour of burning, in +the water all around us. Had the natives discovered some mode of +retaliating on our use of firearms? + +I looked in the direction of their burning city, and beheld, on the sharp +peak of the highest mountain (now visible in the grey morning light), an +object like a gigantic pine-tree of fire. The blazing trunk rose, slim +and straight, from the mountain crest, and, at a vast height, developed a +wilderness of burning branches. Fearful hollow sounds came from the +hill, its sides were seamed with racing cataracts of living lava, of +coursing and leaping flames, which rolled down with incredible swiftness +and speed towards the doomed city. Then the waters of the harbour were +smitten and shaken, and the William Wilberforce rocked and heaved as in +the most appalling storm, though all the winds were silent, while a +mighty wave swept far inland towards the streams of fire. There was no +room for doubt; a volcanic eruption was occurring, and a submarine +earthquake, as not uncommonly happens, had also taken place. Our only +hope was in immediate flight. Presently steam was got up, and we steamed +away into the light of the glowing east, leaving behind us only a burning +island, and a fire like an ugly dawn flaring in the western sky. + +When we returned in the evening, Boothland--as I may now indeed call it, +for Scheria has ceased to be--was one black smoking cinder. + +Hardly a tree or a recognizable rock remained to show that this had once +been a peaceful home of men. The oracle, or prophecy of the old priest, +had been horribly, though, of course, quite accidentally, fulfilled. + +* * * * * + +Little remains to be told. On my return home, I chanced to visit the +British Museum, and there, much to my surprise, observed an old piece of +stone, chipped with the characters, or letters, in use among the natives +of Scheria. + +"Why," said I, reading the words aloud, "these are the characters which +the natives employed on my island." + +"These?" said the worthy official who accompanied me. "Why, these are +the most archaic Greek letters which have yet been discovered: +inscriptions from beneath the lava beds of Santorin." + +"I can't help that," I said. "The Polynesians used them too; and you see +I can read them easily, though I don't know Greek." + +I then told him the whole story of my connection with the island, and of +the unfortunate results of the contact between these poor people and our +superior modern civilization. + +I have rarely seen a man more affected by any recital than was the head +of the classical department of the Museum by my artless narrative. When +I described the sacrifice I saw on landing in the island, he exclaimed, +"Great Heavens! the Attic Thargelia." He grew more and more excited as I +went on, and producing a Greek book, "Pausanias," he showed me that the +sacrifice of wild beasts was practised sixteen hundred years ago in +honour of Artemis Elaphria. The killing of old Elatreus for entering the +town hall reminded him of a custom in Achaea Pthiotis. When I had +finished my tale, he burst out into violent and libellous language. "You +have destroyed," he said, "with your miserable modern measles and +Gardiner guns, the last remaining city of the ancient Greeks. The winds +cast you on the shore of Phaeacia, the island sung by Homer; and, in your +brutal ignorance, you never knew it. You have ruined a happy, harmless, +and peaceful people, and deprived archaeology of an opportunity that can +never, never return!" + +I do not know about archaeology, but as for "harmless and peaceful +people," I leave it to my readers to say whether the islanders were +anything of the sort. + +I learn that the Government has just refused to give the Museum a grant +of five thousand pounds to be employed in what are called "Excavations in +Ancient Phaeacia," diggings, that is, in Boothland. + +With so many darkened people still ignorant of our enlightened +civilization, I think the grant would be a shameful waste of public +money. {106} + +* * * * * + +We publish the original text of the prophecy repeatedly alluded to by Mr. +Gowles. The learned say that no equivalent occurs for the line about his +"four eyes," and it is insinuated, in a literary journal of eminence, +that Mr. Gowles pilfered the notion from Good's glass eye, in a secular +romance, called King Solomon's Mines, which Mr. Gowles, we are sure, +never heard of in his life.--ED. + +THE PROPHECY. + + [The Prophecy in Greek - not reproduced] + + + + +IN THE WRONG PARADISE +AN OCCIDENTAL APOLOGUE. + + +In the drawing-room, or, as it is more correctly called, the "dormitory," +of my club, I had been reading a volume named "Sur l'Humanite Posthume," +by M. D'Assier, a French follower of Comte. The mixture of positivism +and ghost-stories highly diverted me. Moved by the sagacity and +pertinence of M. D'Assier's arguments for a limited and fortuitous +immortality, I fell into such an uncontrollable fit of laughter as +caused, I could see, first annoyance and then anxiety in those members of +my club whom my explosion of mirth had awakened. As I still chuckled and +screamed, it appeared to me that the noise I made gradually grew fainter +and more distant, seeming to resound in some vast empty space, even more +funereal and melancholy than the dormitory of my club, the "Tepidarium." +It has happened to most people to laugh themselves awake out of a dream, +and every one who has done so must remember the ghastly, hollow, and +maniacal sound of his own mirth. It rings horribly in a quiet room where +there has been, as the Veddahs of Ceylon say is the case in the world at +large, "nothing to laugh at." Dean Swift once came to himself, after a +dream, laughing thus hideously at the following conceit: "I told Apronia +to be very careful especially about the legs." Well, the explosions of +my laughter crackled in a yet more weird and lunatic fashion about my own +ears as I slowly became aware that I had died of an excessive sense of +the ludicrous, and that the space in which I was so inappropriately +giggling was, indeed, the fore-court of the House of Hades. As I grew +more absolutely convinced of this truth, and began dimly to discern a +strange world visible in a sallow light, like that of the London streets +when a black fog hangs just over the houses, my hysterical chuckling +gradually died away. Amusement at the poor follies of mortals was +succeeded by an awful and anxious curiosity as to the state of +immortality and the life after death. Already it was certain that "the +Manes are somewhat," and that annihilation is the dream of people +sceptical through lack of imagination. The scene around me now resolved +itself into a high grey upland country, bleak and wild, like the waste +pastoral places of Liddesdale. As I stood expectant, I observed a figure +coming towards me at some distance. The figure bore in its hand a gun, +and, as I am short-sighted, I at first conceived that he was the +gamekeeper. "This affair," I tried to say to myself, "is only a dream +after all; I shall wake and forget my nightmare." + +But still the man drew nearer, and I began to perceive my error. +Gamekeepers do not usually paint their faces red and green, neither do +they wear scalp-locks, a tuft of eagle's feathers, moccasins, and buffalo- +hide cloaks, embroidered with representations of war and the chase. This +was the accoutrement of the stranger who now approached me, and whose +copper-coloured complexion indicated that he was a member of the Red +Indian, or, as the late Mr. Morgan called it the "Ganowanian" race. The +stranger's attire was old and clouted; the barrel of his flint-lock +musket was rusted, and the stock was actually overgrown with small +funguses. It was a peculiarity of this man that everything he carried +was more or less broken and outworn. The barrel of his piece was riven, +his tomahawk was a mere shard of rusted steel, on many of his +accoutrements the vapour of fire had passed. He approached me with a +stately bearing, and, after saluting me in the fashion of his people, +gave me to know that he welcomed me to the land of spirits, and that he +was deputed to carry me to the paradise of the Ojibbeways. "But, sir," I +cried in painful confusion, "there is here some great mistake. I am no +Ojibbeway, but an Agnostic; the after-life of spirits is only (as one of +our great teachers says) 'an hypothesis based on contradictory +probabilities;' and I really must decline to accompany you to a place of +which the existence is uncertain, and which, if it does anywhere exist, +would be uncongenial in the extreme to a person of my habits." + +To this remonstrance my Ojibbeway Virgil answered, in effect, that in the +enormous passenger traffic between the earth and the next worlds mistakes +must and frequently do occur. Quisque suos patimur manes, as the Roman +says, is the rule, but there are many exceptions. Many a man finds +himself in the paradise of a religion not his own, and suffers from the +consequences. This was, in brief, the explanation of my guide, who could +only console me by observing that if I felt ill at ease in the Ojibbeway +paradise, I might, perhaps, be more fortunate in that of some other +creed. "As for your Agnostics," said he, "their main occupation in their +own next world is to read the poetry of George Eliot and the +philosophical works of Mr. J. S. Mill." On hearing this, I was much +consoled for having missed the entrance to my proper sphere, and I +prepared to follow my guide with cheerful alacrity, into the paradise of +the Ojibbeways. + +Our track lay, at first, along the "Path of Souls," and the still, grey +air was only disturbed by a faint rustling and twittering of spirits on +the march. We seemed to have journeyed but a short time, when a red +light shone on the left hand of the way. As we drew nearer, this light +appeared to proceed from a prodigious strawberry, a perfect mountain of a +strawberry. Its cool and shining sides seemed very attractive to a +thirsty Soul. A red man, dressed strangely in the feathers of a raven, +stood hard by, and loudly invited all passers-by to partake of this +refreshment. I was about to excavate a portion of the monstrous +strawberry (being partial to that fruit), when my guide held my hand and +whispered in a low voice that they who accepted the invitation of the man +that guarded the strawberry were lost. He added that, into whatever +paradise I might stray, I must beware of tasting any of the food of the +departed. All who yield to the temptation must inevitably remain where +they have put the food of the dead to their lips. "You," said my guide, +with a slight sneer, "seem rather particular about your future home, and +you must be especially careful to make no error." Thus admonished, I +followed my guide to the river which runs between our world and the +paradise of the Ojibbeways. A large stump of a tree lies half across the +stream, the other half must be crossed by the agility of the wayfarer. +Little children do but badly here, and "an Ojibbeway woman," said my +guide, "can never be consoled when her child dies before it is fairly +expert in jumping. Such young children they cannot expect to meet again +in paradise." I made no reply, but was reminded of some good and unhappy +women I had known on earth, who were inconsolable because their babes had +died before being sprinkled with water by a priest. These babes they, +like the Ojibbeway matrons, "could not expect to meet again in paradise." +To a grown-up spirit the jump across the mystic river presented no +difficulty, and I found myself instantly among the wigwams of the +Ojibbeway heaven. It was a remarkably large village, and as far as the +eye could see huts and tents were erected along the river. The sound of +magic songs and of drums filled all the air, and in the fields the +spirits were playing lacrosse. All the people of the village had +deserted their homes and were enjoying themselves at the game. Outside +one hut, however, a perplexed and forlorn phantom was sitting, and to my +surprise I saw that he was dressed in European clothes. As we drew +nearer I observed that he wore the black garb and white neck-tie of a +minister in some religious denomination, and on coming to still closer +quarters I recognized an old acquaintance, the Rev. Peter McSnadden. Now +Peter had been a "jined member" of that mysterious "U. P. Kirk" which, +according to the author of "Lothair," was founded by the Jesuits for the +greater confusion of Scotch theology. Peter, I knew, had been active as +a missionary among the Red Men in Canada; but I had neither heard of his +death nor could conceive how his shade had found its way into a paradise +so inappropriate as that in which I encountered him. Though never very +fond of Peter, my heart warmed to him, as the heart sometimes does to an +acquaintance unexpectedly met in a strange land. Coming cautiously +behind him, I slapped Peter on the shoulder, whereon he leaped up with a +wild unearthly yell, his countenance displaying lively tokens of terror. +When he recognized me he first murmured, "I thought it was these +murdering Apaches again;" and it was long before I could soothe him, or +get him to explain his fears, and the circumstance of his appearance in +so strange a final home. "Sir," said Peter, "it's just some terrible +mistake. For twenty years was I preaching to these poor painted bodies +anent heaven and hell, and trying to win them from their fearsome notions +about a place where they would play at the ba' on the Sabbath, and the +like shameful heathen diversions. Many a time did I round it to them +about a far, far other place-- + + "Where congregations ne'er break up, + And sermons never end!" + +And now, lo and behold, here I am in their heathenish Gehenna, where the +Sabbath-day is just clean neglected; indeed, I have lost count myself, +and do not know one day from the other. Oh, man, it's just rideec'lous. +A body--I mean a soul--does not know where to turn." Here Peter, whose +accent I cannot attempt to reproduce (he was a Paisley man), burst into +honest tears. Though I could not but agree with Peter that his situation +was "just rideec'lous," I consoled him as well as I might, saying that a +man should make the best of every position, and that "where there was +life there was hope," a sentiment of which I instantly perceived the +futility in this particular instance. "Ye do not know the worst," the +Rev. Mr. McSnadden went on. "I am here to make them sport, like Samson +among the Philistines. Their paradise would be no paradise to them if +they had not a pale-face, as they say, to scalp and tomahawk. And I am +that pale-face. Before you can say 'scalping-knife' these awful Apaches +may be on me, taking my scalp and other leeberties with my person. It +grows again, my scalp does, immediately; but that's only that they may +take it some other day." The full horror of Mr. McSnadden's situation +now dawned upon me, but at the same time I could not but perceive that, +without the presence of some pale-face to torture--Peter or +another--paradise would, indeed, be no paradise to a Red Indian. In the +same way Tertullian (or some other early Father) has remarked that the +pleasures of the blessed will be much enhanced by what they observe of +the torments of the wicked. As I was reflecting thus two wild yells +burst upon my hearing. One came from a band of Apache spirits who had +stolen into the Ojibbeway village; the other scream was uttered by my +unfortunate friend. I confess that I fled with what speed I might, nor +did I pause till the groans of the miserable Peter faded in the distance. +He was, indeed, a man in the wrong paradise. + +In my anxiety to avoid sharing the fate of Peter at the hands of the +Apaches, I had run out of sight and sound of the Ojibbeway village. When +I paused I found myself alone, on a wide sandy tract, at the extremity of +which was an endless thicket of dark poplar-trees, a grove dear to +Persephone. Here and there in the dank sand, half buried by the fallen +generations of yellow poplar-leaves, were pits dug, a cubit every way, +and there were many ruinous altars of ancient stones. On some were +engraved figures of a divine pair, a king and queen seated on a throne, +while men and women approached them with cakes in their hands or with the +sacrifice of a cock. While I was admiring these strange sights, I beheld +as it were a moving light among the deeps of the poplar thicket, and +presently saw coming towards me a young man clad in white raiment and of +a radiant aspect. In his hand he bore a golden wand whereon were wings +of gold. The first down of manhood was on his lip; he was in that season +of life when youth is most gracious. Then I knew him to be no other than +Hermes of the golden rod, the guide of the souls of men outworn. He took +my hand with a word of welcome, and led me through the gloom of the +poplar trees. + +Like Thomas the Rhymer, on his way to Fairyland-- + + "We saw neither sun nor moon, + But we heard the roaring of the sea." + +This eternal "swowing of a flode" was the sound made by the circling +stream of Oceanus, as he turns on his bed, washing the base of the White +Rock, and the sands of the region of dreams. So we fleeted onwards till +we came to marvellous lofty gates of black adamant, that rose before us +like the steep side of a hill. On the left side of the gates we beheld a +fountain flowing from beneath the roots of a white cypress-tree, and to +this fountain my guide forbade me to draw near. "There is another +yonder," he said, pointing to the right hand, "a stream of still water +that issues from the Lake of Memory, and there are guards who keep that +stream from the lips of the profane. Go to them and speak thus: 'I am +the child of earth and of the starry sky, yet heavenly is my lineage, and +this yourselves know right well. But I am perishing with thirst, so give +me speedily of that still water which floweth forth of the mere of +Memory.' And they will give thee to drink of that spring divine, and +then shalt thou dwell with the heroes and the blessed." So I did as he +said, and went before the guardians of the water. Now they were veiled, +and their voices, when they answered me, seemed to come from far away. +"Thou comest to the pure, from the pure," they said, "and thou art a +suppliant of holy Persephone. Happy and most blessed art thou, advance +to the reward of the crown desirable, and be no longer mortal, but +divine." Then a darkness fell upon me, and lifted again like mist on the +hills, and we found ourselves in the most beautiful place that can be +conceived, a meadow of that short grass which grows on some shores beside +the sea. There were large spaces of fine and solid turf, but, where the +little streams flowed from the delicate-tinted distant mountains, there +were narrow valleys full of all the flowers of a southern spring. Here +grew narcissus and hyacinths, violets and creeping thyme, and crocus and +the crimson rose, as they blossomed on the day when the milk-white bull +carried off Europa. Beyond the level land beside the sea, between these +coasts and the far-off hills, was a steep lonely rock, on which were set +the shining temples of the Grecian faith. The blue seas that begirt the +coasts were narrow, and ran like rivers between many islands not less +fair than the country to which we were come, while other isles, each with +its crest of clear-cut hills, lay westward, far away, and receding into +the place of the sunset. Then I recognized the Fortunate Islands spoken +of by Pindar, and the paradise of the Greeks. "Round these the ocean +breezes blow and golden flowers are glowing, some from the land on trees +of splendour, and some the water feedeth, with wreaths whereof they +entwine their hands." {124} And, as Pindar says again, "for them shineth +below the strength of the sun, while in our world it is night, and the +space of crimson-flowered meadows before their city is full of the shade +of frankincense-trees and of fruits of gold. And some in horses and in +bodily feats, and some in dice, and some in harp-playing have delight, +and among them thriveth all fair flowering bliss; and fragrance ever +streameth through the lovely land as they mingle incense of every kind +upon the altars of the gods." In this beautiful country I took great +delight, now watching the young men leaping and running (and they were +marvellously good over a short distance of ground), now sitting in a +chariot whereto were harnessed steeds swifter than the wind, like those +that, Homer says, "the gods gave, glorious gifts, to Peleus." And the +people, young and old, received me kindly, welcoming me in their Greek +speech, which was like the sound of music. And because I had ever been a +lover of them and of their tongue, my ears were opened to understand +them, though they spoke not Greek as we read it. Now when I had beheld +many of the marvels of the Fortunate Islands, and had sat at meat with +those kind hosts (though I only made semblance to eat of what they placed +before me), and had seen the face of Rhadamanthus of the golden hair, who +is the lord of that country, my friends told me that there was come among +them one of my own nation who seemed most sad and sorrowful, and they +could make him no mirth. Then they carried me to a house in a grove, and +all around it a fair garden, and a well in the midst. + +Now stooping over the well, that he might have sight of his own face, was +a most wretched man. He was pale and very meagre; he had black rings +under his eyes, and his hair was long, limp, and greasy, falling over his +shoulders. He was clad somewhat after the manner of the old Greeks, but +his raiment was wofully ill-made and ill-girt upon him, nor did he ever +seem at his ease. As soon as I beheld his sallow face I knew him for one +I had seen and mocked at in the world of the living. He was a certain +Figgins, and he had been honestly apprenticed to a photographer; but, +being a weak and vain young fellow, he had picked up modern notions about +art, the nude, plasticity, and the like, in the photographer's workroom, +whereby he became a weariness to the photographer and to them that sat +unto him. Being dismissed from his honest employment, this chitterling +must needs become a model to some painters that were near as ignorant as +himself. They talked to him about the Greeks, about the antique, about +Paganism, about the Renaissance, till they made him as much the child of +folly as themselves. And they painted him as Antinous, as Eros, as +Sleep, and I know not what, but whatever name they called him he was +always the same lank-haired, dowdy, effeminate, pasty-faced +photographer's young man. Then he must needs take to writing poems all +about Greece, and the free ways of the old Greeks, and Lais, and Phryne, +and therein he made "Aeolus" rhyme to "control us." For of Greek this +fellow knew not a word, and any Greek that met him had called him a +[Greek text], and bidden him begone to the crows for a cursed fellow, and +one that made false quantities in every Greek name he uttered. But his +little poems were much liked by young men of his own sort, and by some of +the young women. Now death had come to Figgins, and here he was in the +Fortunate Islands, the very paradise of those Greeks about whom he had +always been prating while he was alive. And yet he was not happy. A +little lyre lay beside him in the grass, and now and again he twanged on +it dolorously, and he tried to weave himself garlands from the flowers +that grew around him; but he knew not the art, and ever and anon he felt +for his button-hole, wherein to stick a lily or the like. But he had no +button-hole. Then he would look at himself in the well, and yawn and +wish himself back in his friends' studios in London. I almost pitied the +wretch, and, going up to him, I asked him how he did. He said he had +never been more wretched. "Why," I asked, "was your mouth not always +full of the 'Greek spirit,' and did you not mock the Christians and their +religion? And, as to their heaven, did you not say that it was a tedious +place, full of pious old ladies and Philistines? And are you not got to +the paradise of the Greeks? What, then, ails you with your lot?" "Sir," +said he, "to be plain with you, I do not understand a word these fellows +about me say, and I feel as I did the first time I went to Paris, before +I knew enough French to read the Master's poems. {128} Again, every one +here is mirthful and gay, and there is no man with a divinely passionate +potentiality of pain. When I first came here they were always asking me +to run with them or jump against them, and one fellow insisted I should +box with him, and hurt me very much. My potentiality of pain is +considerable. Or they would have me drive with them in these dangerous +open chariots,--me, that never rode in a hansom cab without feeling +nervous. And after dinner they sing songs of which I do not catch the +meaning of one syllable, and the music is like nothing I ever heard in my +life. And they are all abominably active and healthy. And such of their +poets as I admired--in Bohn's cribs, of course--the poets of the +Anthology, are not here at all, and the poets who are here are tremendous +proud toffs" (here Figgins relapsed into his natural style as it was +before he became a Neopagan poet), "and won't say a word to a cove. And +I'm sick of the Greeks, and the Fortunate Islands are a blooming fraud, +and oh, for paradise, give me Pentonville." With these words, perhaps +the only unaffected expression of genuine sentiment poor Figgins had ever +uttered, he relapsed into a gloomy silence. I advised him to cultivate +the society of the authors whose selected works are in the Greek +Delectus, and to try to make friends with Xenophon, whose Greek is about +as easy as that of any ancient. But I fear that Figgins, like the Rev. +Peter McSnadden, is really suffering a kind of punishment in the disguise +of a reward, and all through having accidentally found his way into what +he foolishly thought would be the right paradise for him. + +Now I might have stayed long in the Fortunate Islands, yet, beautiful as +they were, I ever felt like Odysseus in the island of fair Circe. The +country was lovely and the land desirable, but the Christian souls were +not there without whom heaven itself were no paradise to me. And it +chanced that as we sat at the feast a maiden came to me with a +pomegranate on a plate of silver, and said, "Sir, thou hast now been here +for the course of a whole moon, yet hast neither eaten nor drunk of what +is set before thee. Now it is commanded that thou must taste if it were +but a seed of this pomegranate, or depart from among us." Then, making +such excuses as I might, I was constrained to refuse to eat, for no soul +can leave a paradise wherein it has tasted food. And as I spoke the +walls of the fair hall wherein we sat, which were painted with the +effigies of them that fell at Thermopylae and in Arcadion, wavered and +grew dim, and darkness came upon me. + +The first of my senses which returned to me was that of smell, and I +seemed almost drowned in the spicy perfumes of Araby. Then my eyes +became aware of a green soft fluttering, as of the leaves of a great +forest, but quickly I perceived that the fluttering was caused by the +green scarfs of a countless multitude of women. They were "fine women" +in the popular sense of the term, and were of the school of beauty +admired by the Faithful of Islam, and known to Mr. Bailey, in "Martin +Chuzzlewit," as "crumby." These fond attendant nymphs carried me into +gardens twain, in each two gushing springs, in each fruit, and palms, and +pomegranates. There were the blessed reclining, precisely as the Prophet +has declared, "on beds the linings whereof are brocade, and the fruit of +the two gardens within reach to cull." There also were the "maids of +modest glances," previously indifferent to the wooing "of man or ginn." +"Bright and large-eyed maids kept in their tents, reclining on green +cushions and beautiful carpets. About the golden couches went eternal +youths with goblets and ewers, and a cup of flowing wine. No headache +shall they feel therefrom," says the compassionate Prophet, "nor shall +their wits be dimmed." And all that land is misty and fragrant with the +perfume of the softest Latakia, and the gardens are musical with the +bubbling of countless narghiles; and I must say that to the Christian +soul which enters that paradise the whole place has, certainly, a rather +curious air, as of a highly transcendental Cremorne. There could be no +doubt, however, that the Faithful were enjoying themselves +amazingly--"right lucky fellows," as we read in the new translation of +the Koran. Yet even here all was not peace and pleasantness, for I heard +my name called by a small voice, in a tone of patient subdued +querulousness. Looking hastily round, I with some difficulty recognized, +in a green turban and silk gown to match, my old college tutor and +professor of Arabic. Poor old Jones had been the best and the most shy +of university men. As there was never any undergraduate in his time (it +is different now) who wished to learn Arabic, his place had been a +sinecure, and he had chiefly devoted his leisure to "drawing" pupils who +were too late for college chapel. The sight of a lady of his +acquaintance in the streets had at all times been alarming enough to +drive him into a shop or up a lane, and he had not survived the creation +of the first batch of married fellows. How he had got into this +thoroughly wrong paradise was a mystery which he made no attempt to +explain. "A nice place this, eh?" he said to me. "Nice gardens; remind +me of Magdalene a good deal. It seems, however, to be decidedly rather +gay just now; don't you think so? Commemoration week, perhaps. A great +many young ladies up, certainly; a good deal of cup drunk in the gardens +too. I always did prefer to go down in Commemoration week, myself; never +was a dancing man. There is a great deal of dancing here, but the young +ladies dance alone, rather like what is called the ballet, I believe, at +the opera. I must say the young persons are a little forward; a little +embarrassing it is to be alone here, especially as I have forgotten a +good deal of my Arabic. Don't you think, my dear fellow, you and I could +manage to give them the slip? Run away from them, eh?" He uttered a +timid little chuckle, and at that moment an innumerable host of houris +began a ballet d'action illustrative of a series of events in the career +of the Prophet. It was obvious that my poor uncomplaining old friend was +really very miserable. The "thornless loto trees" were all thorny to +him, and the "tal'h trees with piles of fruit, the outspread shade, and +water outpoured" could not comfort him in his really very natural +shyness. A happy thought occurred to me. In early and credulous youth I +had studied the works of Cornelius Agrippa and Petrus de Abano. Their +lessons, which had not hitherto been of much practical service, recurred +to my mind. Stooping down, I drew a circle round myself and my old +friend in the fragrant white blossoms which were strewn so thick that +they quite hid the grass. This circle I fortified by the usual signs +employed, as Benvenuto Cellini tells us, in the conjuration of evil +spirits. I then proceeded to utter one of the common forms of exorcism. +Instantly the myriad houris assumed the forms of irritated demons; the +smoke from the uncounted narghiles burned thick and black; the cries of +the frustrated ginns, who were no better than they should be, rang wildly +in our ears; the palm-trees shook beneath a mighty wind; the distant +summits of the minarets rocked and wavered, and, with a tremendous crash, +the paradise of the Faithful disappeared. + +* * * * * + +As I rang the bell, and requested the club-waiter to carry away the +smoking fragments of the moderator-lamp which I had accidentally knocked +over in awaking from my nightmare, I reflected on the vanity of men and +the unsubstantial character of the future homes that their fancy has +fashioned. The ideal heavens of modern poets and novelists, and of +ancient priests, come no nearer than the drugged dreams of the angekok +and the biraark of Greenland and Queensland to that rest and peace +whereof it has not entered into the mind of man to conceive. To the +wrong man each of our pictured heavens would be a hell, and even to the +appropriate devotee each would become a tedious purgatory. + + + + +A CHEAP NIGGER. + + +I. + + +"Have you seen the Clayville Dime?" + +Moore chucked me a very shabby little sheet of printed matter. It +fluttered feebly in the warm air, and finally dropped on my recumbent +frame. I was lolling in a hammock in the shade of the verandah. + +I did not feel much inclined for study, but I picked up the Clayville +Dime and lazily glanced at that periodical, while Moore relapsed into the +pages of Ixtlilxochitl. He was a literary character for a planter, had +been educated at Oxford (where I made his acquaintance), and had +inherited from his father, with a large collection of Indian and Mexican +curiosities, a taste for the ancient history of the New World. + +Sometimes I glanced at the newspaper; sometimes I looked out at the +pleasant Southern garden, where the fountain flashed and fell among +weeping willows, and laurels, orange-trees, and myrtles. + +"Hullo!" I cried suddenly, disturbing Moore's Aztec researches, "here is +a queer affair in the usually quiet town of Clayville. Listen to this;" +and I read aloud the following "par," as I believe paragraphs are styled +in newspaper offices:-- + + "'Instinct and Accident.--As Colonel Randolph was driving through our + town yesterday and was passing Captain Jones's sample-room, where the + colonel lately shot Moses Widlake in the street, the horses took alarm + and started violently downhill. The colonel kept his seat till + rounding the corner by the Clayville Bank, when his wheels came into + collision with that edifice, and our gallant townsman was violently + shot out. He is now lying in a very precarious condition. This may + relieve Tom Widlake of the duty of shooting the colonel in revenge for + his father. It is commonly believed that Colonel Randolph's horses + were maddened by the smell of the blood which has dried up where old + Widlake was shot. Much sympathy is felt for the colonel. Neither of + the horses was injured.'" + +"Clayville appears to be a lively kind of place," I said. "Do you often +have shootings down here?" + +"We do," said Moore, rather gravely; "it is one of our institutions with +which I could dispense." + +"And do you 'carry iron,' as the Greeks used to say, or 'go heeled,' as +your citizens express it?" + +"No, I don't; neither pistol nor knife. If any one shoots me, he shoots +an unarmed man. The local bullies know it, and they have some scruple +about shooting in that case. Besides, they know I am an awkward customer +at close quarters." + +Moore relapsed into his Mexican historian, and I into the newspaper. + +"Here is a chance of seeing one of your institutions at last," I said. + +I had found an advertisement concerning a lot of negroes to be sold that +very day by public auction in Clayville. All this, of course, was +"before the war." + +"Well, I suppose you ought to see it," said Moore, rather reluctantly. He +was gradually emancipating his own servants, as I knew, and was even +suspected of being a director of "the Underground Railroad" to Canada. + +"Peter," he cried, "will you be good enough to saddle three horses and +bring them round?" + +Peter, a "darkey boy" who had been hanging about in the garden, grinned +and went off. He was a queer fellow, Peter, a plantation humourist, well +taught in all the then unpublished lore of "Uncle Remus." Peter had a +way of his own, too, with animals, and often aided Moore in collecting +objects of natural history. + +"Did you get me those hornets, Peter?" said Moore, when the black +returned with the horses. + +"Got 'em safe, massa, in a little box," replied Peter, who then mounted +and followed at a respectful distance as our squire. + +Without many more words we rode into the forest which lay between +Clayville and Moore's plantation. Through the pine barrens ran the road, +and on each side of the way was luxuriance of flowering creepers. The +sweet faint scent of the white jessamine and the homely fragrance of +honeysuckle filled the air, and the wild white roses were in perfect +blossom. Here and there an aloe reminded me that we were not at home, +and dwarf palms and bayonet palmettoes, with the small pointed leaf of +the "live oak," combined to make the scenery look foreign and unfamiliar. +There was a soft haze in the air, and the sun's beams only painted, as it +were, the capitals of the tall pillar-like pines, while the road was +canopied and shaded by the skeins of grey moss that hung thickly on all +the boughs. + +The trees grew thinner as the road approached the town. Dusty were the +ways, and sultry the air, when we rode into Clayville and were making for +"the noisy middle market-place." Clayville was but a small border town, +though it could then boast the presence of a squadron of cavalry, sent +there to watch the "border ruffians." The square was neither large nor +crowded, but the spectacle was strange and interesting to me. Men who +had horses or carts to dispose of were driving or riding about, noisily +proclaiming the excellence of their wares. But buyers were more +concerned, like myself, with the slave-market. In the open air, in the +middle of the place, a long table was set. The crowd gathered round +this, and presented types of various sorts of citizens. The common "mean +white" was spitting and staring--a man fallen so low that he had no +nigger to wallop, and was thus even more abject, because he had no +natural place and functions in local society, than the slaves themselves. +The local drunkard was uttering sagacities to which no mortal attended. +Two or three speculators were bidding on commission, and there were a few +planters, some of them mounted, and a mixed multitude of tradesmen, +loafers, bar-keepers, newspaper reporters, and idlers in general. At +either end of the long table sat an auctioneer, who behaved with the +traditional facetiousness of the profession. As the "lots" came on for +sale they mounted the platform, generally in family parties. A party +would fetch from one thousand to fifteen hundred dollars, according to +its numbers and "condition." The spectacle was painful and monstrous. +Most of the "lots" bore the examination of their points with a kind of +placid dignity, and only showed some little interest when the biddings +grew keen and flattered their pride. + +The sale was almost over, and we were just about to leave, when a howl of +derision from the mob made us look round. What _I_ saw was the +apparition of an extremely aged and debilitated black man standing on the +table. What Moore saw to interest him I could not guess, but he grew +pale and uttered an oath of surprise under his breath, though he rarely +swore. Then he turned his horse's head again towards the auctioneer. +That merry tradesman was extolling the merits of nearly his last lot. "A +very remarkable specimen, gentlemen! Admirers of the antique cannot +dispense with this curious nigger--very old and quite imperfect. Like so +many of the treasures of Greek art which have reached us, he has had the +misfortune to lose his nose and several of his fingers. How much offered +for this exceptional lot--unmarried and without encumbrances of any kind? +He is dumb too, and may be trusted with any secret." + +"Take him off!" howled some one in the crowd. + +"Order his funeral!" + +"Chuck him into the next lot." + +"What, gentlemen, _no_ bids for this very eligible nigger? With a few +more rags he would make a most adequate scarecrow." + +While this disgusting banter was going on I observed a planter ride up to +one of the brokers and whisper for some time in his ear. The planter was +a bad but unmistakable likeness of my friend Moore, worked over, so to +speak, with a loaded brush and heavily glazed with old Bourbon whisky. +After giving his orders to the agent he retired to the outskirts of the +crowd, and began flicking his long dusty boots with a serviceable cowhide +whip. + +"Well, gentlemen, we must really adopt the friendly suggestion of Judge +Lee and chuck this nigger into the next lot." + +So the auctioneer was saying, when the broker to whom I have referred +cried out, "Ten dollars." + +"_This_ is more like business," cried the auctioneer. "Ten dollars +offered! What amateur says more than ten dollars for this lot? His +extreme age and historical reminiscences alone, if he could communicate +them, would make him invaluable to the student." + +To my intense amazement Moore shouted from horseback, "Twenty dollars." + +"What, _you_ want a cheap nigger to get your hand in, do you, you blank- +blanked abolitionist?" cried a man who stood near. He was a big, dirty- +looking bully, at least half drunk, and attending (not unnecessarily) to +his toilet with the point of a long, heavy knife. + +Before the words were out of his mouth Moore had leaped from his horse +and delivered such a right-handed blow as that wherewith the wandering +beggar-man smote Irus of old in the courtyard of Odysseus, Laertes' son. +"On his neck, beneath the ear, he smote him, and crushed in the bones; +and the red blood gushed up through his mouth, and he gnashed his teeth +together as he kicked the ground." Moore stooped, picked up the bowie- +knife, and sent it glittering high through the air. + +"Take him away," he said, and two rough fellows, laughing, carried the +bully to the edge of the fountain that played in the corner of the +square. He was still lying crumpled up there when we rode out of +Clayville. + +The bidding, of course, had stopped, owing to the unaffected interest +which the public took in this more dramatic interlude. The broker, it is +true, had bid twenty-five dollars, and was wrangling with the auctioneer. + +"You have my bid, Mr. Brinton, sir, and there is no other offer. Knock +down the lot to me." + +"You wait your time, Mr. Isaacs," said the auctioneer. "No man can do +two things at once and do them well. When Squire Moore has settled with +Dick Bligh he will desert the paths of military adventure for the calmer +and more lucrative track of commercial enterprise." + +The auctioneer's command of long words was considerable, and was +obviously of use to him in his daily avocations. + +When he had rounded his period, Moore was in the saddle again, and nodded +silently to the auctioneer. + +"Squire Moore bids thirty dollars. Thirty dollars for this once despised +but now appreciated fellow-creature," rattled on the auctioneer. + +The agent nodded again. + +"Forty dollars bid," said the auctioneer. + +"Fifty," cried Moore. + +The broker nodded. + +"Sixty." + +The agent nodded again. + +The bidding ran rapidly up to three hundred and fifty dollars. + +The crowd were growing excited, and had been joined by every child in the +town, by every draggled and sunburnt woman, and the drinking-bar had +disgorged every loafer who felt sober enough to stay the distance to the +centre of the square. + +My own first feelings of curiosity had subsided. I knew how strong and +burning was Moore's hatred of oppression, and felt convinced that he +merely wished at any sacrifice of money to secure for this old negro some +peaceful days and a quiet deathbed. + +The crowd doubtless took the same obvious view of the case as I did, and +was now eagerly urging on the two competitors. + +"Never say die, Isaacs." + +"Stick to it, Squire; the nigger's well worth the dollars." + +So they howled, and now the biddings were mounting towards one thousand +dollars, when the sulky planter rode up to the neighbourhood of the +table--much to the inconvenience of the "gallery"--and whispered to his +agent. The conference lasted some minutes, and at the end of it the +agent capped Moore's last offer, one thousand dollars, with a bid of one +thousand two hundred. + +"Fifteen hundred," said Moore, amidst applause. + +"Look here, Mr. Knock-'em-down," cried Mr. Isaacs: "it's hot and thirsty +work sitting, nodding here; I likes my ease on a warm day; so just you +reckon that I see the Squire, and go a hundred dollars more as long as I +hold up my pencil." + +He stuck a long gnawed pencil erect between his finger and thumb, and +stared impertinently at Moore. The Squire nodded, and the bidding went +on in this silent fashion till the bids had actually run up to three +thousand four hundred dollars. All this while the poor negro, whose +limbs no longer supported him, crouched in a heap on the table, turning +his haggard eye alternately on Moore and on the erect and motionless +pencil of the broker. The crowd had become silent with excitement. +Unable to stand the heat and agitation, Moore's unfriendly brother had +crossed the square in search of a "short drink." Moore nodded once more. + +"Three thousand six hundred dollars bid," cried the auctioneer, and +looked at Isaacs. + +With a wild howl Isaacs dashed his pencil in the air, tossed up his +hands, and thrust them deep down between his coat collar and his body, +uttering all the while yells of pain. + +"Don't you bid, Mr. Isaacs?" asked the auctioneer, without receiving any +answer except Semitic appeals to holy Abraham, blended with Aryan +profanity. + +"Come," said Moore very severely, "his pencil is down, and he has +withdrawn his bid. There is no other bidder; knock the lot down to me." + +"No more offers?" said the auctioneer slowly, looking all round the +square. + +There were certainly no offers from Mr. Isaacs, who now was bounding like +the gad-stung Io to the furthest end of the place. + +"This fine buck-negro, warranted absolutely unsound of wind and limb, +going, going, a shameful sacrifice, for a poor three thousand six hundred +dollars. Going, going--gone!" + +The hammer fell with a sharp, decisive sound. + +A fearful volley of oaths rattled after the noise, like thunder rolling +away in the distance. + +Moore's brother had returned from achieving a "short drink" just in time +to see his coveted lot knocked down to his rival. + +We left the spot, with the negro in the care of Peter, as quickly as +might be. + +"I wonder," said Moore, as we reached the inn and ordered a trap to carry +our valuable bargain home in--"I wonder what on earth made Isaacs run off +like a maniac." + +"Massa," whispered Peter, "yesterday I jes' caught yer Brer Hornet +a-loafin' around in the wood. 'Come wi' me,' says I, 'and bottled him in +this yer pasteboard box,'" showing one which had held Turkish tobacco. +"When I saw that Hebrew Jew wouldn't stir his pencil, I jes' crept up +softly and dropped Brer Hornet down his neck. Then he jes' rose and +went. Spec's he and Brer Hornet had business of their own." + +"Peter," said Moore, "you are a good boy, but you will come to a bad +end." + + + +II. + + +As we rode slowly homeward, behind the trap which conveyed the +dear-bought slave, Moore was extremely moody and disinclined for +conversation. + +"Is your purchase not rather an expensive one?" I ventured to ask, to +which Moore replied shortly-- + +"No; think he is perhaps the cheapest nigger that was ever bought." + +To put any more questions would have been impertinent, and I possessed my +curiosity in silence till we reached the plantation. + +Here Moore's conduct became decidedly eccentric. He had the black man +conveyed at once into a cool, dark, strong room with a heavy iron door, +where the new acquisition was locked up in company with a sufficient +meal. Moore and I dined hastily, and then he summoned all his negroes +together into the court of the house. "Look here, boys," he cried: "all +these trees"--and he pointed to several clumps "must come down +immediately, and all the shrubs on the lawn and in the garden. Fall to +at once, those of you that have axes, and let the rest take hoes and +knives and make a clean sweep of the shrubs." The idea of wholesale +destruction seemed not disagreeable to the slaves, who went at their work +with eagerness, though it made my heart ache to see the fine old oaks +beginning to fall and to watch the green garden becoming a desert. Moore +first busied himself with directing the women, who, under his orders, +piled up mattresses and bags of cotton against the parapets of the +verandahs. The house stood on the summit of a gradually sloping height, +and before the moon began to set (for we worked without intermission +through the evening and far into the night) there was nothing but a bare +slope of grass all round the place, while smoke and flame went up from +the piles of fallen timber. The plantation, in fact, was ready to stand +a short siege. + +Moore now produced a number of rifles, which he put, with ammunition, +into the hands of some of the more stalwart negroes. These he sent to +their cabins, which lay at a distance of about a furlong and a half on +various sides of the house. The men had orders to fire on any advancing +enemy, and then to fall back at once on the main building, which was now +barricaded and fortified. One lad was told to lurk in a thicket below +the slope of the hill and invisible from the house. + +"If Wild Bill's men come on, and you give them the slip, cry thrice like +the 'Bob White,'" said Moore; "if they take you, cry once. If you get +off, run straight to Clayville, and give this note to the officer +commanding the cavalry." + +The hour was now about one in the morning; by three the dawn would begin. +In spite of his fatigues, Moore had no idea of snatching an hour's rest. +He called up Peter (who had been sleeping, coiled up like a black cat, in +the smoking-room), and bade him take a bath and hot water into the room +where Gumbo, the newly purchased black, had all this time been left to +his own reflections. "Soap him and lather him well, Peter," said Moore; +"wash him white, if you can, and let me know when he's fit to come near." + +Peter withdrew with his stereotyped grin to make his preparations. + +Presently, through the open door of the smoking-room, we heard the sounds +of energetic splashings, mingled with the inarticulate groans of the +miserable Gumbo. Moore could not sit still, but kept pacing the room, +smoking fiercely. Presently Peter came to the door-- + +"Nigger's clean now, massa." + +"Bring me a razor, then," said Moore, "and leave me alone with him." + +* * * * * + +When Moore had retired, with the razor, into the chamber where his +purchase lay, I had time to reflect on the singularity of the situation. +In every room loaded rifles were ready; all the windows were cunningly +barricaded, and had sufficient loopholes. The peaceful planter's house +had become a castle; a dreadful quiet had succeeded to the hubbub of +preparation, and my host, yesterday so pleasant, was now locked up alone +with a dumb negro and a razor! I had long ago given up the hypothesis +that Gumbo had been purchased out of pure philanthropy. The +disappointment of baffled cruelty in Moore's brother would not alone +account for the necessity of such defensive preparations as had just been +made. Clearly Gumbo was not a mere fancy article, but a negro of real +value, whose person it was desirable to obtain possession of at any risk +or cost. The ghastly idea occurred to me (suggested, I fancy, by Moore's +demand for a razor) that Gumbo, at some period of his career, must have +swallowed a priceless diamond. This gem must still be concealed about +his person, and Moore must have determined by foul means, as no fair +means were available, to become its owner. When this fancy struck me I +began to feel that it was my duty to interfere. I could not sit by +within call (had poor Gumbo been capable of calling) and allow my friend +to commit such a deed of cruelty. As I thus parleyed with myself, the +heavy iron door of the store-room opened, and Moore came out, with the +razor (bloodless, thank Heaven!) in his hand. Anxiety had given place to +a more joyous excitement. + +"Well?" I said interrogatively. + +"Well, all's well. That man has, as I felt sure, the Secret of the +Pyramid." + +I now became quite certain that Moore, in spite of all his apparent +method, had gone out of his mind. It seemed best to humour him, +especially as so many loaded rifles were lying about. + + "He has seen the myst'ry hid + Under Egypt's pyramid," + +I quoted; "but, my dear fellow, as the negro is dumb, I don't see how you +are to get the secret out of him." + +"I did not say he _knew_ it," answered Moore crossly; "I said he _had_ +it. As to Egypt, I don't know what you are talking about--" + +At this moment we heard the crack of rifles, and in the instant of +silence which followed came the note of the "Bob White." + +Once it shrilled, and we listened eagerly; then the notes came twice +rapidly, and a sound of voices rose up from the negro outposts, who had +been driven in and were making fast the one door of the house that had +been left open. From the negroes we learned that our assailants (Bill +Hicock's band of border ruffians, "specially engaged for this occasion") +had picketed their horses behind the dip of the hill and were advancing +on foot. Moore hurried to the roof to reconnoitre. The dawn was +stealing on, and the smoke from the still smouldering trees, which we had +felled and burned, rose through the twilight air. + +"Moore, you hound," cried a voice through the smoke of the furthest pile, +"we have come for your new nigger. Will you give him up or will you +fight?" + +Moore's only reply was a bullet fired in the direction whence the voice +was heard. His shot was answered by a perfect volley from men who could +just be discerned creeping through the grass about four hundred yards +out. The bullets rattled harmlessly against wooden walls and iron +shutters, or came with a thud against the mattress fortifications of the +verandah. The firing was all directed against the front of the house. + +"I see their game," said Moore. "The front attack is only a feint. When +they think we are all busy here, another detachment will try to rush the +place from the back and to set fire to the building. We'll 'give them +their kail through the reek.'" + +Moore's dispositions were quickly made. He left me with some ten of the +blacks to keep up as heavy a fire as possible from the roof against the +advancing skirmishers. He posted himself, with six fellows on whom he +could depend, in a room of one of the wings which commanded the back +entrance. As many men, with plenty of ready-loaded rifles, were told off +to a room in the opposite wing. Both parties were thus in a position to +rake the entrance with a cross fire. Moore gave orders that not a +trigger should be pulled till the still invisible assailants had arrived +on his side, between the two projecting wings. "Then fire into them, and +let every one choose his man." + +On the roof our business was simple enough. We lay behind bags of +cotton, firing as rapidly and making as much show of force as possible, +while women kept loading for us. Our position was extremely strong, as +we were quite invisible to men crouching or running hurriedly far below. +Our practice was not particularly good; still three or four of the +skirmishers had ceased to advance, and this naturally discouraged the +others, who were aware, of course, that their movement was only a feint. +The siege had now lasted about half an hour, and I had begun to fancy +that Moore's theory of the attack was a mistake, and that he had credited +the enemy with more generalship than they possessed, when a perfect storm +of fire broke out beneath us, from the rooms where Moore and his company +were posted. Dangerous as it was to cease for a moment from watching the +enemy, I stole across the roof, and, looking down between two of the +cotton bags which filled the open spaces of the balustrades, I saw the +narrow ground between the two wings simply strewn with dead or wounded +men. The cross fire still poured from the windows, though here and there +a marksman tried to pick off the fugitives. Rapidly did I cross the roof +to my post. To my horror the skirmishers had advanced, as if at the +signal of the firing, and were now running up at full speed and close to +the walls of the house. At that moment the door opened, and Moore, +heading a number of negroes, picked off the leading ruffian and rushed +out into the open. The other assailants fired hurriedly and without aim, +then--daunted by the attack so suddenly carried into their midst, and by +the appearance of one or two of their own beaten comrades--the enemy +turned and fairly bolted. We did not pursue. Far away down the road we +heard the clatter of hoofs, and thin and clear came the thrice-repeated +cry of the "Bob White." + +"Dick's coming back with the soldiers," said Moore; "and now I think we +may look after the wounded." + +* * * * * + +I did not see much of Moore that day. The fact is that I slept a good +deal, and Moore was mysteriously engaged with Gumbo. Night came, and +very much needed quiet and sleep came with it. Then we passed an +indolent day, and I presumed that adventures were over, and that on the +subject of "the Secret of the Pyramid" Moore had recovered his sanity. I +was just taking my bedroom candle when Moore said, "Don't go to bed yet. +You will come with me, won't you, and see out the adventure of the Cheap +Nigger?" + +"You don't mean to say the story is to be continued?" I asked. + +"Continued? Why the fun is only beginning," Moore answered. "The night +is cloudy, and will just suit us. Come down to the branch." + +The "branch," as Moore called it, was a strong stream that separated, as +I knew, his lands from his brother's. We walked down slowly, and reached +the broad boat which was dragged over by a chain when any one wanted to +cross. At the "scow," as the ferry-boat was called, Peter joined us; he +ferried us deftly over the deep and rapid water, and then led on, as +rapidly as if it had been daylight, along a path through the pines. + +"How often I came here when I was a boy," said Moore; "but now I might +lose myself in the wood, for this is my brother's land, and I have +forgotten the way." + +As I knew that Mr. Bob Moore was confined to his room by an accident, +through which an ounce of lead had been lodged in a portion of his frame, +I had no fear of being arrested for trespass. Presently the negro +stopped in front of a cliff. + +"Here is the 'Sachem's Cave,'" said Moore. "You'll help us to explore +the cave, won't you?" + +I did not think the occasion an opportune one for exploring caves, but to +have withdrawn would have demanded a "moral courage," as people commonly +say when they mean cowardice, which I did not possess. We stepped within +a narrow crevice of the great cliff. Moore lit a lantern and went in +advance; the negro followed with a flaring torch. + +Suddenly an idea occurred to me, which I felt bound to communicate to +Moore. "My dear fellow," I said in a whisper, "is this quite +sportsmanlike? You know you are after some treasure, real or imaginary, +and, I put it to you as a candid friend, is not this just a little bit +like poaching? Your brother's land, you know." + +"What I am looking for is in my own land," said Moore. "The river is the +march. Come on." + +We went on, now advancing among fairy halls, glistering with stalactites +or paved with silver sand, and finally pushing our way through a +concealed crevice down dank and narrow passages in the rock. The +darkness increased; the pavement plashed beneath our feet, and the drip, +drip of water was incessant. "We are under the river-bed," said Moore, +"in a kind of natural Thames Tunnel." We made what speed we might +through this combination of the Valley of the Shadow with the Slough of +Despond, and soon were on firmer ground again beneath Moore's own +territory. Probably no other white men had ever crawled through the +hidden passage and gained the further penetralia of the cave, which now +again began to narrow. Finally we reached four tall pillars, of about +ten feet in height, closely surrounded by the walls of rock. As we +approached these pillars, that were dimly discerned by the torchlight, +our feet made a faint metallic jingling sound among heaps of ashes which +strewed the floor. Moore and I went up to the pillars and tried them +with our knives. They were of wood, all soaked and green with the +eternal damp. "Peter," said Moore, "go in with the lantern and try if +you can find anything there." + +Peter had none of the superstitions of his race, or he would never have +been our companion. "All right, massa; me look for Brer Spook." + +So saying, Peter walked into a kind of roofed over-room, open only at the +front, and examined the floor with his lantern, stamping occasionally to +detect any hollowness in the ground. + +"Nothing here, massa, but this dead fellow's leg-bone and little bits of +broken jugs," and the dauntless Peter came out with his ghastly trophy. + +Moore seemed not to lose heart. + +"Perhaps," he said, "there is something on the roof. Peter, give me a +back." + +Peter stooped down beside one of the wooden pillars and firmly grasped +his own legs above the knee. Moore climbed on the improvised ladder, and +was just able to seize the edge of the roof, as it seemed to be, with his +hands. + +"Now steady, Peter," he exclaimed, and with a spring he drew himself up +till his head was above the level of the roof. Then he uttered a cry, +and, leaping from Peter's back retreated to the level where we stood in +some confusion. + +"Good God!" he said, "what a sight!" + +"What on earth is the matter?" I asked. + +"Look for yourself, if you choose," said Moore, who was somewhat shaken, +and at the same time irritated and ashamed. + +Grasping the lantern, I managed to get on to Peter's shoulders, and by a +considerable gymnastic effort to raise my head to the level of the ledge, +and at the same time to cast the light up and within. + +The spectacle was sufficiently awful. + +I was looking along a platform, on which ten skeletons were disposed at +full length, with the skulls still covered with long hair, and the +fleshless limbs glimmering white and stretching back into the darkness. + +On the right hand, and crouching between a skeleton and the wall of the +chamber (what we had taken for a roof was the floor of a room raised on +pillars), I saw the form of a man. He was dressed in gay colours, and, +as he sat with his legs drawn up, his arms rested on his knees. + +On the first beholding of a dreadful thing, our instinct forces us to +rush against it, as if to bring the horror to the test of touch. This +instinct wakened in me. For a moment I felt dazed, and then I continued +to stare involuntarily at the watcher of the dead. He had not stirred. +My eyes became accustomed to the dim and flickering light which the +lantern cast in that dark place. + +"Hold on, Peter," I cried, and leaped down to the floor of the cave. + +"It's all right, Moore," I said. "Don't you remember the picture in old +Lafitau's 'Moeurs des Sauvages Americains'? We are in a burying-place of +the Cherouines, and the seated man is only the kywash, 'which is an image +of woode keeping the deade.'" + +"Ass that I am!" cried Moore. "I knew the cave led us from the Sachem's +Cave to the Sachem's Mound, and I forgot for a moment how the fellows +disposed of their dead. We must search the platform. Peter, make a +ladder again." + +Moore mounted nimbly enough this time. I followed him. + +The kywash had no more terrors for us, and we penetrated beyond the +fleshless dead into the further extremity of the sepulchre. Here we +lifted and removed vast piles of deerskin bags, and of mats, filled as +they were with "the dreadful dust that once was man." As we reached the +bottom of the first pile something glittered yellow and bright beneath +the lantern. + +Moore stooped and tried to lift what looked like an enormous plate. He +was unable to raise the object, still weighed down as it was with the +ghastly remnants of the dead. With feverish haste we cleared away the +debris, and at last lifted and brought to light a huge and massive disk +of gold, divided into rays which spread from the centre, each division +being adorned with strange figures in relief--figures of animals, plants, +and what looked like rude hieroglyphs. + +This was only the firstfruits of the treasure. + +A silver disk, still larger, and decorated in the same manner, was next +uncovered, and last, in a hollow dug in the flooring of the sepulchre, we +came on a great number of objects in gold and silver, which somewhat +reminded us of Indian idols. These were thickly crusted with precious +stones, and were accompanied by many of the sacred emeralds and opals of +old American religion. There were also some extraordinary manuscripts, +if the term may be applied to picture writing on prepared deerskins that +were now decaying. We paid little attention to cloaks of the famous +feather-work, now a lost art, of which one or two examples are found in +European museums. The gold, and silver, and precious stones, as may be +imagined, overcame for the moment any ethnological curiosity. + +* * * * * + +Dawn was growing into day before we reached the mouth of the cave again, +and after a series of journeys brought all our spoil to the light of the +upper air. It was quickly enough bestowed in bags and baskets. Then, +aided by three of Moore's stoutest hands, whom we found waiting for us in +the pine wood, we carried the whole treasure back, and lodged it in the +strong room which had been the retreat of Gumbo. + + + +III. + + +The conclusion of my story shall be very short. What was the connection +between Gumbo and the spoils of the Sachem's Mound, and how did the +treasures of the Aztec Temple of the Sun come to be concealed in the +burial place of the Red Man? All this Moore explained to me the day +after we secured the treasures. + +"My father," said Moore, "was, as you know, a great antiquarian, and a +great collector of Mexican and native relics. He had given almost as +much time as Brasseur de Bourbourg to Mexican hieroglyphics, and +naturally had made nothing out of them. His chief desire was to discover +the Secret of the Pyramid--not the pyramids of Egypt, as you fancied, but +the Pyramid of the Sun, Tonatiuh, at Teohuacan. To the problem connected +with this mysterious structure, infinitely older than the empire of +Montezuma, which Cortes destroyed, he fancied he had a clue in this +scroll." + +Moore handed me a prepared sheet of birch bark, like those which the red +men use for their rude picture writings. It was very old, but the +painted characters were still brilliant, and even a tyro could see that +they were not Indian, but of the ancient Mexican description. In the +upper left-hand corner was painted a pyramidal structure, above which the +sun beamed. Eight men, over whose heads the moon was drawn, were issuing +from the pyramid; the two foremost bore in their hands effigies of the +sun and moon; each of the others seemed to carry smaller objects with a +certain religious awe. Then came a singular chart, which one might +conjecture represented the wanderings of these men, bearing the sacred +things of their gods. In the lowest corner of the scroll they were being +received by human beings dressed unlike themselves, with head coverings +of feathers and carrying bows in their hands. + +"This scroll," Moore went on, "my father bought from one of the last of +the red men who lingered on here, a prey to debt and whisky. My father +always associated the drawings with the treasures of Teohuacan, which, +according to him, must have been withdrawn from the pyramid, and conveyed +secretly to the north, the direction from which the old Toltec pyramid +builders originally came. In the north they would find no civilized +people like themselves, he said, but only the Indians. Probably, +however, the Indians would receive with respect the bearers of mysterious +images and rites, and my father concluded that the sacred treasures of +the Sun might still be concealed among some wandering tribe of red men. +He had come to this conclusion for some time, when I and my brother +returned from school, hastily summoned back, to find him extremely ill. +He had suffered from a paralytic stroke, and he scarcely recognized us. +But we made out, partly from his broken and wandering words, partly from +old Tom (Peter's father, now dead), that my father's illness had followed +on a violent fit of passion. He had picked up, it seems, from some +Indians a scroll which he considered of the utmost value, and which he +placed in a shelf of the library. Now, old Gumbo was a house-servant at +that time, and, dumb as he was, and stupid as he was, my father had +treated him with peculiar kindness. Unluckily Gumbo yielded to the +favourite illusion of all servants, white and black, male and female, +that anything they find in the library may be used to light a fire with. +One chilly day Gumbo lighted the fire with the newly purchased Indian +birch scroll. My father, when he heard of this performance, lost all +self-command. In his ordinary temper the most humane of men, he simply +raged at Gumbo. He would teach him, he said, to destroy his papers. And +it appeared, from what we could piece together (for old Tom was very +reticent and my father very incoherent), that he actually branded or +tattooed a copy of what Gumbo had burnt on the nigger's body!" + +"But," I interrupted, "your father knew all the scroll had to tell him, +else he could not have copied it on Gumbo. So why was he in such a +rage?" + +"You," said Moore, with some indignation, "are not a collector, and you +can't understand a collector's feelings. My father knew the contents of +the scroll, but what of that? The scroll was the first edition, the real +original, and Gumbo had destroyed it. Job would have lost his temper if +Job had been a collector. Let me go on. My brother and I both +conjectured that the scroll had some connection with the famous riches of +the Sun and the secret of the Pyramid of Teohuacan. Probably, we +thought, it had contained a chart (now transferred to Gumbo's frame) of +the hiding-place of the treasure. However, in the confusion caused by my +father's illness, death, and burial, Gumbo escaped, and, being an +unusually stupid nigger, he escaped due south-west. Here he seems to +have fallen into the hands of some slave-holding Indians, who used him +even worse than any white owners would have done, and left him the mere +fragment you saw. He filtered back here through the exchange of +commerce, 'the higgling of the market,' and as soon as I recognized him +at the sale I made up my mind to purchase him. So did my brother; but, +thanks to Peter and his hornets, I became Gumbo's owner. On examining +him, after he was well washed on the night of the attack, I found this +chart, as you may call it, branded on Gumbo's back." Here Moore made a +rapid tracing on a sheet of paper. "I concluded that the letters S M +(introduced by my father, of course, as the Indian scroll must have been +'before letters') referred to the Sachem's Mound, which is in my land; +that the Sun above referred to the treasures of the Sun, that S C stood +for the Sachem's Cave, and that the cave led, under the river, within the +mound. We might have opened the mound by digging on our own land, but it +would have been a long job, and must have attracted curiosity and brought +us into trouble. So, you see, the chart Gumbo destroyed was imprinted by +my father on his black back, and though he _knew_ nothing of the secret +he distinctly _had_ it." + +"Yes," said I, "but why did you ask for a razor when you were left alone +with Gumbo?" + +"Why," said Moore, "I knew Gumbo was marked somewhere and somehow, but +the place and manner I didn't know. And my father might have remembered +the dodge of Histiaeus in Herodotus: he might have shaved Gumbo's head, +tattooed the chart on that, and then allowed the natural covering to hide +the secret 'on the place where the wool ought to grow.'" + + + + +THE ROMANCE OF THE FIRST RADICAL. + + +A PREHISTORIC APOLOGUE. + + + "Titius. Le premier qui supprime un abus, comme on dit, est toujours + victime du service qu'il rend. + + Un Homme du Peuple. C'est de sa faute! Pourquoi se mele t'il de ce + qui ne le regarde pas."--Le Pretre de Nemi. + +The Devil, according to Dr. Johnson and other authorities, was the first +Whig. History tells us less about the first Radical--the first man who +rebelled against the despotism of unintelligible customs, who asserted +the rights of the individual against the claims of the tribal conscience, +and who was eager to see society organized, off-hand, on what he thought +a rational method. In the absence of history, we must fall back on that +branch of hypothetics which is known as prehistoric science. We must +reconstruct the Romance of the First Radical from the hints supplied by +geology, and by the study of Radicals at large, and of contemporary +savages among whom no Radical reformer has yet appeared. In the +following little apologue no trait of manners is invented. + +The characters of our romance lived shortly after the close of the last +glacial epoch in Europe, when the ice had partly withdrawn from the face +of the world, and when land and sea had almost assumed their modern +proportions. At this period Europe was inhabited by scattered bands of +human creatures, who roamed about its surface much as the black fellows +used to roam over the Australian continent. The various groups derived +their names from various animals and other natural objects, such as the +sun, the cabbage, serpents, sardines, crabs, leopards, bears, and hyaenas. +It is important for our purpose to remember that all the children took +their family name from the mother's side. If she were of the Hyaena +clan, the children were Hyaenas. If the mother were tattooed with the +badge of the Serpent, the children were Serpents, and so on. No two +persons of the same family name and crest might marry, on pain of death. +The man of the Bear family who dwelt by the Mediterranean might not ally +himself with a woman of the Bear clan whose home was on the shores of the +Baltic, and who was in no way related to him by consanguinity. These +details are dry, but absolutely necessary to the comprehension of the +First Radical's stormy and melancholy career. We must also remember +that, among the tribes, there was no fixed or monarchical government. The +little democratic groups were much influenced by the medicine-men or +wizards, who combined the functions of the modern clergy and of the +medical profession. The old men, too, had some power; the braves, or +warriors, constituted a turbulent oligarchy; the noisy outcries of the +old women corresponded to the utterances of an intelligent daily press. +But the real ruler was a body of strange and despotic customs, the nature +of which will become apparent as we follow the fortunes of the First +Radical. + + + +THE YOUTH OF WHY-WHY. + + +Why-Why, as our hero was commonly called in the tribe, was born, long +before Romulus built his wall, in a cave which may still be observed in +the neighbourhood of Mentone. On the warm shores of the Mediterranean, +protected from winds by a wall of rock, the group of which Why-Why was +the offspring had attained conditions of comparative comfort. The +remains of their dinners, many feet deep, still constitute the flooring +of the cave, and the tourist, as he pokes the soil with the point of his +umbrella, turns up bits of bone, shreds of chipped flint, and other +interesting relics. In the big cave lived several little families, all +named by the names of their mothers. These ladies had been knocked on +the head and dragged home, according to the marriage customs of the +period, from places as distant as the modern Marseilles and Genoa. Why- +Why, with his little brothers and sisters, were named Serpents, were +taught to believe that the serpent was the first ancestor of their race, +and that they must never injure any creeping thing. When they were still +very young, the figure of the serpent was tattooed over their legs and +breasts, so that every member of primitive society who met them had the +advantage of knowing their crest and highly respectable family name. + +The birth of Why-Why was a season of discomfort and privation. The hill +tribe which lived on the summit of the hill now known as the Tete du +Chien had long been aware that an addition to the population of the cave +was expected. They had therefore prepared, according to the invariable +etiquette of these early times, to come down on the cave people, maltreat +the ladies, steal all the property they could lay hands on, and break +whatever proved too heavy to carry. Good manners, of course, forbade the +cave people to resist this visit, but etiquette permitted (and in New +Caledonia still permits) the group to bury and hide its portable +possessions. Canoes had been brought into the little creek beneath the +cave, to convey the women and children into a safe retreat, and the men +were just beginning to hide the spears, bone daggers, flint fish-hooks, +mats, shell razors, nets, and so forth, when Why-Why gave an early proof +of his precocity by entering the world some time before his arrival was +expected. + +Instantly all was confusion. The infant, his mother and the other non- +combatants of the tribe, were bundled into canoes and paddled, through a +tempestuous sea, to the site of the modern Bordighiera. The men who were +not with the canoes fled into the depths of the Gorge Saint Louis, which +now severs France from Italy. The hill tribe came down at the double, +and in a twinkling had "made hay" (to borrow a modern agricultural +expression) of all the personal property of the cave dwellers. They tore +the nets (the use of which they did not understand), they broke the shell +razors, they pouched the opulent store of flint arrowheads and bone +daggers, and they tortured to death the pigs, which the cave people had +just begun to try to domesticate. After performing these rites, which +were perfectly legal--indeed, it would have been gross rudeness to +neglect them--the hill people withdrew to their wind-swept home on the +Tete du Chien. + +Philosophers who believe in the force of early impressions will be +tempted to maintain that Why-Why's invincible hatred of established +institutions may be traced to these hours of discomfort in which his life +began. + +The very earliest years of Why-Why, unlike those of Mr. John Stuart Mill, +whom in many respects he resembled, were not distinguished by proofs of +extraordinary intelligence. He rather promptly, however, showed signs of +a sceptical character. Like other sharp children, Why-Why was always +asking metaphysical conundrums. Who made men? Who made the sun? Why +has the cave-bear such a hoarse voice? Why don't lobsters grow on +trees?--he would incessantly demand. In answer to these and similar +questions, the mother of Why-Why would tell him stories out of the simple +mythology of the tribe. There was quite a store of traditional replies +to inquisitive children, replies sanctioned by antiquity and by the +authority of the medicine-men, and in this lore Why-Why's mother was +deeply versed. + +Thus, for example, Why-Why would ask his mother who made men. She would +reply that long ago Pund-jel, the first man, made two images of human +beings in clay, and stuck on curly bark for hair. He then danced a +corroboree round them, and sang a song. They rose up, and appeared as +full-grown men. To this statement, hallowed by immemorial belief, Why- +Why only answered by asking who made Pund-jel. His mother said that Pund- +jel came out of a plot of reeds and rushes. Why-Why was silent, but +thought in his heart that the whole theory was "bosh-bosh," to use the +early reduplicative language of these remote times. Nor could he conceal +his doubts about the Deluge and the frog who once drowned all the world. +Here is the story of the frog:--"Once, long ago, there was a big frog. He +drank himself full of water. He could not get rid of the water. Once he +saw a sand-eel dancing on his tail by the sea-shore. It made him laugh +so that he burst, and all the water ran out. There was a great flood, +and every one was drowned except two or three men and women, who got on +an island. Past came the pelican, in a canoe; he took off the men, but +wanting to marry the woman, kept her to the last. She wrapped up a log +in a 'possum rug to deceive the pelican, and swam to shore and escaped. +The pelican was very angry; he began to paint himself white, to show that +he was on the war trail, when past came another pelican, did not like his +looks, and killed him with his beak. That is why pelicans are partly +black and white, if you want to know, my little dear," said the mother of +Why-Why. + +Many stories like this were told in the cave, but they found no credit +with Why-Why. When he was but ten years old, his inquiring spirit showed +itself in the following remarkable manner. He had always been informed +that a serpent was the mother of his race, and that he must treat +serpents with the greatest reverence. To kill one was sacrilege. In +spite of this, he stole out unobserved and crushed a viper which had +stung his little brother. He noticed that no harm ensued, and this +encouraged him to commit a still more daring act. None but the old men +and the warriors were allowed to eat oysters. It was universally held +that if a woman or a child touched an oyster, the earth would open and +swallow the culprit. Not daunted by this prevalent belief, Why-Why one +day devoured no less than four dozen oysters, opening the shells with a +flint spear-head, which he had secreted in his waist-band. The earth did +not open and swallow him as he had swallowed the oysters, and from that +moment he became suspicious of all the ideas and customs imposed by the +old men and wizards. + +Two or three touching incidents in domestic life, which occurred when Why- +Why was about twelve years old, confirmed him in the dissidence of his +dissent, for the first Radical was the first Dissenter. The etiquette of +the age (which survives among the Yorubas and other tribes) made it +criminal for a woman to see her husband, or even to mention his name. +When, therefore, the probable father of Why-Why became weary of +supporting his family, he did not need to leave the cave and tramp +abroad. He merely ceased to bring in tree-frogs, grubs, roots, and the +other supplies which Why-Why's mother was accustomed to find concealed +under a large stone in the neighbourhood of the cave. + +The poor pious woman, who had always religiously abstained from seeing +her lord's face, and from knowing his name, was now reduced to +destitution. There was no one to grub up pig-nuts for her, nor to +extract insects of an edible sort from beneath the bark of trees. As she +could not identify her invisible husband, she was unable to denounce him +to the wizards, who would, for a consideration, have frightened him out +of his life or into the performance of his duty. Thus, even with the aid +of Why-Why, existence became too laborious for her strength, and she +gradually pined away. As she lay in a half-fainting and almost dying +state, Why-Why rushed out to find the most celebrated local medicine-man. +In half an hour the chief medicine-man appeared, dressed in the skin of a +wolf, tagged about with bones, skulls, dead lizards, and other ornaments +of his official attire. You may see a picture very like him in Mr. +Catlin's book about the Mandans. Armed with a drum and a rattle, he +leaped into the presence of the sick woman, uttering unearthly yells. His +benevolent action and "bedside manner" were in accordance with the +medical science of the time. He merely meant to frighten away the evil +spirit which (according to the received hypothesis) was destroying the +mother of Why-Why. What he succeeded in doing was to make Why-Why's +mother give a faint scream, after which her jaw fell, and her eyes grew +fixed and staring. + +The grief of Why-Why was profound. Reckless of consequences, he +declared, with impious publicity, that the law which forbade a wife to +see her own husband, and the medical science which frightened poor women +to death were cruel and ridiculous. As Why-Why (though a promising +child) was still under age, little notice was taken of remarks which were +attributed to the petulance of youth. But when he went further, and +transgressed the law which then forbade a brother to speak to his own +sister, on pain of death, the general indignation was no longer +repressed. In vain did Why-Why plead that if he neglected his sister no +one else would comfort her. His life was spared, but the unfortunate +little girl's bones were dug up by a German savant last year, in a +condition which makes it only too certain that cannibalism was practised +by the early natives of the Mediterranean coast. These incidents then, +namely, the neglect of his unknown father, the death of his mother, and +the execution of his sister, confirmed Why-Why in the belief that radical +social reforms were desirable. + +The coming of age of Why-Why was celebrated in the manner usual among +primitive people. The ceremonies were not of a character to increase his +pleasure in life, nor his respect for constituted authority. When he was +fourteen years of age, he was pinned, during his sleep, by four adult +braves, who knocked out his front teeth, shaved his head with sharp chips +of quartzite, cut off the first joint of his little finger, and daubed +his whole body over with clay. They then turned him loose, imposing on +him his name of Why-Why; and when his shaven hair began to show through +the clay daubing, the women of the tribe washed him, and painted him +black and white. The indignation of Why-Why may readily be conceived. +Why, he kept asking, should you shave a fellow's head, knock out his +teeth, cut off his little finger, daub him with clay, and paint him like +a pelican, because he is fourteen years old? To these radical questions, +the braves (who had all lost their own front teeth) replied, that this +was the custom of their fathers. They tried to console him, moreover, by +pointing out that now he might eat oysters, and catch himself a bride +from some hostile tribe, or give his sister in exchange for a wife. This +was little comfort to Why-Why. He had eaten oysters already without +supernatural punishment, and his sister, as we have seen, had suffered +the extreme penalty of the law. Nor could our hero persuade himself that +to club and carry off a hostile girl in the dark was the best way to win +a loving wife. He remained single, and became a great eater of oysters. + + + +THE MANHOOD OF WHY-WHY. + + +As time went on our hero developed into one of the most admired braves of +his community. No one was more successful in battle, and it became +almost a proverb that when Why-Why went on the war-path there was certain +to be meat enough and to spare, even for the women. Why-Why, though a +Radical, was so far from perfect that he invariably complied with the +usages of his time when they seemed rational and useful. If a little +tattooing on the arm would have saved men from a horrible disease, he +would have had all the tribe tattooed. He was no bigot. He kept his +word, and paid his debts, for no one was ever very "advanced" all at +once. It was only when the ceremonious or superstitious ideas of his age +and race appeared to him senseless and mischievous that he rebelled, or +at least hinted his doubts and misgivings. This course of conduct made +him feared and hated both by the medicine-men, or clerical wizards, and +by the old women of the tribe. They naturally tried to take their +revenge upon him in the usual way. + +A charge of heresy, of course, could not well be made, for in the infancy +of our race there were neither Courts of Arches nor General Assemblies. +But it was always possible to accuse Why-Why of malevolent witchcraft. +The medicine-men had not long to wait for an opportunity. An old woman +died, as old women will, and every one was asking "Who sent the evil +spirit that destroyed poor old Dada?" In Why-Why's time no other +explanation of natural death by disease or age was entertained. The old +woman's grave was dug, and all the wizards intently watched for the first +worm or insect that should crawl out of the mould. The head-wizard soon +detected a beetle, making, as he alleged, in the direction where Why-Why +stood observing the proceedings. The wizard at once denounced our hero +as the cause of the old woman's death. To have blenched for a moment +would have been ruin. But Why-Why merely lifted his hand, and in a +moment a spear flew from it which pinned his denouncer ignominiously to a +pine-tree. The funeral of the old woman was promptly converted into a +free fight, in which there was more noise than bloodshed. After this +event the medicine-men left Why-Why to his own courses, and waited for a +chance of turning public opinion against the sceptic. + +The conduct of Why-Why was certainly calculated to outrage all +conservative feeling. When on the war-path or in the excitement of the +chase he had even been known to address a tribesman by his name, as "Old +Cow," or "Flying Cloud," or what not, instead of adopting the orthodox +nomenclature of the classificatory system, and saying, "Third cousin by +the mother's side, thrice removed, will you lend me an arrow?" or +whatever it might be. On "tabu-days," once a week, when the rest of the +people in the cave were all silent, sedentary, and miserable (from some +superstitious feeling which we can no longer understand), Why-Why would +walk about whistling, or would chip his flints or set his nets. He ought +to have been punished with death, but no one cared to interfere with him. + +Instead of dancing at the great "corroborees," or religious ballets of +his people, he would "sit out" with a girl whose sad, romantic history +became fatally interwoven with his own. In vain the medicine-men assured +him that Pund-jel, the great spirit, was angry. Why-Why was indifferent +to the thunder which was believed to be the voice of Pund-jel. His +behaviour at the funeral of a celebrated brave actually caused what we +would call a reformation in burial ceremonies. + +It was usual to lay the corpses of the famous dead in a cave, where +certain of the tribesmen were sent to watch for forty days and nights the +decaying body. This ghastly task was made more severe by the difficulty +of obtaining food. Everything that the watchers were allowed to eat was +cooked outside the cave with complicated ceremonies. If any part of the +ritual was omitted, if a drop or a morsel were spilled, the whole rite +had to be done over again from the beginning. This was not all. The +chief medicine-man took a small portion of the meat in a long spoon, and +entered the sepulchral cavern. In the dim light he approached one of the +watchers of the dead, danced before him, uttered a mysterious formula of +words, and made a shot at the hungry man's mouth with a long spoon. If +the shot was straight, if the spoon did not touch the lips or nose or +mouth, the watcher made ready to receive a fresh spoonful. But if the +attempt failed, if the spoon did not go straight to the mark, the +mourners were obliged to wait till all the cooking ceremonies were +performed afresh, when the feeding began again. + +Now, Why-why was a mourner whom the chief medicine-man was anxious to +"spite," as children say, and at the end of three days' watching our hero +had not received a morsel of food. The spoon had invariably chanced to +miss him. On the fourth night Why-Why entertained his fellow-watchers +with a harangue on the imbecility of the whole proceeding. He walked out +of the cave, kicked the chief medicine-man into a ravine, seized the pot +full of meat, brought it back with him, and made a hearty meal. The +other mourners, half dead with fear, expected to see the corpse they were +"waking" arise, "girn," and take some horrible revenge. Nothing of the +sort occurred, and the burials of the cave dwellers gradually came to be +managed in a less irksome way. + + + +THE LOVES OF VERVA AND WHY-WHY. + + +No man, however intrepid, can offend with impunity the most sacred laws +of society. Why-Why proved no exception to this rule. His decline and +fall date, we may almost say, from the hour when he bought a fair-haired, +blue-eyed female child from a member of a tribe that had wandered out of +the far north. The tribe were about to cook poor little Verva because +her mother was dead, and she seemed a bouche inutile. For the price of a +pair of shell fish-hooks, a bone dagger, and a bundle of grass-string Why- +Why (who had a tender heart) ransomed the child. In the cave she lived +an unhappy life, as the other children maltreated and tortured her in the +manner peculiar to pitiless infancy. + +Such protection as a man can give to a child the unlucky little girl +received from Why-Why. The cave people, like most savages, made it a +rule never to punish their children. Why-Why got into many quarrels +because he would occasionally box the ears of the mischievous imps who +tormented poor Verva, the fair-haired and blue-eyed captive from the +north. There grew up a kind of friendship between Why-Why and the child. +She would follow him with dog-like fidelity and with a stealthy tread +when he hunted the red deer in the forests of the Alpine Maritimes. She +wove for him a belt of shells, strung on stout fibres of grass. In this +belt Why-Why would attend the tribal corroborees, where, as has been +said, he was inclined to "sit out" with Verva and watch, rather than join +in the grotesque dance performed as worship to the Bear. + +As Verva grew older and ceased to be persecuted by the children, she +became beautiful in the unadorned manner of that early time. Her +friendship with Why-Why began to embarrass the girl, and our hero himself +felt a quite unusual shyness when he encountered the captive girl among +the pines on the hillside. Both these untutored hearts were strangely +stirred, and neither Why-Why nor Verva could imagine wherefore they +turned pale or blushed when they met, or even when either heard the +other's voice. If Why-Why had not distrusted and indeed detested the +chief medicine-man, he would have sought that worthy's professional +advice. But he kept his symptoms to himself, and Verva also pined in +secret. + +These artless persons were in love without knowing it. + +It is not surprising that they did not understand the nature of their +complaint, for probably before Why-Why no one had ever been in love. +Courtship had consisted in knocking a casual girl on the head in the +dark, and the only marriage ceremony had been that of capture. Affection +on the side of the bride was out of the question, for, as we have +remarked, she was never allowed so much as to see her husband's face. +Probably the institution of falling in love has been evolved in, and has +spread from, various early centres of human existence. Among the +primitive Ligurian races, however, Why-Why and Verva must be held the +inventors, and, alas! the protomartyrs of the passion. Love, like +murder, "will out," and events revealed to Why-Why and Verva the true +nature of their sentiments. + +It was a considerable exploit of Why-Why's that brought him and the +northern captive to understand each other. The brother of Why-Why had +died after partaking too freely of a member of a hostile tribe. The cave +people, of course, expected Why-Why to avenge his kinsman. The brother, +they said, must have been destroyed by a boilya or vampire, and, as +somebody must have sent that vampire against the lad, somebody must be +speared for it. Such are primitive ideas of medicine and justice. An +ordinary brave would have skulked about the dwellings of some +neighbouring human groups till he got a chance of knocking over a child +or an old woman, after which justice and honour would have been +satisfied. But Why-Why declared that, if he must spear somebody, he +would spear a man of importance. The forms of a challenge were therefore +notched on a piece of stick, which was solemnly carried by heralds to the +most renowned brave of a community settled in the neighbourhood of the +modern San Remo. This hero might have very reasonably asked, "Why should +I spear Why-Why because his brother over-ate himself?" The laws of +honour, however (which even at this period had long been established), +forbade a gentleman when challenged to discuss the reasonableness of the +proceeding. + +The champions met on a sandy plain beside a little river near the modern +Ventimiglia. An amphitheatre of rock surrounded them, and, far beyond, +the valley was crowned by the ancient snow of an Alpine peak. The tribes +of either party gathered in the rocky amphitheatre, and breathlessly +watched the issue of the battle. Each warrior was equipped with a +shield, a sheaf of spears, and a heavy, pointed club. At thirty paces +distance they began throwing, and the spectators enjoyed a beautiful +exposition of warlike skill. Both men threw with extreme force and +deadly aim; while each defended himself cleverly with his shield. The +spears were exhausted, and but one had pierced the thigh of Why-Why, +while his opponent had two sticking in his neck and left arm. + +Then, like two meeting thunder-clouds, the champions dashed at each other +with their clubs. The sand was whirled up around them as they spun in +the wild dance of battle, and the clubs rattled incessantly on the heads +and shields. Twice Why-Why was down, but he rose with wonderful agility, +and never dropped his shield. A third time he stooped beneath a +tremendous whack, but when all seemed over, grasped a handful of sand, +and flung it right in his enemy's eyes. The warrior reeled, blinded and +confused, when Why-Why gave point with the club in his antagonist's +throat; the blood leaped out, and both fell senseless on the plain. + +* * * * * + +When the slow mist cleared from before the eyes of Why-Why he found +himself (he was doubtless the first hero of the many heroes who have +occupied this romantic position) stretched on a grassy bed, and watched +by the blue eyes of Verva. Where were the sand, the stream, the hostile +warrior, the crowds of friends and foes? It was Verva's part to explain. +The champion of the other tribe had never breathed after he received the +club-thrust, and the chief medicine-man had declared that Why-Why was +also dead. He had suggested that both champions should be burned in the +desolate spot where they lay, that their boilyas, or ghosts, might not +harm the tribes. The lookers-on had gone to their several and distant +caves to fetch fire for the ceremony (they possessed no means of striking +a light), and Verva, unnoticed, had lingered beside Why-Why, and laid his +bleeding head in her lap. Why-Why had uttered a groan, and the brave +girl dragged him from the field into a safe retreat among the woods not +far from the stream. Why-Why had been principally beaten about the head, +and his injuries, therefore, were slight. + +After watching the return of the tribesmen, and hearing the chief +medicine-man explain that Why-Why's body had been carried away by "the +bad black-fellow with a tail who lives under the earth," Why-Why enjoyed +the pleasure of seeing his kinsmen and his foes leave the place to its +natural silence. Then he found words, and poured forth his heart to +Verva. They must never be sundered--they must be man and wife! The girl +leaned her golden head on Why-Why's dark shoulder, and sniffed at him, +for kissing was an institution not yet evolved. She wept. She had a +dreadful thing to tell him,--that she could never be his. "Look at this +mark," she said, exposing the inner side of her arm. Why-Why looked, +shuddered, and turned pale. On Verva's arm he recognized, almost +defaced, the same tattooed badge that wound its sinuous spirals across +his own broad chest and round his manly legs. _It was the mark of the +Serpent_! + +Both were Serpents; both, unknown to Why-Why, though not to Verva, bore +the same name, the same badge, and, if Why-Why had been a religious man, +both would have worshipped the same reptile. Marriage between them then +was a thing accursed; man punished it by death. Why-Why bent his head +and thought. He remembered all his youth--the murder of his sister for +no crime; the killing of the serpent, and how no evil came of it; the +eating of the oysters, and how the earth had not opened and swallowed +him. His mind was made up. It was absolutely certain that his tribe and +Verva's kin had never been within a thousand miles of each other. In a +few impassioned words he explained to Verva his faith, his simple creed +that a thing was not necessarily wrong because the medicine-men said so, +and the tribe believed them. The girl's own character was all +trustfulness, and Why-Why was the person she trusted. "Oh, Why-Why, +dear," she said blushing (for she had never before ventured to break the +tribal rule which forbade calling any one by his name), "Oh, Why-Why, you +are _always_ right!" + + And o'er the hills, and far away + Beyond their utmost purple rim, + Beyond the night, across the day, + Through all the world she followed him. + + + +LA MORT WHY-WHY. + + +Two years had passed like a dream in the pleasant valley which, in far +later ages, the Romans called Vallis Aurea, and which we call Vallauris. +Here, at a distance of some thirty miles from the cave and the tribe, +dwelt in fancied concealment Why-Why and Verva. The clear stream was +warbling at their feet, in the bright blue weather of spring; the scent +of the may blossoms was poured abroad, and, lying in the hollow of Why- +Why's shield, a pretty little baby with Why-Why's dark eyes and Verva's +golden locks was crowing to his mother. Why-Why sat beside her, and was +busily making the first European pipkin with the clay which he had found +near Vallauris. All was peace. + +* * * * * + +There was a low whizzing sound, something seemed to rush past Why-Why, +and with a scream Verva fell on her face. A spear had pierced her +breast. With a yell like that of a wounded lion, Why-Why threw himself +on the bleeding body of his bride. For many moments he heard no sound +but her long, loud and unconscious breathing. He did not mark the yells +of his tribesmen, nor feel the spears that rained down on himself, nor +see the hideous face of the chief medicine-man peering at his own. Verva +ceased to breathe. There was a convulsion, and her limbs were still. +Then Why-Why rose. In his right hand was his famous club, "the watcher +of the fords;" in his left his shield. These had never lain far from his +hand since he fled with Verva. + +He knew that the end had come, as he had so often dreamt of it; he knew +that he was trapped and taken by his offended tribesmen. His first blow +shattered the head of the chief medicine-man. Then he flung himself, all +bleeding from the spears, among the press of savages who started from +every lentisk bush and tuft of tall flowering heath. They gave back when +four of their chief braves had fallen, and Why-Why lacked strength and +will to pursue them. He turned and drew Verva's body beneath the rocky +wall, and then he faced his enemies. He threw down shield and club and +raised his hands. A light seemed to shine about his face, and his first +word had a strange tone that caught the ear and chilled the heart of all +who heard him. "Listen," he said, "for these are the last words of Why- +Why. He came like the water, and like the wind he goes, he knew not +whence, and he knows not whither. He does not curse you, for you are +that which you are. But the day will come" (and here Why-Why's voice +grew louder and his eyes burned), "the day will come when you will no +longer be the slave of things like that dead dog," and here he pointed to +the shapeless face of the slain medicine-man. "The day will come, when a +man shall speak unto his sister in loving kindness, and none shall do him +wrong. The day will come when a woman shall unpunished see the face and +name the name of her husband. As the summers go by you will not bow down +to the hyaenas, and the bears, and worship the adder and the viper. You +will not cut and bruise the bodies of your young men, or cruelly strike +and seize away women in the darkness. Yes, and the time will be when a +man may love a woman of the same family name as himself"--but here the +outraged religion of the tribesmen could endure no longer to listen to +these wild and blasphemous words. A shower of spears flew out, and Why- +Why fell across the body of Verva. His own was "like a marsh full of +reeds," said the poet of the tribe, in a song which described these +events, "so thick the spears stood in it." + +* * * * * + +When he was dead, the tribe knew what they had lost in Why-Why. They +bore his body, with that of Verva, to the cave; there they laid the +lovers--Why-Why crowned with a crown of sea-shells, and with a piece of a +rare magical substance (iron) at his side. {208} Then the tribesmen +withdrew from that now holy ground, and built them houses, and forswore +the follies of the medicine-men, as Why-Why had prophesied. Many +thousands of years later the cave was opened when the railway to Genoa +was constructed, and the bones of Why-Why, with the crown, and the +fragment of iron, were found where they had been laid by his repentant +kinsmen. He had bravely asserted the rights of the individual conscience +against the dictates of Society; he had lived, and loved, and died, not +in vain. Last April I plucked a rose beside his cave, and laid it with +another that had blossomed at the door of the last house which covered +the homeless head of SHELLEY. + +The prophecies of Why-Why have been partially fulfilled. Brothers, if +they happen to be on speaking terms, may certainly speak to their +sisters, though we are still, alas, forbidden to marry the sisters of our +deceased wives. Wives _may_ see their husbands, though in Society, they +rarely avail themselves of the privilege. Young ladies are still +forbidden to call young men at large by their Christian names; but this +tribal law, and survival of the classificatory system, is rapidly losing +its force. Burials in the savage manner to which Why-Why objected, will +soon, doubtless, be permitted to conscientious Nonconformists in the +graveyards of the Church of England. The teeth of boys are still knocked +out at public and private schools, but the ceremony is neither formal nor +universal. Our advance in liberty is due to an army of forgotten Radical +martyrs of whom we know less than we do of Mr. Bradlaugh. + + + + +A DUCHESS'S SECRET. + + +When I was poor, and honest, and a novelist, I little thought that I +should ever be rich, and something not very unlike a Duke; and, as to +honesty, but an indifferent character. I have had greatness thrust on +me. I am, like Simpcox in the dramatis personae of "Henry IV.," "an +impostor;" and yet I scarcely know how I could have escaped this +deplorable (though lucrative) position. "Love is a great master," says +the "Mort d'Arthur," and I perhaps may claim sympathy and pity as a +victim of love. The following unaffected lines (in which only names and +dates are disguised) contain all the apology I can offer to a censorious +world. + +Two or three years ago I was dependent on literature for my daily bread. +I was a regular man-of-all-work. Having the advantage of knowing a clerk +in the Foreign Office who went into society (he had been my pupil at the +university), I picked up a good deal of scandalous gossip, which I +published in the Pimlico Postboy, a journal of fashion. I was also +engaged as sporting prophet to the Tipster, and was not less successful +than my contemporaries as a vaticinator of future events. At the same +time I was contributing a novel (anonymously) to the Fleet Street +Magazine, a very respectable publication, though perhaps a little dull. +The editor had expressly requested me to make things rather more lively, +and I therefore gave my imagination free play in the construction of my +plot. I introduced a beautiful girl, daughter of a preacher in the +Shaker community. Her hand was sought in marriage by a sporting baronet, +who had seen her as he pursued the chase through the pathless glens of +the New Forest. This baronet she married after suffering things +intolerable from the opposition of the Shakers. Here I had a good deal +of padding about Shakers and their ways; and, near the end of the sixth +chapter my heroine became the wife of Sir William Buckley. But the +baronet proved a perfect William Rufus for variegated and versatile +blackguardism. Lady Buckley's life was made impossible by his abominable +conduct. At this juncture my heroine chanced to be obliged to lunch at a +railway refreshment-room. My last chapter had described the poor lady +lunching lonely in the bleak and gritty waiting room of Swilby Junction, +lonely except for the company of her little boy. I showed how she fell +into a strange and morbid vein of reflection suggested by the qualities +of the local sherry. If she was to live, her lord and master, Sir W. +Buckley, must die! And I described how a fiendish temptation was +whispered to her by the glass of local sherry. "William's constitution, +strong as it is," she murmured inwardly, "could never stand a dozen of +that sherry. Suppose he chanced to partake of it--accidentally--rather +late in the evening." Amidst these reflections I allowed the December +instalment of "The Baronet's Wife" to come to a conclusion in the Fleet +Street Magazine. Obviously crime was in the wind. + +It is my habit to read the "Agony Column" (as it is flippantly called), +the second column in the outer sheet of the Times. Who knows but he may +there see something to his advantage; and, besides, the mysterious +advertisements may suggest ideas for plots. One day I took up the "Agony +Column," as usual, at my club, and, to my surprise, read the following +advertisement:-- + +"F. S. M.--SHERRY WINE. WRECK OF THE "JINGO."--WRETCHED BOY: Stay your +unhallowed hand! Would you expose an erring MOTHER'S secret? Author +will please communicate with Messrs. Mantlepiece and Co., Solicitors, +Upton-on-the-Wold." + +As soon as I saw this advertisement, as soon as my eyes fell on "Sherry +Wine" and "Author," I felt that here was something for me. "F. S. M." +puzzled me at first, but I read it Fleet Street Magazine, by a flash of +inspiration. "Wretched Boy" seemed familiar and unappropriate--I was +twenty-nine--but what of that? Of course I communicated with Messrs. +Mantlepiece, saying that I had reason for supposing that I was the +"author" alluded to in the advertisement. As to the words, "Wreck of the +Jingo" they entirely beat me, but I hoped that some light would be thrown +on their meaning by the respectable firm of solicitors. It did occur to +me that if any one had reasons for communicating with me, it would have +been better and safer to address a letter to me, under cover, to the +editor of the Fleet Street Magazine. But the public have curious ideas +on these matters. Two days after I wrote to Messrs. Mantlepiece I +received a very guarded reply, in which I was informed that their client +wished to make my acquaintance, and that a carriage would await me, if I +presented myself at Upton-on-the-Wold Station, by the train arriving at +5.45 on Friday. Well, I thought to myself, I may as well do a +"week-ending," as some people call it, with my anonymous friend as +anywhere else. At the same time I knew that the "carriage" might be +hired by enemies to convey me to the Pauper Lunatic Asylum or to West +Ham, the place where people disappear mysteriously. I might be the +victim of a rival's jealousy (and many men, novelists of most horrible +imaginings, envied my talents and success), or a Nihilist plot might have +drawn me into its machinery. But I was young, and I thought I would see +the thing out. My journey was unadventurous, if you except a row with a +German, who refused to let me open the window. But this has nothing to +do with my narrative, and is not a false scent to make a guileless reader +keep his eye on the Teuton. Some novelists permit themselves these +artifices, which I think untradesmanlike and unworthy. When I arrived at +Upton, the station-master made a charge at my carriage, and asked me if I +was "The gentleman for the Towers?" The whole affair was so mysterious +that I thought it better to answer in the affirmative. My luggage (a +Gladstone bag) was borne by four stately and liveried menials to a roomy +and magnificent carriage, in which everything, from the ducal crown on +the silver foot-warmers to the four splendid bays, breathed of opulence, +directed and animated by culture. I dismissed all thoughts of the Pauper +Lunatic Asylum and the Nihilists, and was whirled through miles of park +and up an avenue lighted by electricity. We reached the baronial gateway +of the Towers, a vast Gothic pile in the later manner of Inigo Jones, and +a seneschal stood at the foot of a magnificent staircase to receive me. I +had never seen a seneschal before, but I recognized him by the peeled +white wand he carried, by his great silver chain, and his black velvet +coat and knee-breeches. + +"Your lordship's room," says the seneschal (obviously an old and +confidential family servant), "is your old one--the Tapestried Chamber. +Her Grace is waiting anxiously for you." + +Then two menials marched, with my Gladstone bag, to the apartment thus +indicated. For me, I felt in a dream, or like a man caught up into the +fairyland of the "Arabian Nights." "Her Grace" was all very well--the +aristocracy always admired my fictitious creations; but "Your Lordship!" +Why your Lordship? Then the chilling idea occurred to me that I had +_not_ been "the gentleman for the Towers;" that I was in the position of +the hero of "Happy Thoughts" when he went to the Duke's by mistake for +the humble home of the Plyte Frazers. But I was young. "Her Grace" +could not eat me, and I determined, as I said before, to see it out. + +I dressed very deliberately, and that process over, was led by the worthy +seneschal into a singular octagonal boudoir, hung with soft dark blue +arras. The only person in the room was a gaunt, middle-aged lady, in +deep mourning. Though I knew no more of the British aristocracy than Mr. +W. D. Howells, of New York, I recognized her for the Duchess by her nose, +which resembled those worn by the duchesses of Mr. Du Maurier. As soon +as we were alone, she rose, drew me to her bosom, much to my horror, +looked at me long and earnestly, and at last exclaimed, "How changed you +are, Percy!" (My name is Thomas--Thomas Cobson.) Before I could reply, +she was pouring out reproaches on me for having concealed my existence, +and revealed in my novel what she spoke of as "the secret." + +When she grew, not calm, but fatigued, I ventured to ask why she had +conferred on me the honour of her invitation, and how I had been +unfortunate enough to allude to affairs of which I had certainly no +knowledge. Her reply was given with stately dignity. "You need not +pretend," she said, "to have forgotten what I told you in this very room, +before you left England for an African tour in the Jingo. I then +revealed to you the secret of my life, the secret of the Duke's death. +Your horror when you heard how that most unhappy man compelled me to free +myself from his tyranny, by a method which his habits rendered only too +easy--in short, by a dose of cheap sherry, was deep and natural. Oh, +Percy, you did not kiss your mother before starting on your ill-omened +voyage. As soon as I heard of the wreck of the Jingo, and that you were +the only passenger drowned, I recognized an artifice, un vieux truc, by +which you hoped to escape from a mother of whom you were ashamed. You +had only pretended to be the victim of Ocean's rage! People who are +drowned in novels always _do_ reappear: and, Percy, your mother is an old +novel-reader! My agents have ever since been on your track, but it was +reserved for _me_ to discover the last of the Birkenheads in the +anonymous author of the 'Baronet's Wife.' That romance, in which you +have had the baseness to use your knowledge of a mother's guilt as a +motif in your twopenny plot, unveiled to me the secret of your hidden +existence. You must stop the story, or alter the following numbers; you +must give up your discreditable mode of life. Heavens, that a Birkenhead +should be a literary character! And you must resume your place in my +house and in society." + +Here the Duchess of Stalybridge paused; she had quite recovered that +repose of manner and icy hauteur which, I understand, is the heritage of +the house of Birkenhead. For my part, I had almost lost the modest +confidence which is, I believe, hereditary in the family of Cobson. It +was a scene to make the boldest stand aghast. Here was an unknown lady +of the highest rank confessing a dreadful crime to a total stranger, and +recognizing in that stranger her son, and the heir to an enormous +property and a title as old--as old as British dukedoms, however old they +may be. Ouida would have said "heir to a title older than a thousand +centuries," but I doubt if the English duke is so ancient as that, or a +direct descendant of the Dukes of Edom mentioned in Holy Writ. I began +pouring out an incoherent flood of evidence to show that I was only +Thomas Cobson, and had never been any one else, but at that moment a gong +sounded, and a young lady entered the room. She also was dressed in +mourning, and the Duchess introduced her to me as my cousin, Miss +Birkenhead. "Gwyneth was a child, Percy," said my august hostess, "when +you went to Africa." I shook hands with my cousin with as much composure +as I could assume, for, to tell the truth, I was not only moved by my +recent adventures, but I had on the spot fallen hopelessly in love with +my new relative. It was le coup de foudre of a French writer on the +affections--M. Stendhal. Miss Birkenhead had won my heart from the first +moment of our meeting. Why should I attempt to describe a psychological +experience as rare as instantaneous conversion, or more so? Miss +Birkenhead was tall and dark, with a proud pale face, and eyes which +unmistakably indicated the possession of a fine sense of humour. Proud +pale people seldom look when they first meet a total stranger--still more +a long-lost cousin--as if they had some difficulty in refraining from +mirth. Miss Birkenhead's face was as fixed and almost as pure as marble, +but I read sympathy and amusement and kindness in her eyes. + +Presently the door opened again, and an elderly man in the dress of a +priest came in. To him I was presented-- + +"Your old governor, Percy." + +For a moment my unhappy middle-class association made me suppose that the +elderly ecclesiastic was my "old Guv'nor,"--my father, the late Duke. But +an instant's reflection proved to me that her Grace meant "tutor" by +governor. I am ashamed to say that I now entered into the spirit of the +scene, shook the holy man warmly by the hand, and quoted a convenient +passage from Horace. + +He appeared to fall into the trap, and began to speak of old +recollections of my boyhood. + +Stately liveried menials now, greatly to my surprise, brought in tea. I +was just declining tea (for I expected dinner in a few minutes), when a +voice (a sweet low voice) whispered-- + +"Take some!" + +I took some, providentially, as it turned out. Again, I was declining +tea-cake, when I could have sworn I heard the same voice (so low that it +seemed like the admonition of a passing spirit) say-- + +"Take some!" + +I took some, for I was exceedingly hungry; and then the conversation +lapsed, began again vaguely, and lapsed again. + +We all know that wretched quarter of an hour, or half hour, which +unpunctual guests make us pass in famine and fatigue while they keep +dinner waiting. Upon my word, we waited till half-past eleven before +dinner was announced. But for the tea, I must have perished; for, like +the butler in Sir George Dasent's novel, "I likes my meals regular." + +The Duchess had obviously forgotten all about dinner. There was a +spinning-wheel in the room, and she sat and span like an elderly Fate. +When dinner was announced at last, I began to fear it would never end. +The menu covered _both sides_ of the card. The Duchess ate little, and +"hardly anything was drunk." At last the ladies left us, about one in +the morning. I saw my chance, and began judiciously to "draw" the +chaplain. It appeared that the Duchess did not always dine at half-past +eleven. The feast was a movable one, from eight o'clock onwards. The +Duchess and the establishment had got into these habits during the old +Duke's time. A very strange man the old Duke; rarely got up till eight +in the evening, often prolonged breakfast till next day. + +"But I need not tell _you_ all this, Percy, my old pupil," said the +chaplain; and he winked as a clergyman ought not to wink. + +"My dear sir," cried I, encouraged by this performance, "for Heaven's +sake tell me what all this means? In this so-called nineteenth century, +in our boasted age of progress, what _does_ the Duchess mean by her +invitation to me, and by her conduct at large? Indeed, why is _she_ at +large?" + +The chaplain drew closer to me. "Did ye ever hear of a duchess in a +madhouse?" said he; and I owned that I never had met with such an +incident in my reading (unless there is one in Webster's plays, +somewhere). + +"Well, then, who is to make a beginning?" asked the priest. "The Duchess +has not a relation in the world but Miss Birkenhead, the only daughter of +a son of the last Duke but one. The late Duke was a dreadful man, and he +turned the poor Duchess's head with the life he led her. The drowning of +her only son in the Jingo finished the business. She has got that story +about"--(here he touched the decanter of sherry: I nodded)--"she has got +that story into her head, and she believes her son is alive; otherwise +she is as sane and unimaginative as--as--as Mr. Chaplin," said he, with a +flash of inspiration. "Happily you are an honest man, or you seem like +one, and won't take advantage of her delusion." + +This was all I could get out of the chaplain; indeed, there was no more +to be got. I went to bed, but not to sleep. Next day, and many other +days, I spent wrestling in argument with the Duchess. I brought her my +certificate of baptism, my testamurs in Smalls and Greats, an old +passport, a bill of Poole's, anything I could think of to prove my +identity. She was obdurate, and only said--"If you are not Percy, how do +you know my secret?" I had in the meantime to alter the intended course +of my novel--"The Baronet's Wife." The Baronet was made to become a +reformed character. But in all those days at the lonely Towers, and in +the intervals of arguing with the poor Duchess, I could not but meet +Gwyneth Birkenhead. We met, not as cousins, for Miss Birkenhead had only +too clearly appreciated the situation from the moment she first met me. +The old seneschal, too, was in the secret; I don't know what the rest of +the menials thought. They were accustomed to the Duchess. But if +Gwyneth and I did not meet as cousins, we met as light-hearted young +people, in a queer situation, and in a strange, dismal old house. + + _We_ could not in the selfsame mansion dwell + Without some stir of heart, some malady; + We could not sit at meals but feel how well + It soothed each to be the other by. + +Indeed _I_ could not sit at meals without being gratefully reminded of +Gwyneth's advice about "taking some" on the night of my first arrival at +the Towers. + +These queer happy times ended. + +One day a party of archaeologists came to visit the Towers. They were +members of a "Society for Badgering the Proprietors of Old Houses," and +they had been lunching at Upton-on-the-Wold. After luncheon they invaded +the Towers, personally conducted by Mr. Bulkin, a very learned historian. +Bulkin had nearly plucked me in Modern History, and when I heard his +voice afar off I arose and fled swiftly. Unluckily the Duchess chanced, +by an unprecedented accident, to be in the library, a room which the +family never used, and which was, therefore, exhibited to curious +strangers. Into this library Bulkin precipitated himself, followed by +his admirers, and began to lecture on the family portraits. Beginning +with the Crusaders (painted by Lorenzo Credi) he soon got down to modern +times. He took no notice of the Duchess, whom he believed to be a +housekeeper; but, posting himself between the unfortunate lady and the +door, gave a full account of the career of the late Duke. This was more +than the Duchess (who knew all about the subject of the lecture) could +stand; but Mr. Bulkin, referring her to his own Appendices, finished his +address, and offered the Duchess half-a-crown as he led his troop to +other victories. From this accident the Duchess never recovered. Her +spirits, at no time high, sank to zero, and she soon passed peacefully +away. She left a will in which her personal property (about 40,000 +pounds a year) was bequeathed to Gwyneth, "as my beloved son, Percy, has +enough for his needs," the revenues of the dukedom of Stalybridge being +about 300,000 pounds per annum before the agricultural depression. She +might well have thought I needed no more. Of course I put in no claim +for these estates, messuages, farms, mines, and so forth, nor for my +hereditary ducal pension of 15,000 pounds. But Gwyneth and I are not +uncomfortably provided for, and I no longer contribute paragraphs of +gossip to the Pimlico Postboy, nor yet do I vaticinate in the columns of +the Tipster. Perhaps I ought to have fled from the Towers the morning +after my arrival. And I declare that I would have fled but for Gwyneth +and "Love, that is a great Master." + + + + +THE HOUSE OF STRANGE STORIES. + + +The House of Strange Stories, as I prefer to call it (though it is not +known by that name in the county), seems the very place for a ghost. Yet, +though so many peoples have dwelt upon its site and in its chambers, +though the ancient Elizabethan oak, and all the queer tables and chairs +that a dozen generations have bequeathed, might well be tenanted by +ancestral spirits, and disturbed by rappings, it is a curious fact that +there is _not_ a ghost in the House of Strange Stories. On my earliest +visit to this mansion, I was disturbed, I own, by a not unpleasing +expectancy. There _must_, one argued, be a shadowy lady in green in the +bedroom, or, just as one was falling asleep, the spectre of a Jesuit +would creep out of the priest's hole, where he was starved to death in +the "spacious times of great Elizabeth," and would search for a morsel of +bread. The priest was usually starved out, sentinels being placed in all +the rooms and passages, till at last hunger and want of air would drive +the wretched man to give himself up, for the sake of change of +wretchedness. Then perhaps he was hanged, or he "died in our hands," as +one of Elizabeth's officers euphemistically put it, when the Jesuit was +tortured to death in the Tower. No "House of Seven Gables" across the +Atlantic can have quite such memories as these, yet, oddly enough, I do +not know of more than one ghost of a Jesuit in all England. _He_ +appeared to a learned doctor in a library, and the learned doctor +described the phantom, not long ago, in the Athenaeum. + +"Does the priest of your 'priest-hole' walk?" I asked the squire one +winter evening in the House of Strange Stories. + +Darkness had come to the rescue of the pheasants about four in the +afternoon, and all of us, men and women, were sitting at afternoon tea in +the firelit study, drowsily watching the flicker of the flame on the +black panelling. The characters will introduce themselves, as they take +part in the conversation. + +"No," said the squire, "even the priest does not walk. Somehow very few +of the Jesuits have left ghosts in country houses. They are just the +customers you would expect to 'walk,' but they don't." + +There is, to be sure, one priestly ghost-story, which you may or may not +know, and I tell it here, though I don't believe it, just as I heard it +from the Bishop of Dunchester himself. According to this most affable +and distinguished prelate, now no more, he once arrived in a large +country house shortly before dinner-time; he was led to his chamber, he +dressed, and went downstairs. Not knowing the plan of the house, he +found his way into the library, a chamber lined with the books of many +studious generations. Here the learned bishop remained for a few +minutes, when the gong sounded for dinner, and a domestic, entering the +apartment showed the prelate the way to the drawing-room, where the other +guests were now assembled. The bishop, when the company appeared +complete, and was beginning to manoeuvre towards the dining-room, +addressed his host (whom we shall call Lord Birkenhead), and observed +that the ecclesiastic had not yet appeared. + +"What ecclesiastic?" asked his lordship. + +"The priest," replied the bishop, "whom I met in the library." + +Upon this Lord Birkenhead's countenance changed somewhat, and, with a +casual remark, he put the question by. After dinner, when the ladies had +left the men to their wine, Lord Birkenhead showed some curiosity as to +"the ecclesiastic," and learned that he had seemed somewhat shy and +stiff, yet had the air of a man just about to enter into conversation. + +"At that moment," said the bishop, "I was summoned to the drawing-room, +and did not at first notice that my friend the priest had not followed +me. He had an interesting and careworn face," added the bishop. + +"You have certainly seen the family ghost," said Lord Birkenhead; "he +only haunts the library, where, as you may imagine, his retirement is but +seldom disturbed." And, indeed, the habits of the great, in England, are +not studious, as a rule. + +"Then I must return, Lord Birkenhead, to your library," said the bishop, +"and that without delay, for this appears to be a matter in which the +services of one of the higher clergy, however unworthy, may prove of +incalculable benefit." + +"If I could only hope," answered Lord Birkenhead (who was a Catholic) +with a deep sigh, "that his reverence would recognize Anglican orders!" + +The bishop was now, as may be fancied, on his mettle, and without further +parley, retired to the library. The rest of the men awaited his return, +and beguiled the moments of expectation with princely havannas. + +In about half an hour the bishop reappeared, and a close observer might +have detected a shade of paleness on his apostolic features, yet his face +was radiant like that of a good man who has performed a good action. +Being implored to relieve the anxiety of the company, the worthy prelate +spoke as follows: + +"On entering the library, which was illuminated by a single lamp, I found +myself alone. I drew a chair to the fire, and, taking up a volume of M. +Renan's which chanced to be lying on the table, I composed myself to +detect the sophistries of this brilliant but unprincipled writer. Thus, +by an effort of will, I distracted myself from that state of 'expectant +attention' to which modern science attributes such phantoms and spectral +appearances as can neither be explained away by a morbid condition of the +liver, nor as caused by the common rat (Mus rattus). I should observe by +the way," said the learned bishop, interrupting his own narrative, "that +scepticism will in vain attempt to account, by the latter cause, namely +rats, for the spectres, Lemures, simulacra, and haunted houses of the +ancient Greeks and Romans. With these supernatural phenomena, as they +prevailed in Athens and Rome, we are well acquainted, not only from the +Mostellaria of Plautus, but from the numerous ghost-stories of Pliny, +Plutarch, the Philopseudes of Lucian, and similar sources. But it will +at once be perceived, and admitted even by candid men of science, that +these spiritual phenomena of the classical period cannot plausibly, nor +even possibly, be attributed to the agency of rats, when we recall the +fact that the rat was an animal unknown to the ancients. As the learned +M. Selys Longch observes in his Etudes de Micromammalogie (Paris, 1839, +p. 59), 'the origin of the rat is obscure, the one thing certain is that +the vermin was unknown to the ancients, and that it arrived in Europe, +introduced, perhaps, by the Crusaders, after the Middle Ages.' I think," +added the prelate, looking round, not without satisfaction, "that I have +completely disposed of the rat hypothesis, as far, at least, as the +ghosts of classical tradition are concerned." + +"Your reasoning, bishop," replied Lord Birkenhead, "is worthy of your +reputation; but pray pardon the curiosity which entreats you to return +from the simulacra of the past to the ghost of the present." + +"I had not long been occupied with M. Renan," said the bishop, thus +adjured, "when I became aware of the presence of another person in the +room. I think my eyes had strayed from the volume, as I turned a page, +to the table, on which I perceived the brown strong hand of a young man. +Looking up, I beheld my friend the priest, who was indeed a man of some +twenty-seven years of age, with a frank and open, though somewhat +careworn, aspect. I at once rose, and asked if I could be of service to +him in anything, and I trust I did not betray any wounding suspicion that +he was other than a man of flesh and blood. + +"'You can, indeed, my lord, relieve me of a great burden,' said the young +man, and it was apparent enough that he _did_ acknowledge the validity of +Anglican orders. 'Will you kindly take from the shelf that volume of +Cicero "De Officiis," he said, pointing to a copy of an Elzevir variorum +edition,--not the small duodecimo Elzevir,--'remove the paper you will +find there, and burn it in the fire on the hearth.' + +"'Certainly I will do as you say, but will you reward me by explaining +the reason of your request?' + +"'In me,' said the appearance, 'you behold Francis Wilton, priest. I was +born in 1657, and, after adventures and an education with which I need +not trouble you, found myself here as chaplain to the family of the Lord +Birkenhead of the period. It chanced one day that I heard in confession, +from the lips of Lady Birkenhead, a tale so strange, moving, and, but for +the sacred circumstances of the revelation, so incredible, that my soul +had no rest for thinking thereon. At last, neglecting my vow, and +fearful that I might become forgetful of any portion of so marvellous a +narrative, I took up my pen and committed the confession to the security +of manuscript. Litera scripta manet. Scarcely had I finished my unholy +task when the sound of a distant horn told me that the hunt (to which +pleasure I was passionately given) approached the demesne. I thrust the +written confession into that volume of Cicero, hurried to the stable, +saddled my horse with my own hands, and rode in the direction whence I +heard the music of the hounds. On my way a locked gate barred my +progress. I put Rupert at it, he took off badly, fell, and my spirit +passed away in the fall. But not to the place of repose did my sinful +spirit wing its flight. I found myself here in the library, where, +naturally, scarcely any one ever comes except the maids. When I would +implore them to destroy the unholy document that binds me to earth, they +merely scream; nor have I found any scion of the house, nor any guest, +except your lordship, of more intrepid resolution or more charitable +mood. And now, I trust, you will release me.' + +"I rose (for I had seated myself during his narrative), my heart was +stirred with pity; I took down the Cicero, and lit on a sheet of yellow +paper covered with faded manuscript, which, of course, I did not read. I +turned to the hearth, tossed on the fire the sere old paper, which blazed +at once, and then, hearing the words pax vobiscum, I looked round. But I +was alone. After a few minutes, devoted to private ejaculations, I +returned to the dining-room; and that is all my story. Your maids need +no longer dread the ghost of the library. He is released." + +"Will any one take any more wine?" asked Lord Birkenhead, in tones of +deep emotion. "No? Then suppose we join the ladies." + +"Well," said one of the ladies, the Girton girl, when the squire had +finished the prelate's narrative, "_I_ don't call that much of a story. +What was Lady Birkenhead's confession about? That's what one really +wants to know." + +"The bishop could not possibly have read the paper," said the Bachelor of +Arts, one of the guests; "not as a gentleman, nor a bishop." + +"I wish _I_ had had the chance," said the Girton girl. + +"Perhaps the confession was in Latin," said the Bachelor of Arts. + +The Girton girl disdained to reply to this unworthy sneer. + +"I have often observed," she said in a reflective voice, "that the most +authentic and best attested bogies don't come to very much. They appear +in a desultory manner, without any context, so to speak, and, like other +difficulties, require a context to clear up their meaning." + +These efforts of the Girton girl to apply the methods of philology to +spectres, were received in silence. The women did not understand them, +though they had a strong personal opinion about their learned author. + +"The only ghost _I_ ever came across, or, rather, came within measurable +distance of, never appeared at all so far as one knew." + +"Miss Lebas has a story," said the squire, "Won't she tell us her story?" + +The ladies murmured, "Do, please." + +"It really cannot be called a ghost-story," remarked Miss Lebas, "it was +only an uncomfortable kind of coincidence, and I never think of it +without a shudder. But I know there is not any reason at all why it +should make any of _you_ shudder; so don't be disappointed. + +"It was the Long Vacation before last," said the Girton girl, "and I went +on a reading-party to Bantry Bay, with Wyndham and Toole of Somerville, +and Clare of Lady Margaret's. Leighton coached us." + +"Dear me! With all these young men, my dear?" asked the maiden aunt. + +"They were all women of my year, except Miss Leighton of Newnham, who was +our coach," answered the Girton girl composedly. + +"Dear me! I beg your pardon for interrupting you," said the maiden aunt. + +"Well, term-time was drawing near, and Bantry Bay was getting pretty +cold, when I received an invitation from Lady Garryowen to stay with them +at Dundellan on my way south. They were two very dear, old, hospitable +Irish ladies, the last of their race, Lady Garryowen and her sister, Miss +Patty. They were _so_ hospitable that, though I did not know it, +Dundellan was quite full when I reached it, overflowing with young +people. The house has nothing very remarkable about it: a grey, plain +building, with remains of the chateau about it, and a high park wall. In +the garden wall there is a small round tower, just like those in the +precinct wall at St. Andrews. The ground floor is not used. On the +first floor there is a furnished chamber with a deep round niche, almost +a separate room, like that in Queen Mary's apartments in Holy Rood. The +first floor has long been fitted up as a bedroom and dressing-room, but +it had not been occupied, and a curious old spinning-wheel in the corner +(which has nothing to do with my story, if you can call it a story), must +have been unused since '98, at least. I reached Dublin late--our train +should have arrived at half-past six--it was ten before we toiled into +the station. The Dundellan carriage was waiting for me, and, after an +hour's drive, I reached the house. The dear old ladies had sat up for +me, and I went to bed as soon as possible, in a very comfortable room. I +fell asleep at once, and did not waken till broad daylight, between seven +and eight, when, as my eyes wandered about, I saw, by the pictures on the +wall, and the names on the books beside my bed, that Miss Patty must have +given up her own room to me. I was quite sorry and, as I dressed, +determined to get her to let me change into any den rather than accept +this sacrifice. I went downstairs, and found breakfast ready, but +neither Lady Garryowen nor Miss Patty. Looking out of the window into +the garden, I heard, for the only time in my life, the wild Irish _keen_ +over the dead, and saw the old nurse wailing and wringing her hands and +hurrying to the house. As soon as she entered she told me, with a burst +of grief, and in language I shall not try to imitate, that Miss Patty was +dead. + +"When I arrived the house was so full that there was literally no room +for me. But 'Dundellan was never beaten yet,' the old ladies had said. +There was still the room in the tower. But this room had such an evil +reputation for being 'haunted' that the servants could hardly be got to +go near it, at least after dark, and the dear old ladies never dreamed of +sending any of their guests to pass a bad night in a place with a bad +name. Miss Patty, who had the courage of a Bayard, did not think twice. +She went herself to sleep in the haunted tower, and left her room to me. +And when the old nurse went to call her in the morning, she could not +waken Miss Patty. She was dead. Heart-disease, they called it. Of +course," added the Girton girl, "as I said, it was only a coincidence. +But the Irish servants could not be persuaded that Miss Patty had not +seen whatever the thing was that they believed to be in the garden tower. +I don't know what it was. You see the context was dreadfully vague, a +mere fragment." + +There was a little silence after the Girton girl's story. + +"I never heard before in my life," said the maiden aunt, at last, "of any +host or hostess who took the haunted room themselves, when the house +happened to be full. They always send the stranger within their gates to +it, and then pretend to be vastly surprised when he does not have a good +night. I had several bad nights myself once. In Ireland too." + +"Tell us all about it, Judy," said her brother, the squire. + +"No," murmured the maiden aunt. "You would only laugh at me. There was +no ghost. I didn't hear anything. I didn't see anything. I didn't even +_smell_ anything, as they do in that horrid book, 'The Haunted Hotel.'" + +"Then why had you such bad nights?" + +"Oh, I _felt_" said the maiden aunt, with a little shudder. + +"What did _you feel_, Aunt Judy?" + +"I _know_ you will laugh," said the maiden aunt, abruptly entering on her +nervous narrative. "I felt all the time _as if somebody was looking +through the window_. Now, you know, there _couldn't_ be anybody. It was +in an Irish country house where I had just arrived, and my room was on +the second floor. The window was old-fashioned and narrow, with a deep +recess. As soon as I went to bed, my dears, I _felt_ that some one was +looking through the window, and meant to come in. I got up, and bolted +the window, though I knew it was impossible for anybody to climb up +there, and I drew the curtains, but I could not fall asleep. If ever I +began to dose, I would waken with a start, and turn and look in the +direction of the window. I did not sleep all night, and next night, +though I was dreadfully tired, it was just the same thing. So I had to +take my hostess into my confidence, though it was extremely disagreeable, +my dears, to seem so foolish. I only told her that I thought the air, or +something, must disagree with me, for I could not sleep. Then, as some +one was leaving the house that day, she implored me to try another room, +where I slept beautifully, and afterwards had a very pleasant visit. But, +the day I went away, my hostess asked me if I had been kept awake by +anything in particular, for instance, by a feeling that some one was +trying to come in at the window. Well, I admitted that I _had_ a nervous +feeling of that sort, and she said that she was very sorry, and that +every one who lay in the room had exactly the same sensation. She +supposed they must all have heard the history of the room, in childhood, +and forgotten that they had heard it, and then been consciously reminded +of it by reflex action. It seems, my dears, that that is the new +scientific way of explaining all these things, presentiments and dreams +and wraiths, and all that sort of thing. We have seen them before, and +remember them without being aware of it. So I said I'd never heard the +history of the room; but she said I _must_ have, and so must all the +people who felt as if some one was coming in by the window. And I said +that it was rather a curious thing they should _all_ forget they knew it, +and _all_ be reminded of it without being aware of it, and that, if she +did not mind, I'd like to be reminded of it again. So she said that +these objections had all been replied to (just as clergymen always say in +sermons), and then she told me the history of the room. It only came to +this, that, three generations before, the family butler (whom every one +had always thought a most steady, respectable man), dressed himself up +like a ghost, or like his notion of a ghost, and got a ladder, and came +in by the window to steal the diamonds of the lady of the house, and he +frightened her to death, poor woman! That was all. But, ever since, +people who sleep in the room don't sleep, so to speak, and keep thinking +that some one is coming in by the casement. That's all; and I told you +it was not an interesting story, but perhaps you will find more interest +in the scientific explanation of all these things." + +The story of the maiden aunt, so far as it recounted her own experience, +did not contain anything to which the judicial faculties of the mind +refused assent. Probably the Bachelor of Arts felt that something a good +deal more unusual was wanted, for he instantly started, without being +asked, on the following narrative:-- + +"I also was staying," said the Bachelor of Arts, "at the home of my +friends, the aristocracy in Scotland. The name of the house, and the +precise rank in the peerage of my illustrious host, it is not necessary +for me to give. All, however, who know those more than feudal and +baronial halls, are aware that the front of the castle looks forth on a +somewhat narrow drive, bordered by black and funereal pines. On the +night of my arrival at the castle, although I went late to bed, I did not +feel at all sleepy. Something, perhaps, in the mountain air, or in the +vicissitudes of baccarat, may have banished slumber. I had been in luck, +and a pile of sovereigns and notes lay, in agreeable confusion, on my +dressing-table. My feverish blood declined to be tranquillized, and at +last I drew up the blind, threw open the latticed window, and looked out +on the drive and the pine-wood. The faint and silvery blue of dawn was +just wakening in the sky, and a setting moon hung, with a peculiarly +ominous and wasted appearance, above the crests of the forest. But +conceive my astonishment when I beheld, on the drive, and right under my +window, a large and well-appointed hearse, with two white horses, with +plumes complete, and attended by mutes, whose black staffs were tipped +with silver that glittered pallid in the dawn. + +I exhausted my ingenuity in conjectures as to the presence of this +remarkable vehicle with the white horses, so unusual, though, when one +thinks of it, so appropriate to the chariot of Death. Could some belated +visitor have arrived in a hearse, like the lady in Miss Ferrier's novel? +Could one of the domestics have expired, and was it the intention of my +host to have the body thus honourably removed without casting a gloom +over his guests? + +Wild as these hypotheses appeared, I could think of nothing better, and +was just about to leave the window, and retire to bed, when the driver of +the strange carriage, who had hitherto sat motionless, turned, and looked +me full in the face. Never shall I forget the appearance of this man, +whose sallow countenance, close-shaven dark chin, and small, black +moustache, combined with I know not what of martial in his air, struck +into me a certain indefinable alarm. No sooner had he caught my eye, +than he gathered up his reins, just raised his whip, and started the +mortuary vehicle at a walk down the road. I followed it with my eyes +till a bend in the avenue hid it from my sight. So wrapt up was my +spirit in the exercise of the single sense of vision that it was not till +the hearse became lost to view that I noticed the entire absence of sound +which accompanied its departure. Neither had the bridles and trappings +of the white horses jingled as the animals shook their heads, nor had the +wheels of the hearse crashed upon the gravel of the avenue. I was +compelled by all these circumstances to believe that what I had looked +upon was not of this world, and, with a beating heart, I sought refuge in +sleep. + +"Next morning, feeling far from refreshed, I arrived among the latest at +a breakfast which was a desultory and movable feast. Almost all the men +had gone forth to hill, forest, or river, in pursuit of the furred, +finned, or feathered denizens of the wilds--" + +"You speak," interrupted the schoolboy, "like a printed book! I like to +hear you speak like that. Drive on, old man! Drive on your hearse!" + +The Bachelor of Arts "drove on," without noticing this interruption. "I +tried to 'lead up' to the hearse," he said, "in conversation with the +young ladies of the castle. I endeavoured to assume the languid and +preoccupied air of the guest who, in ghost-stories, has had a bad night +with the family spectre. I drew the conversation to the topic of +apparitions, and even to warnings of death. I knew that every family +worthy of the name has its omen: the Oxenhams a white bird, another house +a brass band, whose airy music is poured forth by invisible performers, +and so on. Of course I expected some one to cry, 'Oh, _we've_ got a +hearse with white horses,' for that is the kind of heirloom an ancient +house regards with complacent pride. But nobody offered any remarks on +the local omen, and even when I drew near the topic of _hearses_, one of +the girls, my cousin, merely quoted, 'Speak not like a death's-head, good +Doll' (my name is Adolphus), and asked me to play at lawn-tennis. + +In the evening, in the smoking-room, it was no better, nobody had ever +heard of an omen in this particular castle. Nay, when I told my story, +for it came to that at last, they only laughed at me, and said I must +have dreamed it. Of course I expected to be wakened in the night by some +awful apparition, but nothing disturbed me. I never slept better, and +hearses were the last things I thought of during the remainder of my +visit. Months passed, and I had almost forgotten the vision, or dream, +for I began to feel apprehensive that, after all, it _was_ a dream. So +costly and elaborate an apparition as a hearse with white horses and +plumes complete, could never have been got up, regardless of expense, for +one occasion only, and to frighten one undergraduate, yet it was certain +that the hearse was not 'the old family coach.' My entertainers had +undeniably never heard of it in their lives before. Even tradition at +the castle said nothing of a spectral hearse, though the house was +credited with a white lady deprived of her hands, and a luminous boy. + +Here the Bachelor of Arts paused, and a shower of chaff began. + +"Is that really all?" asked the Girton girl. + +"Why, this is the third ghost-story to-night without any ghost in it!" + +"I don't remember saying that it _was_ a ghost-story," replied the +Bachelor of Arts; "but I thought a little anecdote of a mere 'warning' +might not be unwelcome." + +"But where does the warning come in?" asked the schoolboy. + +"That's just what I was arriving at," replied the narrator, "when I was +interrupted with as little ceremony as if I had been Mr. Gladstone in the +middle of a most important speech. I was going to say that, in the +Easter Vacation after my visit to the castle, I went over to Paris with a +friend, a fellow of my college. We drove to the Hotel d'Alsace (I +believe there is no hotel of that name; if there is, I beg the spirited +proprietor's pardon, and assure him that nothing personal is intended). +We marched upstairs with our bags and baggage, and jolly high stairs they +were. When we had removed the soil of travel from our persons, my friend +called out to me, 'I say, Jones, why shouldn't we go down by the lift.' +{256} 'All right,' said I, and my friend walked to the door of the +mechanical apparatus, opened it, and got in. I followed him, when the +porter whose business it is to 'personally conduct' the inmates of the +hotel, entered also, and was closing the door. + +"His eyes met mine, and I knew him in a moment. I had seen him once +before. His sallow face, black, closely shaven chin, furtive glance, and +military bearing, were the face and the glance and bearing of the driver +of that awful hearse! + +"In a moment--more swiftly than I can tell you--I pushed past the man, +threw open the door, and just managed, by a violent effort, to drag my +friend on to the landing. Then the lift rose with a sudden impulse, fell +again, and rushed, with frightful velocity, to the basement of the hotel, +whence we heard an appalling crash, followed by groans. We rushed +downstairs, and the horrible spectacle of destruction that met our eyes I +shall never forget. The unhappy porter was expiring in agony; but the +warning had saved my life and my friend's." + +"_I was that friend_," said I--the collector of these anecdotes; "and so +far I can testify to the truth of Jones's story." + +At this moment, however, the gong for dressing sounded, and we went to +our several apartments, after this emotional specimen of "Evenings at +Home." + + + + +IN CASTLE PERILOUS. + + +"What we suffer from most," said the spectre, when I had partly recovered +from my fright, "is a kind of aphasia." + +The spectre was sitting on the armchair beside my bed in the haunted room +of Castle Perilous. + +"I don't know," said I, as distinctly as the chattering of my teeth would +permit, "that I quite follow you. Would you mind--excuse me--handing me +that flask which lies on the table near you. . . . Thanks." + +The spectre, without stirring, so arranged the a priori sensuous schemata +of time and space {261} that the silver flask, which had been well out of +my reach, was in my hand. I poured half the contents into a cup and +offered it to him. + +"No spirits," he said curtly. + +I swallowed eagerly the heady liquor, and felt a little more like myself. + +"You were complaining," I remarked, "of something like aphasia?" + +"I was," he replied. "You know what aphasia is in the human subject? A +paralysis of certain nervous centres, which prevents the patient, though +perfectly sane, from getting at the words which he intends to use, and +forces others upon him. He may wish to observe that it is a fine +morning, and may discover that his idea has taken the form of an +observation about the Roman Calendar under the Emperor Justinian. That +is aphasia, and we suffer from what, I presume, is a spiritual +modification of that disorder." + +"Yet to-night," I responded, "you are speaking like a printed book." + +"To-night," said the spectre, acknowledging the compliment with a bow, +"the conditions are peculiarly favourable." + +"Not to _me_," I thought, with a sigh. + +"And I am able to manifest myself with unusual clearness." + +"Then you are not always in such form as I am privileged to find you in?" +I inquired. + +"By no means," replied the spectre. "Sometimes I cannot appear worth a +cent. Often I am invisible to the naked eye, and even quite +indiscernible by any of the senses. Sometimes I can only rap on the +table, or send a cold wind over a visitor's face, or at most pull off his +bedclothes (like the spirit which appeared to Caligula, and is mentioned +by Suetonius) and utter hollow groans." + +"That's exactly what you _did_," I said, "when you wakened me. I thought +I should have died." + +"I can't say how distressed I am," answered the spectre. "It is just an +instance of what I was trying to explain. We don't know how we are going +to manifest ourselves." + +"Don't apologize," I replied, "for a constitutional peculiarity. To what +do you attribute your success to night?" + +"Partly to your extremely receptive condition, partly to the whisky you +took in the smoking-room, but chiefly to the magnetic environment." + +"Then you do not suffer at all from aphasia just now?" + +"Not a touch of it at this moment, thank you; but, as a rule, we all _do_ +suffer horribly. This accounts for everything that you embodied spirits +find remarkable and enigmatic in our conduct. We _mean_ something, +straight enough; but our failure is in expression. Just think how often +you go wrong yourselves, though _your_ spirits have a brain to play on, +like the musician with a piano. Now _we_ have to do as well as we can +without any such mechanical advantage as a brain of cellular tissue"--here +he suddenly took the form of a white lady with a black sack over her +head, and disappeared in the wainscot. + +"Excuse me," he said a moment afterwards, quite in his ordinary voice, "I +had a touch of it, I fancy. I lost the thread of my argument, and am +dimly conscious of having expressed myself in some unusual and more or +less incoherent fashion. I hope it was nothing at all vulgar or +distressing?" + +"Nothing out of the way in haunted houses, I assure you," I replied, +"merely a white lady with a black sack over her head." + +"Oh, _that_ was it," he answered with a sigh; "I often am afflicted in +that way. Don't mind me if I turn into a luminous boy, or a very old man +in chains, or a lady in a green gown and high-heeled shoes, or a headless +horseman, or a Mauth hound, or anything of that sort. They are all quite +imperfect expressions of our nature,--symptoms, in short, of the malady I +mentioned." + +"Then the appalling manifestations to which you allude are not the +apparitions of the essential ghost? It is not in those forms that he +appears among his friends?" + +"Certainly not," said the spectre; "and it would be very promotive of +good feeling between men and disembodied spirits if this were more +generally known. I myself--" + +Here he was interrupted by an attack of spirit rappings. A brisk series +of sharp faint taps, of a kind I never heard before, resounded from all +the furniture of the room. {265} While the disturbance continued, the +spectre drummed nervously with his fingers on his knee. The sounds ended +as suddenly as they had begun, and he expressed his regrets. "It is a +thing I am subject to," he remarked; "nervous, I believe, but, to persons +unaccustomed to it, alarming." + +"It _is_ rather alarming," I admitted. + +"A mere fit of sneezing," he went on; "but you are now able to judge, +from the events of to-night, how extremely hard it is for us, with the +best intentions, to communicate coherently with the embodied world. Why, +there is the Puddifant ghost--in Lord Puddifant's family, you know: _he_ +has been trying for generations to inform his descendants that the +drainage of the castle is execrable. Yet he can never come nearer what +he means than taking the form of a shadowy hearse-and-four, and driving +round and round Castle Puddifant at midnight. And old Lady Wadham's +ghost, what a sufferer that woman is! She merely desires to remark that +the family diamonds, lost many years ago, were never really taken abroad +by the valet and sold. He only had time to conceal them in a secret +drawer behind the dining-room chimney-piece. Now she can get no nearer +expressing herself than producing a spirited imitation of the music of +the bagpipes, which wails up and down the house, and frightens the +present Sir Robert Wadham and his people nearly out of their wits. And +that's the way with almost all of us: there is literally no connection +(as a rule) between our expressions and the things we intend to express. +You know how the Psychical Society make quite a study of rappings, and +try to interpret them by the alphabet? Well, these, as I told you, are +merely a nervous symptom; annoying, no doubt, but not dangerous. The +only spectres, almost, that manage to hint what they really mean are +Banshees." + +"_They_ intend to herald an approaching death?" I asked. + +"They do, and abominably bad taste I call it, unless a man has neglected +to insure his life, and _then_ I doubt if a person of honour could make +use of information from--from that quarter. Banshees are chiefly the +spectres of attached and anxious old family nurses, women of the lower +orders, and completely destitute of tact. I call a Banshee rather a +curse than a boon and a blessing to men. Like most old family servants, +they are apt to be presuming." + +It occurred to me that the complacent spectre himself was not an unmixed +delight to the inhabitants of Castle Perilous, or at least to their +guests, for they never lay in the Green Chamber themselves. + +"Can nothing be done," I asked sympathetically, "to alleviate the +disorders which you say are so common and distressing?" + +"The old system of spiritual physic," replied the spectre, "is obsolete, +and the holy-water cure, in particular, has almost ceased to number any +advocates, except the Rev. Dr F. G. Lee, whose books," said this candid +apparition, "appear to me to indicate superstitious credulity. No, I +don't know that any new discoveries have been made in this branch of +therapeutics. In the last generation they tried to bolt me with a +bishop: like putting a ferret into a rabbit-warren, you know. Nothing +came of _that_, and lately the Psychical Society attempted to ascertain +my weight by an ingenious mechanism. But they prescribed nothing, and +made me feel so nervous that I was rapping at large, and knocking +furniture about for months. The fact is that nobody understands the +complaint, nor can detect the cause that makes the ghost of a man who was +perfectly rational in life behave like an uneducated buffoon afterwards. +The real reason, as I have tried to explain to you, is a solution of +continuity between subjective thought and will on the side of the +spectre, and objective expression of them--confound it--" + +Here he vanished, and the sound of heavy feet was heard promenading the +room, and balls of incandescent light floated about irresolutely, +accompanied by the appearance of a bearded man in armour. The door +(which I had locked and bolted before going to bed) kept opening and +shutting rapidly, so as to cause a draught, and my dog fled under the bed +with a long low howl. + +"I do hope," remarked the spectre, presently reappearing, "that these +interruptions (only fresh illustrations of our malady) have not +frightened your dog into a fit. I have known very valuable and attached +dogs expire of mere unreasoning terror on similar unfortunate occasions." + +"I'm sure I don't wonder at it," I replied; "but I believe Bingo is still +alive; in fact, I hear him scratching himself." + +"Would you like to examine him?" asked the spectre. + +"Oh, thanks, I am sure he is all right," I answered (for nothing in the +world would have induced me to get out of bed while he was in the room). +"Do you object to a cigarette?" + +"Not at all, not at all; but Lady Perilous, I assure you, is a very old +fashioned chatelaine. However, if _you_ choose to risk it--" + +I found my cigarette-case in my hand, opened it, and selected one of its +contents, which I placed between my lips. As I was looking round for a +match-box, the spectre courteously put his forefinger to the end of the +cigarette, which lighted at once. + +"Perhaps you wonder," he remarked, "why I remain at Castle Perilous, the +very one of all my places which I never could bear while I was alive--as +you call it?" + +"I had a delicacy about asking," I answered. + +"Well," he continued, "I am the family genius." + +"I might have guessed _that_," I said. + +He bowed and went on. "It is hereditary in our house, and I hold the +position of genius till I am relieved. For example, when the family want +to dig up the buried treasure under the old bridge, I thunder and lighten +and cause such a storm that they desist." + +"Why on earth do you do _that_?" I asked. "It seems hardly worth while +to have a genius at all." + +"In the interests of the family morality. The money would soon go on the +turf, and on dice, drink, etc., if they excavated it; and then I work the +curse, and bring off the prophecies, and so forth." + +"What prophecies?" + +"Oh, the rigmarole the old family seer came out with before they burned +him for an unpalatable prediction at the time of the '15. He was very +much vexed about it, of course, and he just prophesied any nonsense of a +disagreeable nature that came into his head. You know what these crofter +fellows are--ungrateful, vindictive rascals. He had been in receipt of +outdoor relief for years. Well, he prophesied stuff like this: 'When the +owl and the eagle meet on the same blasted rowan tree, then a lassie in a +white hood from the east shall make the burn of Cross-cleugh run full +red,' and drivel of that insane kind. Well, you can't think what trouble +that particular prophecy gave me. It had to be fulfilled, of course, for +the family credit, and I brought it off as near as, I flatter myself, it +could be done." + +"Lady Perilous was telling me about it last night," I said, with a +shudder. "It was a horrible affair," + +"Yes, no doubt, no doubt; a cruel business! But how I am to manage some +of them I'm sure _I_ don't know. There's one of them in rhyme. Let me +see, how does it go? + + "'When Mackenzie lies in the perilous ha', + The wild Red Cock on the roof shall craw, + And the lady shall flee ere the day shall daw, + And the land shall girn in the deed man's thraw.' + +"The 'crowing of the wild Red Cock' means that the castle shall be burned +down, of course (I'm beginning to know his style by this time), and the +lady is to elope, and the laird--that's Lord Perilous--is to expire in +the 'deed man's thraw': that is the name the old people give the Secret +Room. And all this is to happen when a Mackenzie, a member of a clan +with which we are at feud, sleeps in the Haunted Chamber--where we are +just now. By the way, what is _your_ name?" + +I don't know what made me reply, "Allan Mackenzie." It was true, but it +was not politic. + +"By Jove!" said the spectre, eagerly. "Here's a chance! I don't suppose +a Mackenzie has slept here for those hundred years. And now, how is it +to be done? Setting fire to the castle is simple"--here I remembered how +he had lighted my cigarette--"but who on earth is to elope with Lady +Perilous? She's fifty if she's a day, and evangelical a tout casser! Oh +no; the thing is out of the question. It really must be put off for +another generation or two. There is no hurry." + +I felt a good deal relieved. He was clearly a being of extraordinary +powers, and might, for anything I knew, have made _me_ run away with Lady +Perilous. And then, when the pangs of remorse began to tell on her +ladyship, never a very lively woman at the best of times--However, the +spectre seemed to have thought better of it. + +"Don't you think it is rather hard on a family," I asked, "to have a +family genius, and prophecies, and a curse, and--" + +"And everything handsome about them," he interrupted me by exclaiming; +"and you call yourself a Mackenzie of Megasky! What has become of family +pride? Why, you yourselves have Gruagach of the Red Hand in the hall, +and he, I can tell you, is a very different sort of spectre from _me_. +Pre-Christian, you know--one of the oldest ghosts in Ross-shire. But as +to 'hard on a family,' why, noblesse oblige." + +"Considering that you are the family genius, you don't seem to have +brought them much luck," I put in, for the house of Perilous is neither +rich in gold nor very distinguished in history. + +"Yes, but just think what they would have been without a family genius, +if they are what they are with one! Besides, the prophecies are really +responsible," he added, with the air of one who says, "I have a +partner--Mr. Jorkins." + +"Do you mind telling me one thing?" I asked eagerly. "What is the +mystery of the Secret Chamber--I mean the room whither the heir is taken +when he comes of age, and he never smiles again, nor touches a card +except at baccarat?" + +"Never smiles _again_!" said the spectre. "Doesn't he? Are you quite +certain that he ever smiled _before_?" + +This was a new way of looking at the question, and rather disconcerted +me. + +"I did not know the Master of Perilous before he came of age," said I; +"but I have been here for a week, and watched him and Lord Perilous, and +I never observed a smile wander over their lips. And yet little +Tompkins" (he was the chief social buffoon of the hour) "has been in +great force, and I may say that I myself have occasionally provoked a +grin from the good-natured." + +"That's just it," said the spectre. "The Perilouses have no sense of +humour--never had. I am entirely destitute of it myself. Even in +Scotland, even _here_, this family failing has been remarked--been the +subject, I may say, of unfavourable comment. The Perilous of the period +lost his head because he did not see the point of a conundrum of +Macbeth's. We felt, some time in the fifteenth century, that this +peculiarity needed to be honourably accounted for, and the family +developed that story of the Secret Chamber, and the Horror in the house. +There is nothing in the chamber whatever,--neither a family idiot aged +three hundred years, nor a skeleton, nor the devil, nor a wizard, nor +missing title-deeds. The affair is a mere formality to account +creditably for the fact that we never see anything to laugh at--never see +the joke. Some people can't see ghosts, you know" (lucky people! thought +I), "and some can't see jokes." + +"This is very disappointing," I said. + +"I can't help it," said the spectre; "the truth often is. Did you ever +hear the explanation of the haunted house in Berkeley Square?" + +"Yes," said I. "The bell was heard to ring thrice with terrific +vehemence, and on rushing to the fatal scene they found him beautiful in +death." + +"Fudge!" replied the spectre. "The lease and furniture were left to an +old lady, who was not to underlet the house nor sell the things. She had +a house of her own in Albemarle Street which she preferred, and so the +house in Berkeley Square was never let till the lease expired. That's +the whole affair. The house was empty, and political economists could +conceive no reason for the waste of rent except that it was haunted. The +rest was all Miss Broughton's imagination, in 'Tales for Christmas Eve.'" + +He had evidently got on his hobby, and was beginning to be rather +tedious. The contempt which a genuine old family ghost has for mere +parvenus and impostors is not to be expressed in mere words apparently, +for Mauth-hounds of prodigious size and blackness, with white birds, and +other disastrous omens, now began to display themselves profusely in the +Haunted Chamber. Accustomed as I had become to regard all these +appearances as mere automatic symptoms, I confess that I heard with +pleasure the crow of a distant cock. + +"You have enabled me to pass a most instructive evening, most agreeable, +too, I am sure," I remarked to the spectre, "but you will pardon me for +observing that the first cock has gone. Don't let me make you too late +for any appointment you may have about this time--anywhere." + +"Oh, you still believe in that old superstition about cock-crow, do you?" +he sneered. "'I thought you had been too well educated. 'It faded on +the crowing of the cock,' did it, indeed, and that in Denmark too,--almost +within the Arctic Circle! Why, in those high latitudes, and in summer, a +ghost would not have an hour to himself on these principles. Don't you +remember the cock Lord Dufferin took North with him, which crowed at +sunrise, and ended by crowing without intermission and going mad, when +the sun did not set at all? You must observe that any rule of that sort +about cock-crow would lead to shocking irregularities, and to an early- +closing movement for spectres in summer, which would be ruinous to +business--simply ruinous--and, in these days of competition, +intolerable." + +This was awful, for I could see no way of getting rid of him. He might +stay to breakfast, or anything. + +"By the way," he asked, "who does the Cock at the Lyceum just now? It is +a small but very exacting part--'Act I. scene I. Cock crows.'" + +"I believe Mr. Irving has engaged a real fowl, to crow at the right +moment behind the scenes," I said. "He is always very particular about +these details. Quite right too. 'The Cock, by kind permission of the +Aylesbury Dairy Company,' is on the bills. They have no Cock at the +Francais; Mounet Sully would not hear of it." + +I knew nothing about it, but if this detestable spectre was going to +launch out concerning art and the drama there would be no sleep for me. + +"Then the glow-worm," he said--"have they a real glow-worm for the +Ghost's 'business' (Act I. scene 5) when he says?-- + + "'Fare thee well at once, + The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, + And 'gins to pale his ineffectual fire.' + +Did it ever strike you how inconsistent that is? Clearly the ghost +appeared in winter; don't you remember how they keep complaining of the +weather? + + "'For this relief much thanks; 'tis bitter cold,' + +and + + "'The air bites shrewdly: it is very cold.'" + +"Horatio blows on his hands to warm them, at the Francais," I +interrupted. + +"Quite right; good business," said he; "and yet they go on about the glow- +worms in the neighbourhood! Most incongruous. How does Furnivall take +it? An interpolation by Middleton?" + +I don't like to be rude, but I admit that I hate being bothered about +Shakespeare, and I yawned. + +"Good night," he said snappishly, and was gone. + +Presently I heard him again, just as I was dropping into a doze. + +"You won't think, in the morning, that this was all a dream, will you? +Can I do anything to impress it on your memory? Suppose I shrivel your +left wrist with a touch of my hand? Or shall I leave 'a sable score of +fingers four' burned on the table? Something of that sort is usually +done." + +"Oh, _pray_ don't take the trouble," I said. "I'm sure Lady Perilous +would not like to have the table injured, and she might not altogether +believe my explanation. As for myself, I'll be content with your word +for it that you were really here. Can I bury your bones for you, or +anything? Very well, as you _must_ be off, good night!" + +"No, thanks," he replied. "By the way, I've had an idea about my +apparitions in disguise. Perhaps it is my 'Unconscious Self' that does +them. You have read about the 'Unconscious Self' in the Spectator?" + +Then he really went. + +A nun in grey, who moaned and wrung her hands, remained in the room for a +short time, but was obviously quite automatic. + +I slept till the hot water was brought in the morning. + + + + +THE GREAT GLADSTONE MYTH. {283} + + +In the post-Christian myths of the Teutonic race settled in England, no +figure appears more frequently and more mysteriously than that of +Gladstone or Mista Gladstone. To unravel the true germinal conception of +Gladstone, and to assign to all the later accretions of myth their +provenance and epoch, are the problems attempted in this chapter. It is +almost needless (when we consider the perversity of men and the lasting +nature of prejudice) to remark that some still see in Gladstone a shadowy +historical figure. Just as our glorious mythical Bismarck has been +falsely interpreted as the shadowy traditional Arminius (the Arminius of +Tacitus, not of Leo Adolescens), projected on the mists of the Brocken, +so Gladstone has been recognized as a human hero of the Fourth Dynasty. +In this capacity he has been identified with Gordon (probably the north +wind), with Spurgeon, {284} whom I have elsewhere shown to be a river +god, and with Livingstone. In the last case the identity of the suffix +"stone," and the resemblance of the ideas of "joy" and of "vitality," +lend some air of speciousness to a fundamental error. Livingstone is +ohne zweifel, a mythical form of the midnight sun, now fabled to wander +in the "Dark Continent," as Bishop of Natal, the land of the sun's +birthplace, now alluded to as lost in the cloud-land of comparative +mythology. Of all these cobwebs spun by the spiders of sciolism, the +Euhemeristic or Spencerian view--that Gladstone is an historical +personage--has attracted most attention. Unluckily for its advocates, +the whole contemporary documents of the Victorian Dynasty have perished. +When an over-educated and over-rated populace, headed by two mythical +figures, Wat Tyler and one Jo, {285a} rose in fury against the School +Boards and the Department, they left nothing but tattered fragments of +the literature of the time. Consequently we are forced to reconstruct +the Gladstonian myth by the comparative method--that is, by comparing the +relics of old Ritual treatises, hymns, imprecations, and similar +religious texts, with works of art, altars, and statues, and with popular +traditions and folklore. The results, again, are examined in the light +of the Vedas, the Egyptian monuments, and generally of everything that, +to the unscientific eye, seems most turbidly obscure in itself, and most +hopelessly remote from the subject in hand. The aid of Philology will +not be rejected because Longus, or Longinus, has {285b} meanly argued +that her services must be accepted with cautious diffidence. On the +contrary, Philology is the only real key to the labyrinths of +post-Christian myth. + +The philological analysis of the name of Gladstone is attempted, with +very various results, by Roth, Kuhn, Schwartz, and other contemporary +descendants of the old scholars. Roth finds in "Glad" the Scotch word +"gled," a hawk or falcon. He then adduces the examples of the +Hawk-Indra, from the Rig Veda, and of the Hawk-headed Osiris, both of +them indubitably personifications of the sun. On the other hand, Kuhn, +with Schwartz, fixes his attention on the suffix "stone," and quotes, +from a fragment attributed to Shakespeare, "the all-dreaded +thunder-stone." Schwartz and Kuhn conclude, in harmony with their +general system, that Gladstone is really and primarily the thunderbolt, +and secondarily the spirit of the tempest. They quote an isolated line +from an early lay about the "Pilot who weathered the storm," which they +apply to Gladstone in his human or political aspect, when the +storm-spirit had been anthropomorphised, and was regarded as an ancestral +politician. But such scanty folklore as we possess assures us that the +storm, on the other hand, weathered Gladstone; and that the poem quoted +refers to quite another person, also named William, and probably +identical with William Tell--that is, with the sun, which of course +brings us back to Roth's view of the hawk, or solar Gladstone, though +this argument in his own favour has been neglected by the learned +mythologist. He might also, if he cared, adduce the solar stone of +Delphi, fabled to have been swallowed by Cronus. Kuhn, indeed, lends an +involuntary assent to this conclusion (Ueber Entwick. der Myth.) when he +asserts that the stone swallowed by Cronus was the setting sun. Thus we +have only to combine our information to see how correct is the view of +Roth, and how much to be preferred to that of Schwartz and Kuhn. +Gladstone, philologically considered, is the "hawkstone," combining with +the attributes of the Hawk-Indra and Hawk-Osiris those of the Delphian +sun-stone, which we also find in the Egyptian Ritual for the Dead. {287} +The ludicrous theory that Gladstone is a territorial surname, derived +from some place ("Gledstane" Falkenstein), can only be broached by men +ignorant of even the grammar of science; dabblers who mark with a pencil +the pages of travellers and missionaries. We conclude, then, that +Gladstone is, primarily, the hawk-sun, or sun-hawk. + +From philology we turn to the examination of literary fragments, which +will necessarily establish our already secured position (that Gladstone +is the sun), or so much the worse for the fragments. These have reached +us in the shape of burned and torn scraps of paper, covered with printed +texts, which resolve themselves into hymns, and imprecations or curses. +It appears to have been the custom of the worshippers of Gladstone to +salute his rising, at each dawn, with printed outcries of adoration and +delight, resembling in character the Osirian hymns. These are sometimes +couched in rhythmical language, as when we read-- + + "[Gla] dstone, the pillar of the People's hopes,"-- + +to be compared with a very old text, referring obscurely to "the People's +William," and "a popular Bill," doubtless one and the same thing, as has +often been remarked. Among the epithets of Gladstone which occur in the +hymns, we find "versatile," "accomplished," "philanthropic," "patriotic," +"statesmanlike," "subtle," "eloquent," "illustrious," "persuasive," +"brilliant," "clear," "unambiguous," "resolute." All of those are +obviously intelligible only when applied to the sun. At the same time we +note a fragmentary curse of the greatest importance, in which Gladstone +is declared to be the beloved object of "the Divine Figure from the +North," or "the Great White Czar." This puzzled the learned, till a +fragment of a mythological disquisition was recently unearthed. In this +text it was stated, on the authority of Brinton, that "the Great White +Hare" worshipped by the Red Indians was really, when correctly +understood, the Dawn. It is needless to observe (when one is addressing +students) that "Great White Hare" (in Algonkin, Manibozho) becomes Great +White Czar in Victorian English. Thus the Divine Figure from the North, +or White Czar, with whom Gladstone is mythically associated, turns out to +be the Great White Hare, or Dawn Hero, of the Algonkins. The sun +(Gladstone) may naturally and reasonably be spoken of in mythical +language as the "Friend of the Dawn." This proverbial expression came to +be misunderstood, and we hear of a Liberal statesman, Gladstone, and of +his affection for a Russian despot. The case is analogous to Apollo's +fabled love for Daphne = Dahana, the Dawn. While fragments of laudatory +hymns are common enough, it must not be forgotten that dirges or curses +(Dirae) are also discovered in the excavations. These Dirae were put +forth both morning and evening, and it is interesting to note that the +imprecations vented at sunset ("evening papers," in the old mythical +language) are even more severe and unsparing than those uttered ("morning +papers") at dawn. + +How are the imprecations to be explained? The explanation is not +difficult, nothing _is_ difficult--to a comparative mythologist. +Gladstone is the sun, the enemy of Darkness. But Darkness has her +worshippers as well as Light. Set, no less than Osiris, was adored in +the hymns of Egypt, perhaps by kings of an invading Semitic tribe. Now +there can be no doubt that the enemies of Gladstone, the Rishis, or hymn- +writers who execrated him, were regarded by his worshippers as a darkened +class, foes of enlightenment. They are spoken of as "the stupid party," +as "obscurantist," and so forth, with the usual amenity of theological +controversy. It would be painful, and is unnecessary, to quote from the +curses, whether matins or vespers, of the children of night. Their +language is terribly severe, and, doubtless, was regarded as blasphemy by +the sun-worshippers. Gladstone is said to have "no conscience," "no +sense of honour," to be so fugitive and evasive in character, that one +might almost think the moon, rather than the sun, was the topic under +discussion. But, as Roth points out, this is easily explained when we +remember the vicissitudes of English weather, and the infrequent +appearances of the sun in that climate. By the curses, uttered as they +were in the morning, when night has yielded to the star of day, and at +evening, when day is, in turn, vanquished by night, our theory of the sun +Gladstone is confirmed beyond reach of cavil; indeed, the solar theory is +no longer a theory, but a generally recognized fact. + +Evidence, which is bound to be confirmatory, reaches us from an altar and +from works of art. The one altar of Gladstone is by some explained as +the pedestal of his statue, while the anthropological sciolists regard it +simply as a milestone! In speaking to archaeologists it is hardly +necessary even to touch on this preposterous fallacy, sufficiently +confuted by the monument itself. + +On the road into western England, between the old sites of Bristol and +London, excavations recently laid bare the very interesting monument +figured here. + +[Sketch of monument: image1.jpg] + +Though some letters or hieroglyphs are defaced, there can be no doubt +that the inscription is correctly read G. O. M. The explanation which I +have proposed (Zeitschrift fur Ang. Ant) is universally accepted by +scholars. I read Gladstonio Optimo Maximo, "To Gladstone, Best and +Greatest," a form of adoration, or adulation, which survived in England +(like municipal institutions, the game laws, and trial by jury) from the +date of the Roman occupation. It is a plausible conjecture that +Gladstone stepped into the shoes of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Hence we +may regard him (like Osiris) as the sum of the monotheistic conception in +England. + +This interpretation is so manifest, that, could science sneer, we might +laugh at the hazardous conjectures of smatterers. They, as usual, are +greatly divided among themselves. The Spencerian or Euhemeristic +school,--if that can be called a school + + "Where blind and naked Ignorance + Delivers brawling judgments all day long + On all things, unashamed,"-- + +protests that the monument is a pedestal of a lost image of Gladstone. +The inscription (G. O. M.) is read "Grand Old Man," and it is actually +hinted that this was the petit nom, or endearing title, of a real +historical politician. Weak as we may think such reasonings, we must +regard them as, at least, less unscholarly than the hypothesis that the +inscription should be read + + "90 M." + +meaning "ninety miles from London." It is true that the site whence the +monument was excavated is at a distance of ninety miles from the ruins of +London, but that is a mere coincidence, on which it were childish to +insist. Scholars know at what rate such accidents should be estimated, +and value at its proper price one clear interpretation like G. O. M.= +Gladstonio Optimo Maximo. + +It is, of course, no argument against this view that the authors of the +Dirae regard Gladstone as a _maleficent_ being. How could they do +otherwise? They were the scribes of the opposed religion. Diodorus +tells us about an Ethiopian sect which detested the Sun. A parallel, as +usual, is found in Egypt, where Set, or Typhon, is commonly regarded as a +maleficent spirit, the enemy of Osiris, the midnight sun. None the less +it is certain that under some dynasties Set himself was adored--the deity +of one creed is the Satan of its opponents. A curious coincidence seems +to show (as Bergaigne thinks) that Indra, the chief Indo-Aryan deity, was +occasionally confounded with Vrittra, who is usually his antagonist. The +myths of Egypt, as reported by Plutarch, say that Set, or Typhon, forced +his way out of his mother's side, thereby showing his natural malevolence +even in the moment of his birth. The myths of the extinct Algonkins of +the American continent repeat absolutely the same tale about Malsumis, +the brother and foe of their divine hero, Glooskap. Now the Rig Veda +(iv. 18, 1-3) attributes this act to Indra, and we may infer that Indra +had been the Typhon, or Set, or Glooskap, of some Aryan kindred, before +he became the chief and beneficent god of the Kusika stock of +Indo-Aryans. The evil myth clung to the good god. By a similar process +we may readily account for the imprecations, and for the many profane and +blasphemous legends, in which Gladstone is represented as oblique, +mysterious, and equivocal. (Compare Apollo Loxias.) The same class of +ideas occurs in the myths about Gladstone "in Opposition" (as the old +mythical language runs), that is, about the too ardent sun of summer. +When "in Opposition" he is said to have found himself in a condition "of +more freedom and less responsibility," and to "have made it hot for his +enemies," expressions transparently mythical. If more evidence were +wanted, it would be found in the myth which represents Gladstone as the +opponent of Huxley. As every philologist knows, Huxley, by Grimm's law, +is Huskley, the hero of a "husk myth" (as Ralston styles it), a brilliant +being enveloped in a husk, probably the night or the thunder-cloud. The +dispute between Gladstone and Huskley as to what occurred at the Creation +is a repetition of the same dispute between Wainamoinen and Joukahainen, +in the Kalewala of the Finns. Released from his husk, the opponent +becomes Beaconsfield = the field of light, or radiant sky. + +In works of art, Gladstone is represented as armed with an axe. This, of +course, is probably a survival from the effigies of Zeus Labrandeus, den +Man auf Munsen mit der streitaxt erblickt (Preller, i. 112). We hear of +axes being offered to Gladstone by his worshippers. Nor was the old +custom of clothing the image of the god (as in the sixth book of the +"Iliad") neglected. We read that the people of a Scotch manufacturing +town, Galashiels, presented the Midlothian Gladstone (a local hero), with +"trouserings," which the hero graciously accepted. Indeed he was +remarkably unlike Death, as described by AEschylus, "Of all gods, Death +only recks not of gifts." Gladstone, on the other hand, was the centre +of a lavish system of sacrifice--loaves of bread, axes, velocipedes, +books, in vast and overwhelming numbers, were all dedicated at his +shrine. Hence some have identified him with Irving, also a deity +propitiated (as we read in Josephus Hatton) by votive offerings. In a +later chapter I show that Irving is really one of the Asvins of Vedic +mythology, "the Great Twin Brethren," or, in mythic language, "the +Corsican Brothers" (compare Myriantheus on the Asvins). His inseparable +companion is Wilson-Barrett. + +Among animals the cow is sacred to Gladstone; and, in works of art, gems +and vases (or "jam-pots"), he is represented with the cow at his feet, +like the mouse of Horus, of Apollo Smintheus, and of the Japanese God of +Plenty (see an ivory in the Henley Collection). How are we to explain +the companionship of the cow? At other times the Sun-hero sits between +the horns of the Cow-Goddess Dilemma, worshipped at Westminster. (Compare +Brugsch, "Religion und Mythologie der alten Aegypter," p. 168, "Die +Darstellungen Zeigen uns den Sonnengott zwischen den Hornern der Kuh +sitzend.") The idea of Le Page Renouf, and of Pierret and De Rouge, is +that the cow is a symbol of some Gladstonian attribute, perhaps +"squeezability," a quality attributed to the hero by certain Irish +minstrels. I regard it as more probable that the cow is (as in the Veda) +the rain-cloud, released from prison by Gladstone, as by Indra. At the +same time the cow, in the Veda, stands for Heaven, Earth, Dawn, Night, +Cloud, Rivers, Thunder, Sacrifice, Prayer, and Soma. We thus have a wide +field to choose from, nor is our selection of very much importance, as +any, or all, of these interpretations will be welcomed by Sanskrit +scholars. The followers of McLennan have long ago been purged out of the +land by the edict of Oxford against this sect of mythological heretics. +_They_ would doubtless have maintained that the cow was Gladstone's +totem, or family crest, and that, like other totemists, he was forbidden +to eat beef. + +It is curious that on some old and worn coins we detect a +half-obliterated male figure lurking behind the cow. The inscription may +be read "Jo," or "Io," and appears to indicate Io, the cow-maiden of +Greek myth (see the "Prometheus" of AEschylus). + +Another proof of the mythical character of Gladstone is the number of his +birthplaces. Many cities claimed the honour of being his cradle, exactly +as in the cases of Apollo and Irving. Their claims were allowed by the +Deity. (Compare Callimachus, Hymn to Apollo.) + +In addressing scholars it is needless to refute the Euhemeristic +hypothesis, worthy of the Abbe Banier, that the cow is a real cow, +offered by a real historical Gladstone, or by his companion, Jo, to the +ignorant populace of the rural districts. We have already shown that Jo +is a mythological name. The tendency to identify Gladstone with the cow +(as the dawn with the sun) is a natural and edifying tendency, but the +position must not be accepted without further inquiry. The Sun-god, in +Egyptian myth, is a Bull, but there is a difference, which we must not +overlook, between a bull and a cow. Caution, prudence, a tranquil +balancing of all available evidence, and an absence of preconceived +opinions,--these are the guiding stars of comparative mythology. + + + + +MY FRIEND THE BEACH-COMBER. + + +"Been in some near things in the islands?" said my friend the +beach-comber; "I fancy I _have_." + +The beach-comber then produced a piece of luggage like a small Gladstone +bag, which he habitually carried, and thence he extracted a cigar about +the size of the butt of a light trout-rod. He took a vesuvian out of a +curious brown hollowed nut-shell, mounted in gold (the beach-comber, like +Mycenae in Homer, was polychrysos, rich in gold in all his equipments), +and occupied himself with the task of setting fire to his weed. The +process was a long one, and reminded me of the arts by which the beach- +comber's native friends fire the root of a tree before they attack it +with their stone tomahawks. However, there was no use in trying to hurry +the ancient mariner. He was bound to talk while his cigar lasted, +thereby providing his hearer with plenty of what is called "copy" in the +profession of letters. + +The beach-comber was a big man, loose (in physique only of course), +broad, and black-bearded, his face about the colour of a gun-stock. We +called him by the nickname he bore {304} (he bore it very +good-naturedly), because he had spent the years of his youth among the +countless little islands of the South Seas, especially among those which +lie at "the back of beyond," that is, on the far side of the broad +shoulder of Queensland. In these regions the white man takes his life +and whatever native property he can annex in his hand, caring no more for +the Aborigines' Protection Society than for the Kyrle Company for +diffusing stamped-leather hangings and Moorish lustre plates among the +poor of the East-End. The common beach-comber is usually an outcast from +that civilization of which, in the islands, he is the only pioneer. +Sometimes he deals in rum, sometimes in land, most frequently in "black- +birds"--that is, in coolies, as it is now usual to call slaves. Not, of +course, that all coolies are slaves. My friend the beach-comber treated +his dusky labourers with distinguished consideration, fed them well, +housed them well, taught them the game of cricket, and dismissed them, +when the term of their engagement was up, to their island homes. He was, +in fact, a planter, with a taste for observing wild life in out-of-the- +way places. + +"Yes, I have been in some near things," he went on, when the trunk of his +cigar was fairly ignited. "Do you see these two front teeth?" + +The beach-comber opened wide a cavernous mouth. The late Mr. Macadam, +who invented the system of making roads called by his name, allowed no +stone to be laid on the way which the stone-breaker could not put in his +mouth. The beach-comber could almost have inserted a milestone. + +I did not see "these two front teeth," because, like the Spanish Fleet, +they were not in sight. But I understood my friend to be drawing my +attention to their absence. + +"I see the place where they have been," I answered. + +"Well, _that_ was a near go," said the beach-comber. "I was running for +my life before a pack of screeching naked beggars in the Admiralty +Islands. I had emptied my revolver, and my cartridges, Government ones, +were all in a parcel--a confounded Government parcel--fastened with a +strong brass wire. Where's the good of giving you cartridges, which you +need in a hurry if you need them at all, in a case you can't open without +a special instrument? Well, as I ran, and the spears whizzed round me, I +tore at the wire with my teeth. It gave at last, or my head would now be +decorating a stake outside the chief's pah. But my teeth gave when the +brass cord gave, and I'll never lift a heavy table with them again." + +"But you got out the cartridges?" + +"Oh yes. I shot two of the beggars, and 'purwailed on them to stop,' and +then I came within sight of the boats, and Thompson shouted, and the +others bolted. What a voice that fellow had! It reminded me of that +Greek chap I read about at school; he went and faced the Trojans with +nothing in his hand, and they hooked it when they only heard him roar. +Poor Thompson! "and the beach-comber drank, in silence, to the +illustrious dead. + +"Who shot him?" + +"A scientific kind of poop, a botanizing shaloot that was travelling +around with a tin box on his back, collecting beetles and bird-skins. +Poor Thompson! this was how it happened. He was the strongest fellow I +ever saw; he could tear a whole pack of cards across with his hands. That +man was all muscle. He and I had paddled this botanizing creature across +to an island where some marooned fellow had built a hut, and we kept a +little whisky in a bunk, and used the place sometimes for shooting or +fishing. It was latish one night, the botanist had not come home, I fell +asleep, and left Thompson with the whisky. I was awakened by hearing a +shot, and there lay Thompson, stone-dead, a bullet in his forehead, and +the naturalist with a smoking revolver in his hand, and trembling like an +aspen leaf. It seems he had lost his way, and by the time he got home, +Thompson was mad drunk, and came for him with his fists. If once he hit +you, just in play, it was death, and the stranger knew that. Thompson +had him in a corner, and I am bound to say that shooting was his only +chance. Poor old Thompson!" + +"And what was done to the other man?" + +"Done! why there was no one to do anything, unless I had shot him, or +marooned him. No law runs in these parts. Thompson was the best partner +I ever had; he was with me in that lark with the tabooed pig." + +"What lark?" + +"Oh, I've often spun you the yarn." + +"Never!" + +"Well, it was like this. Thompson and I, and some other chaps, started +in a boat, with provisions, just prospecting about the islands. So we +went in and out among the straits--horrid places, clear water full of +sharks, and nothing but mangroves on every side. One of these sounds is +just like another. Once I was coming home in a coasting steamer, and got +them to set me down on a point that I believed was within half-a-mile of +my place. Well, I was landed, and I began walking homewards, when I +found I was on the wrong track, miles and miles of mangrove swamp, cut up +with a dozen straits of salt water, lay between me and the station. The +first stretch of water I came to, gad! I didn't like it. I kept +prospecting for sharks very close before I swam it, with my clothes on my +head. I was in awful luck all the way, though,--not one of them had a +snap at me." + +"But about the taboo pig? Revenons a nos cochons!" + +"I'm coming to that. Well, we landed at an island we had never been on +before, where there was a village of Coast natives. A crowd of beehive- +shaped huts, you know, the wall about three feet high, and all the rest +roof, wattle, and clay, and moss, built as neat as a bird's-nest outside, +not very sweet inside. So we landed and got out the grub, and marched up +to the village. Not a soul to be seen; not a black in the place. Their +gear was all cleaned out too; there wasn't a net, nor a spear, nor a mat, +nor a bowl (they're great beggars for making pipkins), not a blessed +fetich stone even, in the whole place. You never saw anything so +forsaken. But just in the middle of the row of huts, you might call it a +street if you liked, there lay, as happy as if he was by the fireside +among the children in Galway, a great big fat beast of a hog. Well, we +couldn't make out what had become of the people. Thought we had +frightened them away, only then they'd have taken the hog. Suddenly, out +of some corner, comes a black fellow making signs of peace. He held up +his hands to show he had no weapon in them, and then he held up his feet +ditto." + +"Why on earth did he hold up his feet?" + +"To show he wasn't trailing a spear between his toes; that is a common +dodge of theirs. We made signs to him to come up, and up he came, +speaking a kind of pigeon English. It seems he was an interpreter by +trade, paying a visit to his native village; so we tried to get out of +him what it was all about. Just what we might have expected. A kid had +been born in the village that day." + +"What had the birth of a kid got to do with it?" + +"It's like this, don't you know. Every tribe is divided into Coast +natives and Bush natives. One set lives by the sea, and is comparatively +what you might call civilized. The other set, their cousins, live in the +Bush, and are a good deal more savage. Now, when anything out of the +way, especially anything of a fortunate kind, happens in one division of +the tribe, the other division pops down on them, loots everything it can +lay hands on, maltreats the women, breaks what's too heavy to carry, and +generally plays the very mischief. The birth of a child is _always_ +celebrated in that way." + +"And don't the others resist?" + +"Resist! No! It would be the height of rudeness. Do _you_ resist when +people leave cards at your house, 'with kind inquiries'? It's just like +that; a way they have of showing a friendly interest." + +"But what can be the origin of such an extraordinary custom?" + +"_I_ don't know. Guess it has a kind of civilizing effect, as you'll +see. Resources of civilization get handed on to the Bush tribes, but +that can't be what it was started for. However, recently the tribes have +begun to run cunning, and they hide themselves and all their goods when +they have reason to expect a friendly visit. This was what they had done +the day we landed. But, while we were jawing with the interpreter, we +heard a yell to make your hair stand on end. The Bush tribe came down on +the village all in their war paint,--white clay; an arrangement, as you +say, in black and white. Down they came, rushed into every hut, rushed +out again, found nothing, and an awful rage they were in. They said this +kind of behaviour was most ungentlemanly; why, where was decent feeling? +where was neighbourliness? While they were howling, they spotted the +hog, and made for him in a minute; here was luncheon, anyhow,--pork +chops. So they soon had a fire, set a light to one of the houses in +fact, and heaped up stones; that's how they cook. They cut you up in +bits, wrap them in leaves--" + +"En papillotte?" + +"Just that, and broil you on the hot stones. They cook everything that +way." + +"Are they cannibals?" + +"Oh yes, in war-time. Or criminals they'll eat. I've often heard the +queer yell a native will give, quite a peculiar cry, when he is carrying +a present of cold prisoner of war from one chief to another. He cries +out like that, to show what his errand is, at the border of the village +property." + +"Before entering the Mark?" I said, for I had been reading Sir Henry +Maine. + +"The pah, the beggars about me call it," said the beach-comber; "perhaps +some niggers you've been reading about call it the Mark. I don't know. +But to be done with this pig. The fire was ready, and they were just +going to cut the poor beast's throat with a green-stone knife, when the +interpreter up and told them 'hands off.' 'That's a taboo pig,' says he. +'A black fellow that died six months ago that pig belonged to. When he +was dying, and leaving his property to his friends, he was very sorry to +part with the pig, so he made him taboo; nobody can touch him. To eat +him is death.' + +"Of course this explained why that pig had been left when all the other +live stock and portable property was cleared out. Nobody would touch a +taboo pig, and that pig, I tell you, was tabooed an inch thick. The man +he belonged to had been a Tohunga, and still 'walked,' in the shape of a +lizard. Well, the interpreter, acting most fairly, I must say, explained +all this to the Bush tribe, and we went down to the boat and lunched. +Presently a smell of roast pork came drifting down on the wind. They had +been hungry and mad after their march, and they were cooking the taboo +pig. The interpreter grew as white as a Kaneka can; he knew something +would happen. + +"Presently the Bush fellows came down to the boat, licking their lips. +There hadn't been much more than enough to go round, and they accepted +some of our grub, and took to it kindly. + +"'Let's offer them some rum,' says Thompson; he never cruised without +plenty aboard. 'No, no,' says I; 'tea, give them tea.' But Thompson had +a keg of rum out, and a tin can, and served round some pretty stiff grog. +Now, would you believe it, these poor devils had never tasted spirits +before? Most backward race they were. But they took to the stuff, and +got pretty merry, till one of them tried to move back to the village. He +staggered up and down, and tumbled against rocks, and finally he lay flat +and held on tight. The others, most of them, were no better as soon as +they tried to move. A rare fright they were in! They began praying and +mumbling; praying, of all things, to the soul of the taboo pig! They +thought they were being punished for the awful sin they had committed in +eating him. The interpreter improved the occasion. He told them their +faults pretty roundly. Hadn't he warned them? Didn't they know the pig +was taboo? Did any good ever come of breaking a taboo? The soberer +fellows sneaked off into the bush, the others lay and snoozed till the +Coast tribe came out of hiding, and gave it to them pretty warm with +throwing sticks and the flat side of waddies. I guess the belief in +taboo won't die out of that Bush tribe in a hurry." + +"It was like the companions of Odysseus devouring the oxen of the Sun," I +said. + +"Very likely," replied the beach-comber. "Never heard of the parties. +They're superstitious beggars, these Kanekas. You've heard of buying a +thing 'for a song'? Well, I got my station for a whistle. They believe +that spirits twitter and whistle, and you'll hardly get them to go out at +night, even with a boiled potato in their hands, which they think good +against ghosts, for fear of hearing the bogies. So I just went +whistling, 'Bonny Dundee' at nights all round the location I fancied, and +after a week of that, not a nigger would go near it. They made it over +to me, gratis, with an address on my courage and fortitude. I gave them +some blankets in; and that's how real property used to change hands in +the Pacific." + + + + +Footnotes: + + +{1} From Wandering Sheep, the Bungletonian Missionary Record. + +{6} 1884. Date unknown. Month probably June. + +{23a} The original text of this prophecy is printed at the close of Mr. +Gowles's narrative. + +{23b} It has been suggested to me that some travelled priest or conjurer +of this strange race may have met Europeans, seen hats, spectacles, +steamers, and so forth, and may have written the prophecy as a warning of +the dangers of our civilization. In that case the forgery was very +cunningly managed, as the document had every appearance of great age, and +the alarm of the priest was too natural to have been feigned. + +{25} How terribly these words were afterwards to be interpreted, the +reader will learn in due time. + +{30} I afterwards found it was blue smalt. + +{74} I have never been able to understand Mr. Gowles's infatuation for +this stuck-up creature, who, I am sure, gave herself airs enough, as any +one may see.--MRS. GOWLES. + +{76} This was the name of a native vintage. + +{95} Mr. Gowles was an ardent Liberal, but at the time when he wrote, +the Union Jack had not been denounced by his great leader. We have no +doubt that, at a word from Mr. Gladstone, he would have sung, Home Rule, +Hibernia!--ED. Wandering Sheep. + +{106} From Wandering Sheep. + +{124} From Mr. E. Myers's "Pindar." + +{128} Poor Figgins always called M. Baudelaire "the Master." + +{208} His photograph, thus arrayed, may be purchased at Mentone. + +{256} "Lift" is English for "elevator," or "elevator" is American for +"lift." + +{261} This article was originally written for "Mind," but the author +changed his. The reference is to Kant's Philosophy. + +{265} A similar phenomenon is mentioned in Mr. Howell's learned +treatise, "An Undiscovered Country." + +{283} A chapter from Prof. Boscher's "Post-Christian Mythology." Berlin +and New York, A.D. 3886. + +{284} Both these names are undoubtedly Greek neuter substantives. + +{285a} Lieblein speaks ("Egyptian Religion," 1884, Leipzig,) of "the +mythical name Jo." Already had Continental savants dismissed the belief +in a historical Jo, a leader of the Demos. + +{285b} There seems to be some mistake here. + +{287} "Le pierre sorti du soleil se retrouve au Livre des Souffles." +Lefebure, "Osiris," p. 204. Brugsch, "Shai-n. sinsin," i. 9. + +{304} "Beach-comber" is the local term for the European adventurers and +long-shore loafers who infest the Pacific Archipelagoes. There is a well- +known tale of an English castaway on one of the isles, who was worshipped +as a deity by the ignorant people. At length he made his escape, by +swimming, and was taken aboard a British vessel, whose captain accosted +him roughly. The mariner turned aside and dashed away a tear: "I've been +a god for months, and you call me a (something alliterative) +beach-comber!" he exclaimed, and refused to be comforted. + + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE WRONG PARADISE*** + + +******* This file should be named 13984.txt or 13984.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/9/8/13984 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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