SHEPPARD LEE. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.R. M. Bird. “Let these shine now that never shone before,
And those that always
shone now shine the more.”
The Author’s
Preface--which the reader, if in a hurry, or if it be his practice to read
against time, can omit...Page 5
The birth and family of
Sheppard Lee, with some account of his temper and complexion of mind... 7
The pleasures of having
nothing to do.--Some thoughts on matrimony...12
How to conduct a farm
to the best advantage, and steer clear of the lawyers... 18
The Author finds
himself in trouble.--Some account of his servant, honest James Jumble... 21
Sheppard Lee
experiences his share of the respect that is accorded to “honest poverty.”--His
ingenious and highly original devices to amend his fortune... 26
The Author becomes a
Politician, and seeks for an office.--The result of that project... 30
A description of the
Owl-roost, with Mr. Jumble’s ideas in relation to Captain Kid’s money... Page
32
Sheppard Lee stumbles
upon a happy man, and quarrels with him... 38
Sheppard Lee has an
extraordinary dream, which promises to be more advantageous than any of his
previous ones. 42
In which the reader is
introduced to a personage who may claim his acquaintance hereafter... 47
Sheppard Lee visits the
village, makes a patriotic speech, and leaves the fence... 50
What befell the Author
on his way to the Owl-roost. 55
Sheppard Lee digs for
the buried treasure, and makes a blow with the mattock in the wrong place... 58
In which Sheppard Lee
finds himself in a quandary, which the reader will allow to be the most
wonderful and lamentable ever known to a human being... 60
Sheppard Lee finds
comfort when he least expects it.--The extraordinary close of the
catastrophe... 65
A natural mistake,
which, although it procures the Author a rough reception at his own house, has
yet the good, effect to teach him the propriety of adapting his manners to his
condition 69
Some passages in the
life of John H. Higginson, Esq., the happy sportsman, with a surprising
affliction that befell the Author Page 72
The Author, being in
prison, makes a confidant of a deputy attorney-general.--The inconvenience of
telling a truth which happens to be somewhat incredible... 79
Sheppard Lee is visited
by new friends, released from prison, and carried to his new place of abode...
85
Containing
illustrations of the advantages of dying an unusual death in times of high
political excitement... 90
The true meaning of the
word Podagra... 94
Sheppard Lee’s
introduction to his wife, and his suspicion that all is not gold that
glistens... 100
A comparison between
dunning and scolding, with some thoughts on suicide... 106
Sheppard Lee forms
sundry acquaintances, some of which are genteel... 111
The Author grows weary
of his wife, and mistakes the river Schuylkill for the river Lethe.--The
tragical adventure that befell a young gentleman in that romantic tide, with
its effects upon the destinies of Sheppard Lee... 120
The inconveniences of
being drowned.--The first chapter of the history of I. D. Dawkins, Esq.... Page
127
A conversation betwixt
the Author and his bosom friend, John Tickle, Esq.... 131
In which Sheppard Lee
is prepared for the brilliant destiny that awaits him... 137
In which Sheppard Lee
has an interview with a lady, who tells him a secret... 142
An inventory of a young
gentleman’s effects, with some account of Mr. Sniggles, his landlord... 147
Sheppard Lee hears news
of his uncle, and Mr. Sniggles is brought to his senses... 153
In which Sheppard Lee
is told his history... 157
A conversation with a
tailor.--Sheppard Lee finds himself in a situation truly appalling... 164
The Author receives a
visit from his uncle, Samuel Wilkins, Esq., and is relieved from his
tormentors... 170
Some account of
Sheppard Lee’s country kinsmen Page 174
Containing a morsel of
metaphysics, with a short account of the Author’s experience in good society...
178
Sheppard Lee makes the
acquaintance of his cousin, Miss Pattie Wilkins... 183
A farther account of
Miss Pattie Wilkins... 190
A short chapter,
containing an account of the Author’s cousin, Samuel Wilkins, Jr.... 195
In which Sheppard Lee
visits Mr. Periwinkle Smith and his fair daughter, and is intrusted with a
secret which both astonishes and afflicts him... 198
Containing much
instructive matter in relation to good society, whereby the ambitious reader
can determine what are his prospects of entering it... 204
In which Sheppard Lee
relates the passion he conceived for his fair cousin, and his engagement to
elope with her. 212
In which Sheppard Lee
recounts an engagement of a similar nature which he formed with the fair
Alicia.. 217
The ingenious devices
with which Sheppard Lee prepared the way for his elopement... 226
The guests that
Sheppard Lee invited to his wedding. 233
Containing a dialogue,
or curious conversation with nothing; with a discovery extremely astonishing to
several persons Page 236
In which Sheppard Lee
finds that he has made the fortune of his friends, without having greatly
advantaged his own. 242
A crisis.--Sheppard Lee
is reduced to great extremities, and takes refuge in the house of mourning...
247
What happened in the
dead-chamber.--The dirge of a wealthy parent... 249
The private history of
Abram Skinner, the shaver. 256
Sheppard Lee’s first
hit at money-making... 262
Reflections on
stock-jobbing and other matters.. 269
I have often debated in
my mind whether I should give to the world, or for ever lock up within the
secrecy of my own breast, the history of the adventures which it has been my
lot in life to experience. The importance of any single individual in society,
especially one so isolated as myself, is so little, that it can scarcely be
supposed that the community at large can be affected by his fortunes, either
good or evil, or interested in any way in his fate. Yet it sometimes happens
that circumstances conspire to elevate the humblest person from obscurity, and
to give the whole world an interest in his affairs; and that man may safely
consider himself of some value in his generation, whose history is of a
character to instruct the ignorant and inexperienced. Such a man I
considermyself to be; and the more I reflect upon my past life, the more I am
convinced it contains a lesson which may be studied with profit; while, at the
same time, if I am not greatly mistaken, the lesson will be found neither dry
nor repulsive, but here and there, on the contrary, quite diverting. The
psychologist (I hate big words, but one cannot do without them) and the
metaphysician will discover in my relation some new subjects for reflection;
and so perhaps will the doctor of medicine and the physiologist: but while I
leave these learned gentlemen to discuss what may appear most wonderful in my
revealments, I am most anxious that the common reader may weigh the value of
what is, at least in appearance, more natural, simple, and comprehensible.
It will be perceived
that many of the following adventures are of a truly extraordinary character.
There are some men--and to such my story will seem incredible enough--who pride
themselves on believing nothing that they do not know, and who endeavour, very
absurdly, to restrict the objects of belief to those that admit of personal
cognizance. There are others again who boast the same maxim, but have a more
liberal understanding of the subjects of knowledge, and permit themselves to
believe many things which are susceptible of satisfactory proof, but not of
direct cognition. Now I must declare beforehand, in order to avoid all trouble,
that, from the very nature of the life I have led, consisting of the strangest
transitions andvicissitudes, it is impossible I should have laid up proofs to
satisfy any one of the truth of my relation who is disposed to be incredulous.
If any one should say, “I doubt,” all the answer I could make would be, “Doubt,
and be hanged,”--not, however, meaning any offence to anybody; though it is
natural one should be displeased at having his veracity questioned. I write for
the world at large, which is neither philosophic nor skeptical; and the world
will believe me: otherwise it is a less sensible world than I have all along
supposed it to be.
I was born somewhere
towards the close of the last century,--but, the register-leaf having been torn
from the family Bible, and no one remaining who can give me information on the
point, I am not certain as to the exact year,--in the State of New-Jersey, in
one of the oldest counties that border upon the Delaware river. My father was a
farmer in very good circumstances, respectable in his degree, but perhaps more
famous for the excellent sausages he used to manufacture for the Philadelphia
market, than for any quality of mind or body that can distinguish one man from
his fellows.Taking the hint from his success in this article of produce, he
gradually converted his whole estate into a market-farm, raising fine fruits
and vegetables, and such other articles as are most in demand in a city; in which
enterprise he succeeded beyond his highest expectations, and bade fair to be,
as in the end he became, a rich man. The only obstacle to a speedy accumulation
of riches was a disproportionate increase in the agents of consumption,--his
children multiplying on his hands almost as fast as his acres, until he could
count eleven in all; a number that filled him at one time with consternation.
He used to declare no apple could be expected to ripen on a farm where there
were eleven children; and as for watermelons and sugar-corn, it was folly to
think of raising them longer. But fate sent my father relief sooner and more
effectually than he either expected or desired: nine of the eleven being
removed by death in a space of time short of six years. Three (two of whom were
twin sisters) were translated in the natural way, falling victims to an
epidemic, and were buried in the same grave. A fourth was soon after killed by
falling out of an apple-tree. My eldest brother, then a boy of fourteen years
old, upon some freak, ran away from home (for he was of a wild, madcap turn),
and, getting into an oyster-boat, made a voyage into the bay, where he was
lost; for, having fallen overboard, and not being able to swim, a clumsy
fellow, who thought to save him in that way, clutched him round theneck with a
pair of oyster-tongs, and thereby strangled him. Two others were drowned in a
millpond, where they were scraping for snapping-turtles. Another, who was the
wag of the family, was killed by attempting to ride a pig, which, running in
great alarm through a broken fence into the orchard, dashed his brains out
against a whiteoak rail; and the ninth died of a sort of hysterical affection,
caused by this unlucky exploit of his brother; for he could not cease laughing
at it, notwithstanding its melancholy termination, and he died of the fit
within twenty-four hours.
Thus, in a few years,
there remained but two of all the eleven children,--to wit, my oldest sister
Prudence and myself. My mother (from whom I had my Christian name Sheppard,
that being her maiden name) died several years before this last catastrophe,
her mind having been affected, and indeed distracted, by so many mournful
losses occurring in such rapid succession. She fell into a deep melancholy, and
died insane.
Being one of the
youngest children, I grieved but little for the loss of my brothers and
sisters; nor was I able to appreciate the advantage which, in a worldly point
of view, their death must prove to me. My father, however, perceived the
difference; for, having now so few to look after and be chargeable to him, he
could with great propriety consider himself a rich man. He immediately
resolved, as I was now his only son, that I should have a good education; and
it was not hisfault if, in this particular, I fell short of his expectations. I
was sent to good schools, and, in course of time, was removed to the college at
Nassau Hall, in Princeton, where I remained during three years; that is, until
my father’s decease; when I yielded to the natural indolence of my temper, and
left the college, or rather (for I had formed no resolution on the subject)
procrastinated my return from day to day, until it was too late to return.
My natural disposition
was placid and easy,--I believe I may say sluggish. I was not wanting in parts,
but had as little energy or activity of mind as ever fell to the share of a
Jerseyman; and how my father ever came to believe I should make a figure in the
world, I cannot conceive, unless it was because he knew he had a fortune to
leave me, and saw me safely lodged in a college. It is very certain he
encouraged a strong belief that I should one day be a great man; and, I fancy,
it was for this reason he showed himself so favourable to me in his will. He
left me the bulk of his property, bestowing upon my sister, who had recently
married, little beyond a farm which he had purchased in a neighbouring county,
but which was a valuable one, and quite satisfied her husband.
But my father was a
better judge of sausages than of human character. Besides being deficient, as I
humbly confess, in all those qualities that are necessary to the formation of a
great man, I had not the slightest desire to be one. Ambition wasa passion that
never afflicted my mind; and I was so indifferent to the game of greatness
which was playing around me, that, I seriously declare, there was a President
of the United States elected to office, and turned out again, after having
served his regular term, without my knowing any thing about it. I had not even
the desire, so common to young men who find themselves in possession of a
fortune, to launch out into elegant expenses, to dash about the country with
fine horses, servants, and clothes, and to play the spendthrift in cities. On
the contrary, I no sooner found myself arrived at my majority, which was a few
months after my father’s death, than I sat down very quietly on the farm,
resolved to take the world easily; which I supposed I might easily do. I had
some idea of continuing to conduct the estate, as my father had done before me;
but it was a very vague one; and having made one or two efforts to bear myself
like a man of business, I soon found the effort was too tiresome for one of my
disposition; and I accordingly hired an overseer to manage the property for me.
Having thus shuffled
the cares of business from my shoulders to another’s, my time began to weigh a
little heavily on my hands, and I cast about for some amusement that might
enable me to get rid of it. As there was great abundance of small game, such as
quails, partridges, and rabbits, in the neighbourhood, I resolved to turn
sportman; and, in consequence, I bought me a dog and gun, and began to harry
the country with some spirit. But having the misfortune to shoot my dog the
first day, and, soon after, a very valuable imported cow, belonging to a
neighbour, for which I was obliged to pay him enormous damages, and meeting
besides with but little luck, I grew disgusted with the diversion. My last shot
was soon fired; for, having forgotten the provisions of our game-laws, I killed
a woodcock too early in the summer, for which, on the information of a fellow
who owed me a grudge, I was prosecuted, although it was the only bird I ever
killed in all my life, and soundly fined; and this incensed me so much, that I
resolved to have nothing more to do with an amusement that costso much money,
and threw me into so many difficulties.
I was then at a loss
how to pass my time, until a neighbour, who bred fine horses, persuaded me to
buy a pair of blooded colts, and try my luck on the turf; and this employment,
though rather too full of cares and troubles to suit me exactly, I followed
with no little spirit, and became more proud of my horses than I can well
express, until I came to try them on the race-course, where it was my luck,
what with stakes and betting together, to lose more money in a single day, than
my father had ever made in two years together. I then saw very clearly that
horse-racing was nothing better than gambling, and therefore both disreputable
and demoralizing; for which reason I instantly gave it up, heartily sick of the
losses it had occasioned me.
My overseer, or
steward,--for such he may be considered,--whom I always esteemed a very
sensible fellow, for he was shrewd and energetic, and at least ten years my
senior, then advised me, as I was a young man, with money enough, to travel a
little, and see the world: and accordingly I went to New-York, where I was
robbed of my luggage and money by a villain whose acquaintance I made in the
steamboat, and whom I thought a highly intelligent, gentlemanly personage;
though, as it afterward appeared, he was a professor from Sing-Sing, where he
had been sawing stone for two years, the governor of New-York having
forgivenhim, as is the custom, the five other years for which he was committed
for, I believe, a fraud committed on his own father.
This loss drove me home
again; but being reencouraged by my overseer, I filled my purse and set out a
second time, passing up the Hudson river, with which I was prodigiously
pleased, though not with the Overslaugh, where we stuck fast during six hours.
I then proceeded to Saratoga, where I remained for two weeks, on account of its
being fashionable; but, I declare to Heaven, I was never so tired of any place
in my life. I then went to Niagara, which, in spite of the great noise it made,
I thought the finest place in the world; and there, I think, I should have
continued all summer, had it not been for the crowds of tiresome people that
were eternally coming and going, and the great labour of climbing up and down
the stairs. However, I was so greatly pleased with what I saw, both at Niagara
and along the way, that I should have repeated my travels in after years, as
the most agreeable way of passing time, had it not been for the dangers and
miseries of such enterprises; for, first, the coaches were perpetually falling
over, or sticking in the mud, or jolting over stones, so that one had no
security of life or limb; and, secondly, the accommodations at the inns along
the road were not to my liking, the food being cooked after the primitive
systems of Shem, Ham, and Japheth, and the beds stuck together in the rooms as
if for boys at a boardingschool. It is possible that these things are better
ordered now; but, from what I have since seen and heard, I am of opinion there
is a fine field for cooks, carpenters, and chamber-maids, in the agricultural
regions of America. In those days I loved ease and comfort too well to submit
to such evils as could be avoided; and, accordingly, after a little experience
in the matter, I ceased travelling altogether, the pleasures bearing no sort of
proportion to the discomforts.
My time still weighing
upon my hands, I was possessed with a sudden idea (which my steward, however,
endeavoured to combat), namely, that the tedium of my existence might be
dispelled by matrimony; and I resolved to look around me for a wife. After much
casting about, I fixed my eyes upon a young lady of the village (for I must
inform the reader that my farm was on the skirts of a village, and a very
respectable one too, although there were many lazy people in it), who, I
thought, was well fitted to make me comfortable; and as she did not seem averse
to my first advances, I began to be quite particular, until all the old women
in the country declared it was a match, and all the young fellows of my own
age, as well as all the girls I knew, became extremely witty at my expense.
These things, however, rather encouraged me than otherwise; I believed I was
advancing my happiness by the change I contemplated in my condition; and I was
just on the point of making formal proposals to the younglady, when an accident
set me to considering the enterprise entirely in a new light.
My charmer lived in the
house of a married sister, who had a large family of children,--a pack of the
most ill-bred imps, I verily believe, that were ever gathered together in any
one man’s house; but, for politeness’ sake, during the first weeks of my
courtship, the young sinners were kept out of my way, and, what with cuffing
and feeding with sugarplums, were preserved in some sort of order, so that I
was not annoyed by them. After a while, however, and when matters had proceeded
some length, it was thought unnecessary to treat me longer as a stranger; the
children were suffered to take care of themselves; and the consequence was,
that, in a short time, I found myself in a kind of Pandemonium whenever I
entered the house, with such a whining, and squeaking, and tumbling, and
bawling, and fighting among the young ones, as greatly discomposed my nerves;
and, to make the matter worse, the mother made no difficulty at times, when the
squabbling grew to a height, of taking a switch to one, and boxing the ears of
another, and scolding roundly at a third, to reduce them to order; and all this
in my presence, and under the nose of my charmer.
I began to fancy the
married life could not be altogether so agreeable as I had pictured it to my
imagination; and in this belief I was confirmed by a visit to my sister, who
had three children of her own, all of whom, as I now perceived (for Ihad not
noticed it before, having no particular inducement to make me observant), were
given to squabbling and bawling, just like other children, while my sister did
her share of boxing and scolding. I thought to myself, “What should I do with a
dozen children squeaking all day and night in my house, and a scolding wife
dragooning them into submission?”
The thought
disconcerted me, and the fear of such a consummation greatly chilled the ardour
of my affection; so that the young lady, observing my backwardness, and taking
offence at it, cast her eyes upon another wooer who had made her an offer, and,
to my great satisfaction, married him on the spot.
I was never more
relieved in my life, and I resolved to reflect longer upon the subject before
making advances of that nature a second time. My overseer, who had from the
first (for I made him my confidant) been opposed to the match, on the ground
that I ought to enjoy my liberty, at least until I was thirty, was greatly
rejoiced at the rupture, and swore that I had made a lucky escape; for he had
always thought, in his own mind, that the lady was at bottom, though she
concealed it from me, a Tartar and fire-eater. In this, however, he was
mistaken; for, from all I have heard of her since, she has proved a most
amiable and sweet-tempered woman, and her husband is said to be very happy with
her.
It is not my intention
to dwell longer upon the history of this period of my life, nor to recount in
detail how my easy and indolent temper at last proved the ruin of me. I gave
myself up to laziness, neglecting my affairs to such a degree that they soon became
seriously entangled; and, to make a long story short, I found myself, before I
had completed my twenty-eighth year, reduced from independence, and almost
affluence, to a condition bordering upon actual poverty. My farm, under the
management of Mr. Aikin Jones (for that was my steward’s name), went gradually
to ruin; my orchards rotted away, without being replanted; my meadows were
converted into swamps; my corn-fields filled with gullies; my improvements fell
into decay; and my receipts began to run short of my expenses. Then came
borrowing and mortgaging, and, by-and-by, the sale of this piece of land to
remove the encumbrance upon that; until I suddenly found myself in the
condition of my father when he began the world; that is to say, the master of a
little farm of forty acres,--the centre and nucleus of the fifteen hundred
which he had got possession ofand bequeathed to me, but which had so soon
slipped through my fingers. There was this difference, however, between us; the
land, when my father obtained it, was in good condition; it was now (so well
had it prospered under Jones’s hands) entirely worn out and empoverished, and
not worth a fourth part of its original value.
To add to my chagrin, I
discovered that Mr. Aikin Jones, whom I had treated rather as a friend than
servant, had abused my confidence; in other words, that he was a rogue and
villain, who had taken advantage of my disinclination to business, and my
ignorance, as I believe I must call it, to swindle me out of my property, which
he had the best opportunities to do. Whether he effected his purpose by
employing my own funds or not, I cannot say; but, it is very certain, all the
different mortgages in which I was entangled came, some how or other, by hook
and by crook, into his hands, and he took care to make the best use of them. In
a word, Mr. Jones became a rich man, and I a poor one; and I had the
satisfaction, every day when I took a walk over my forty-acre farm, as the
place was familiarly called, though the true name was Watermelon Hill, to find
myself stopped, which way soever I directed my steps, by the possessions of Mr.
Aikin Jones, my old friend and overseer, whom I often saw roll by in his
carriage, while I was trudging along through the mud.
At the same time that I
met with this heavy misfortune, I had to endure others that were vexatious
enough. My brother-in-law and sister had their suspicions of Mr. Jones, and
often cautioned me against him, though in vain,--not that I had any very
superstitious reliance on the gentleman’s integrity, but because I could not
endure the trouble of examining into his proceedings and accounts, and chose
therefore to believe him honest. This, and my general indolence and
indifference to my affairs, incensed them both to that degree, that my sister
did not scruple to tell me to my face that I had lost all the little sense I
ever possessed; while my brother-in-law took the freedom of saying of me in
public, “that I was wrong in the upper story,”--in other words, that I was mad;
and he had the insolence to hint “that it ran in my blood,--that I had
inherited it from my mother,” she, as I mentioned before, having lost her mind
before her decease. I was so much irritated by these insults on their part,
that I quarrelled with them both, though by no means of a testy or choleric
disposition; and it was many years before we were reconciled. Having therefore
neither friends nor family, I was left to bear my misfortunes alone; which was
a great aggravation of them all.
I have always described
myself as of an easy, contented disposition; and such I was born. But
misfortune produces sad changes in our tempers, as it was soon my lot to
experience. Before, however, I describe the change that took place in mine, it
is fit I should let the reader understand to what condition I was reduced by
the perfidy of Jones, --or, as I should rather say, by my own culpable neglect
of my affairs.
My whole landed
possessions consisted of a farm of forty acres, which I had, after the fashion
of some of my richer neighbours in other states, suffered to fall into the most
wretched condition imaginable. My meadow-lands, being broken in upon by the
river, and neglected, were converted into quagmires, reed-brakes, and cat-tail
patches, the only use of which was to shelter wild-fowl and mire cattle.
However, my live-stock was scanty enough, and the only sufferers were my
neighbours, whose cows easily made their way through my fences, and stuck fast
in the mud at their pleasure. My fields were overgrown here with mullein and
St. John’s-wort, and there with sand-burs andpoke-berries. My orchards were in
an equally miserable condition,--the trees being old, rotten, or worm-eaten,
half of them torn down by the winds, and the remainder fit for nothing but
fire-wood. My barn was almost roofless; and as for a stable, I had so little
occasion for one, that my old negro-man Jim, of whom I shall have more to say
hereafter, or his wife Dinah, or both together, thinking they could do nothing
better with it, helped the winds to tear it to pieces, especially in the
winter, when it formed a very convenient wood-pile. My dwelling-house was also
suffering from decay. It was originally a small frame building; but my father
had added to it one portion after another, until it became spacious; and the
large porches in front and on the rear, gave it quite a genteel, janty air. But
this it could not long keep; the sun and rain gradually drove the white paint
from the exterior, and the damps getting inside, the fine paper-hangings, pied
and spotted, peeled from the walls. The window-frames rotted, and the glasses
left them one after another; and one day in a storm one half the front porch
tumbled down, and the remainder, which I propped up as well as I could, had a
mighty mean and poverty-stricken appearance. The same high wind carried away
one of my chimneys, which, falling on a corner of the roof, crushed that into
the garret, and left one whole gable-end in ruins.
It must not be supposed
that my property presented altogether this wretched appearance at the moment of
my losses. It was ir truth badenough then; but I am now describing it as it
appeared some few years after, when my miseries were accumulated in the greatest
number, and I was just as poor as I could be.
In all this period of
trouble and vexation I had but one friend, if. I dare call him such; though I
should have been glad half the time to be rid of him. This was my negro-man
Jim, or Jim Jumble, as he was called, of whom I spoke before,--an old fellow
that had been a slave of my father, and was left to me in his will. He was a
crabbed, self-willed old fellow, whom I could never manage, but who would have
all things his own way, in spite of me. As I had some scruples of conscience
about holding a slave, and thought him of no value whatever, but, on the
contrary, a great trouble, I resolved to set him free, and accordingly
mentioned my design to him; when, to my surprise, he burst into a passion,
swore he would not be free, and told me flatly I was his master, and I should
take care of him: and the absurd old fool ended by declaring, if I made him a
free man he would have the law of me, “he would, by ge-hosh!”
I never could well
understand the cause of his extreme aversion to being made free; but I suppose,
having got the upper hand of me, and being wise enough to perceive the
difference between living, on the one hand, a lazy life, without any care
whatever, as my slave, and, on the other, labouring hard to obtain a precarious
subsistence as a free man, he was determined to stick by me to the last,whether
I would or not. Some little affection for me, as I had grown up from a boy, as
it were, under his own eye, was perhaps at the bottom of his resolution; but if
there were, it was of a strange quality, as he did nothing but scold and
grumble at me all day long. I remember, in particular, that, when the match I
spoke of before was broken off, and he had heard of it, he came to me in a
great passion, and insolently asked “what I meant by courting a wife, who would
be a good mistress to him, and not marrying her?” and, on my condescending to
explain the reasons of my change of mind, he told me plumply, “I had no more
sense than a nigger; for women was women, and children children; and he was
tired living so long in a house with none but me and Massa Jones for company.”
I suppose it was old
Jim’s despair of my ever marrying, that put him upon taking a wife himself; for
one day, not long after I was reduced to the forty-acre farm, he brought home a
great ugly free negro-woman, named Dinah, whom he installed into the kitchen
without the least ceremony, and without so much as even informing me of his
intention. Having observed her two or three times, and seeing her at last come
bouncing into the dinner-room to wait on me, I asked her who she was, and what
she wanted; to which she answered, “she was Jim’s wife, and Jim had sent her in
to take care of me.”
It was in this way the
old rascal used me. It was in vain to complain; he gave me to understand in his
own language, “He knew what was what, and there was no possuming an old nigger
like him; and if I had made him overseer, instead of Massa Jones, it would have
been all the better for me.”
And, in truth, I
believe it would; for Jim would never have cheated me, except on a small scale;
and if he had done no work himself, it is very certain he would have made
everybody else work; for he was a hard master when he had anybody under him.
I may here observe, and
I will do the old fellow the justice to confess, that I found him exceedingly
useful during all my difficulties. What labour was bestowed upon the farm, was
bestowed almost altogether by him and his wife Dinah. It is true he did just
what he liked, and without consulting me,--planting and harvesting, and even
selling what he raised, as if he were the master and owner of all things, and
laying out what money he obtained by the sales, just as his own wisdom
prompted; and finding I could do nothing better, I even let him have his own
way; and it was perhaps to my advantage that I did.
But I grew poorer and
poorer, notwithstanding: and at that period, which I shall ever be inclined to
consider as the true beginning of my eventful life, I was reduced almost to the
point of despair; for my necessities had compelled me to mortgage the few
miserable acres I had left, and I saw nothing but utter ruin staring me in the
face.
It may be asked, why I
made no efforts to retrieve my fortunes? I answer to that, that I made many,
but was so infatuated that I never once thought of resorting to the most
obvious, rational, and only means; that is to say, of cultivating with industry
my forty acres, as my father had done before me. This idea, so sluggish was my
mind, or so confused by its distresses, never once occurred to me; or if it
did, it presented so many dreary images, and so long a prospect of dull and
disagreeable labour, that I had not the spirit to pursue it. The little toil I
was forced to endure--for my necessities now compelled me at times to work with
my own hands--appeared to me intolerably irksome; and I was glad to attempt any
thing else that seemed to promise me good luck, and did not require positive
labour.
The first plan of
bettering my fortune that I conceived, was to buy some chances in a lottery,
which I thought an easy way of making money; as indeed it is, when a man can
make any. I had my trouble for my pains, with just as many blanks as I had
bought tickets; upon which I began tosee clearly that adventuring in a lottery
was nothing short of gambling, as it really is; and so I quitted it.
I then resolved to
imitate the example of a neighbour, who had made a great sum of money by buying
and selling to advantage stock in a southern gold-mining company; and being
very sanguine of success, I devoted all the money I could scrape together to
the purpose, and that so wisely, that a second instalment being suddenly
demanded, I had nothing left to discharge it with, and no means of raising any;
the consequence of which was, that I was forced to sell at the worst time in
the world, and retired from the concern with just one fifth the sum I had
invested in it. I saw then that I had no talent for speculating, and I began to
have my doubts whether stock-jobbing was not just as clear gambling as
horse-racing and lottery speculation.
I tried some ten or a
dozen other projects with a view to better my condition; but, as I came off
with the same luck from all, I do not think it necessary to mention them. I
will, however, state, as a proof how much my difficulties had changed my mind
on that subject, that one of them was of a matrimonial character. My horror of
squabbling children and scolding wives melted away before the prospect of
sheriffs and executions; and there being a rich widow in the neighbourhood, I
bought me a new coat, and made her a declaration. But it was too late in the
day for me, as I soon discovered; for besides giving me a flat refusal, she
made apoint of revealing the matter to all her acquaintance, who did nothing
but hold me up to ridicule.
I found that my affairs
were falling into a desperate condition; and not knowing what else to do, I
resolved to turn politician, with the hope of getting some office or other that
might afford me a comfortable subsistence.
This was the maddest
project that ever possessed my brain; but it was some time before I came to
that conclusion. But, in truth, from having been the easiest and calmest
tempered man in the world, I was now become the most restless and discontented,
and incapable of judging what was wise and what foolish. I reflected one day,
that of my old school and college mates who were still alive, there was not one
who had not made some advance in the world, while I had done nothing but slip
backwards. It was the same thing with dozens of people whom I remembered as
poor farmers’ boys, with none of the advantages I had possessed, but who had
outstripped me in the road to fortune, some being now rich cultivators, some
wealthy manufacturers and merchants, while two or three had got into the
legislature, and were made much of in the newspapers. One of my old companions
had emigrated to the Mississippi, where he was now a cotton-planter, with a
yearly revenue of twenty or thirty thousand dollars; another had become a great
lawyer in an adjacent state; and a third, whom I always thought a very shallow,
ignorant fellow, and who was as poor as a rat to boot,had turned doctor,
settled down in the village, and, besides getting a great practice, had married
the richest and finest girl in all the county. There was no end to the number
of my old acquaintances who had grown wealthy and distinguished; and the more I
thought of them, the more discontented I became.
My dissatisfaction was
increased by discovering with what little respect I was held among these happy
people. The doctor used to treat me with a jocular sort of familiarity, which I
felt to be insulting; the lawyer, who had eaten many a dinner at my table, when
I was able to invite him, began to make me low bows, instead of shaking hands
with me; and the cotton-planter, who had been my intimate friend at college, coming
to the village on a visit to his relations, stared me fiercely in the face when
I approached him, and with a lordly “hum--ha!” asked me “Who the devil I might
be?” As for the others, they treated me with as little consideration; and I
began to perceive very plainly that I had got into the criminal stage of
poverty, for all men were resolved to punish me. It is no wonder that poverty
is the father of crime, since the poor man sees himself treated on all hands as
a culprit.
I had never before
envied a man for enjoying more consideration in the world than myself: but the
discovery that I was looked upon with contempt filled me with a new subject for
discontent. I envied my richer neighbours not only for being rich,but for being
what they considered themselves, my superiors in standing. I may truly say, I
scarce ever saw, in those days, a man with a good coat on his back, without
having a great desire to beat him. But as I was a peaceable man, my anger never
betrayed me into violence.
My essay in politics
was soon made. I spent a whole week in finding out who were the principal
office-holders, candidates, and busybodies, both in the state and the general
governments; and which were the principal parties; there being so many, that an
honest man might easily make a mistake among them. Being satisfied on these
points, I chose the strongest party, on the principle that the majority must
always be right, and attended the first public meeting that was held, where I
clapped my hands and applauded the speeches with so much spirit, that I was
taken notice of and highly commended by several of the principal leaders. In
truth, I pleased them so well, that they visited me at my house, and encouraged
me to take a more prominent part in the business of politics; and this I did,
for at the next meeting, Igot up and made a speech; but what it was about I
know no more than the man in the moon, otherwise I would inform the reader. My
only recollection of it is, that there was great slashing at the banks and
aristocrats that ground the faces of the poor; for I was on what our opponents
called the hurrah side, and these were the things we talked about. I received
uncommon applause; and, in fact, there was such a shouting and clapping of
hands, that I was obliged to put an end to my discourse sooner than I intended.
But I found myself in
great favour with the party, and being advised by the leaders, who considered I
had a talent that way, to set about converting all I knew in the county who
were not of our party, and they hinting that I should certainly, in case the
county was gained (for our county happened to be a little doubtful at that
time), be appointed to the postoffice in the village, I mounted my old horse
Julius Cesar, and set out with greater zeal than I had ever shown in my life
before. I visited everybody that I knew, and a great many that I did not know;
and, wherever I went, I held arguments, and made speeches, with a degree of
industry that surprised myself, for certainly I was never industrious before.
It is certain, also, that there was never a labourer in the field of politics
that better deserved his reward,-- never a soldier of the party ranks that had
won a better right to a share in the spoils of victory. I do not pretend to
say, indeed, that I converted anybody to our belief; for all seemed to have
made up their minds beforehand; and I never yet knew or heard of a man that
could be argued out of his politics, who had once made up his mind on the
subject. I laboured, however, and that with astonishing zeal; and as I paid my
own expenses, and treated all thirsty souls that seemed approachable in that
way to good liquor, I paid a good round sum, that I could ill spare, for the
privilege of electioneering; and was therefore satisfied that my claim to
office would hold good.
And so it did, as was
universally allowed by all the party; but the conviction of its justice was all
I ever gained in reward of my exertions. The battle was fought and won, the
party was triumphant, and I was just rejoioing in the successful termination of
my hopes, when they were blasted by the sudden appointment of another to the
very office which I considered my own. That other was one of the aforesaid
leaders, who had been foremost in commending my zeal and talents, and in
assuring me that the office should be mine.
I was confounded,
petrified, enraged; the duplicity and perfidy of my new friends filled me with
indignation. It was evident they must all have joined in recommending my rival
to the office; for he was a man of bad character, who must, without such
recommendations, have missed his aim. All therefore had recommended him, and
all had promised their suffrages to me! “The scoundrels!” said I to myself. I
perceived that I hadfallen among thieves; it was clear that no party could be
in the right, which was led by such unprincipled men; there was corruption at
the heart of the whole body; the party consisted of rogues who were gaping
after the loaves and fishes; their honesty was a song--their patriotism a
farce. In a word, I found I had joined the wrong party, and I resolved to go
over to the other, sincerely repenting the delusion that had made me so long
the advocate of wrong and deception.
But fortune willed
otherwise. I had arrived at the crisis of my fate; and before I could put my
purpose into execution, I was suddenly involved in that tissue of adventure,
which, I have no doubt, will be considered the most remarkable that ever befell
a human being.
For five mortal days I
remained at home, chewing the bone of reflection; and a hard bone it was. On
the sixth there came a villanous constable with a--the reader may suppose what.
I struck a bargain with him, and he took his leave, and Julius Cesar also,
saddle, bridle, and all; whereby I escaped an introduction to the nearest
justice of thepeace. The next visit, I had good reason to apprehend, would be
from the sheriff; for, having failed to pay up the interest on the mortgage,
the mortgagee had discoursed, and that in no very mysterious strain, on the
virtues of a writ of Venditioni Exponas, or some other absurd and scoundrelly
invention of the lawyers. I was at my wits’ end, and I wished that I was a dog;
in which case I should have gone mad, and bitten the new post-master and all
his friends.
“Very well,” said I to
myself; “the forty-acre is no longer mine.” I clapped on my hat, and walked
into the open air, resolved to take a look at it before the sheriff came to
convince me it belonged to some other person. As I passed from the door, I
looked up to the broken porch: “May it fall on the head of my successor,” I
said.
It was a summer eve,--a
day in July; but a raw wind blew from the northeast, and the air was as chill
as in November. I buttoned my coat, and as I did so, took a peep at my elbows:
I required no second look to convince me that I was a poor man.
The ruined meadows of
which I have spoken, lie on a little creek that makes in from the Delaware.
Their shape is the worst in the world, being that of a triangle, the longest
leg of which lies on the water. Hence the expense of embanking them is
formidable,--a circumstance for which the muskrats have no consideration. The
apex of the angle is a bog, lying betwixt two low hillocks, orswells of ground,
between which crawls a brook, scarce deep enough to swim a tadpole, though an
ox may hide in the mud at the bottom. It oozes from a turfy ledge or bar, a few
feet higher than the general level of the hollow, which terminates above it in
a circular basin of two acres in area. This circular basin is verdant enough to
the eye, the whole surface being covered by a thick growth of alders,
arrow-wood, water-laurels, and other shrubs that flourish in a swamp, as well
as a bountiful sprinkling of cat-tails on the edges. The soil is a vegetable
jelly; and how any plant of a pound in weight could ever sustain itself on it,
I never was able to comprehend. It is thought to be the nearest road to the
heart of the Chinese empire; to find which, all that is necessary to do is, to
take a plunge into it head foremost, and keep on until you arrive at daylight
among the antipodes.
The whole place has a
solitary and mournful appearance, which is to many made still more dreary and
even sepulchral by the appearance of a little old church, built by the Swedes
many a year ago, but now in ruins, and the graveyard around it, these being but
a short distance off, and on the east side of the hollow. The spot is remote
from my dwelling, and apparently from all others; nevertheless there is a small
farmhouse--it was once mine--on a by-road, not many rods from the old church. A
path, not often trodden, leads from my house to the by-road, and crosses the
hollow by the grassy ledge spoken of before. It is the shortestpath to the
village, and I sometimes pursued it when walking thither.
This lonesome spot had
a very bad name in our neighbourhood, and was considered to be haunted. Its
common name was the Owl-roost, given it in consequence of the vast numbers of
these birds that perched, and I believe nested in the centre of the swamp,
where was a place comparatively dry, or supposed to be so, for I believe no one
ever visited it, and a clump of trees larger than those in other places. Some
called the place Captain Kid’s Hole, after that famous pirate who was supposed
to have buried his money there, as he is supposed to have buried it in a
hundred thousand other dismal spots along the different rivers of America. Old
Jim Jumble was a devout believer in the story, and often tried his luck in
digging for the money, but without success; which he attributed to the
circumstance of his digging in the daytime, whereas midnight was, in his
opinion, the only true time to delve for charmed treasure. But midnight was the
period when the ghosts came down from the old graveyard to squeak about the
swamp; and I never heard of Jim being found in that neighbourhood after
nightfall. The truth is, the owls never hear any one go by after dark without
saluting him with a horrible chorus of hooting and screeching, that will make a
man’s hair rise on his head; and I have been sometimes daunted by them myself.
To this place I
directed my steps; and beingvery melancholy, I sat down at the foot of a
beech-tree that grew near the path. I thought of the owls, and the ghosts, and
of Captain Kid into the bargain, and I marvelled to myself whether there could
be any foundation for the belief that converted such nooks into hiding-places
for his ill-gotten gold. While I thought over the matter, I began to wish the
thing could be true, and that some good spirit might direct me to the spot
where the money lay hid; for, sure enough, no one in the world had greater
necessity for it than I. I conned over the many stories that old Jim had told me
about the matter, as well as all the nonsensical ceremonies that were to be
performed, and the divers ridiculous dangers to be encountered by those who
sought the treasure; all which were mere notions that had entered his absurd
head, but which he had pondered over so often and long, that he believed they
had been told him by others.
The great difficulty,
according to his belief, and a necessary preliminary to all successful
operations, was first to discover exactly the spot where the treasure lay
buried; and, indeed, this seemed to be a very needful preliminary. The
discovery was to be made only by dreaming of the spot three nights in
succession. As to dreaming twice, that was nothing: Jim had twenty times
dreamed two nights together that he had fallen upon the spot; but upon digging
it discovered nothing. Having been so lucky as to dream of a place three
successive nights, then the proper way to secure thetreasure, as he told me,
would be, to select a night when the moon was at the full, and begin digging
precisely at twelve o’clock, saying the Lord’s prayer backwards all the time,
till the money was found. And here lay the danger; a single blunder in the
prayer, and wo betide the devotee! for the devil, who would be standing by all
the time, would that moment pounce upon his soul, and carry it away in a flame
of brimstone.
While I sat pondering
over these matters, and wondering whether I could say the prayer backwards, and
doubting (for, to my shame be it spoken, I had not often, of late years, said
it forward), I heard a gun go off in the meadow; and rising, and walking that
way, I discovered a sportsman who had just shot a woodcock, which his dog
carried to him in his mouth. I knew the gunner at first sight to be a gentleman
of Philadelphia, by the name of Higginson, a brewer, who was reputed to be very
wealthy, and who had several times before visited our neighbourhood, for the
purpose of shooting. I knew little of him except his name, having never spoken
to him. The neighbours usually addressed him as squire, though I knew not for
what reason. He was a man of fortyor forty-five years old, somewhat fat and
portly, but with a rosy, hearty complexion, looking the very personification of
health and content; and, indeed, as I gazed at him, strolling up and down with
his dog and gun, I thought I had never before seen such a picture of happiness.
But the sight only
filled me with gloom and anger. “Here,” said I to myself, “is a man rich and
prosperous, who passes his whole life in an amusement that delights him, goes
whither he likes, does what he will, eats, drinks, and is merry, and the people
call him squire wherever he goes. I wish I were he; for, surely, he is the
happiest man in the world!”
While I pondered thus,
regarding him with admiration and hatred together, a bird rose at his feet, and
he shot it; and the next moment another, which he served in the same way.
I noted the exultation
expressed in his countenance, and I was filled with a sudden fury. I strode up
to him while he was recharging his piece, and as I approached him, he looked up
and gave me a nod of so much complacency and condescension together, that it
rendered me ten times madder than ever.
“Sir,” said I, looking
him full in the face, “before you shoot any more birds here, answer me a
question. Who do you go for--the Administration, or the Opposition?”
This was a very absurd
way of beginning a conversation with a stranger; but I was in such a furyI
scarce knew what I said. He gave me a stare, and then a smile, and nodding his
head good-humouredly, replied,
“Oh! for the
Administration, to be sure!”
“You do, sir!” I
rejoined, shaking my fist at him. “Then, sir, let me tell you, sir, you belong
to a scoundrelly party, and are a scoundrel yourself, sir: and so, sir, walk
off my place, or I’ll prosecute you for a trespass.”
“You insolent
ragamuffin!” said he.
Ragamuffin! Was I sunk
so low that a man trespassing on my own property could call me ragamuffin?
“You poor, miserable
shote!”--
So degraded that I
could be called a pig?
“You half-starved old
sand-field Jersey kill-deer!”--
A Jersey kill-deer!
“You vagabond! You
beggar! You Dicky Dout!”--
I was struck dumb by
the multitude and intensity of his epithets; and before I could recover speech,
he shouldered his gun, snapped his fingers in my face, and whistling to his
dog, walked off the ground. Before he had gone six steps, however, he turned
round, gave me a hard look, and bursting into a laugh, exclaimed, tapping his
forehead as he spoke,--
“Poor fellow! you’re
wrong in your upper story!”
With that he resumed
the path, and crossed over to the old church, where I lost sight of him.
“Wrong in my upper
story!” It was the very phrase which Tom Alderwood, my brother-in-law, had
applied to me, and which had given me such mortal offence that I had never
forgiven him, and had refused to be reconciled, even when, as my difficulties
began to thicken about me, he came to offer me his assistance. “Wrong in my
upper story!” I was so much confounded by the man’s insolence, that I remained
rooted to the spot until he had got out of sight; and then, not knowing what
else to do, I returned home; when I had a visit from old Jim, who entered the
apartment, and not knowing I had sold my horse, cried out, “Massa Sheppard,
want money to shoe Julius Cesar ’morrow morning. Blacksmith swear no trust no
more.”
“Go to the devil, you
old rascal!” said I, in a rage.
“Guess I will,” said
Jim, shaking his head: “follow hard after massa.”
That insinuation, which
struck me as being highly appropriate, was all I got for supper; for it was Jim’s
way, when I offended him of an afternoon, to sneak off, taking Dinah with him,
and thus leave me to shift for myself during the whole night as I could. There
was never a more tyrannical old rascal than Jim Jumble.
I went therefore
supperless to bed; but I dreamed of Captain Kid’s money, and the character of
my dream was quite surprising. I thought that my house had fallen down in a
high wind, as, indeed, it was like enough to do, and that I was sitting on a
broken chair before the ruins, when Squire Higginson made his appearance,
looking, however, like a dead man; for his face was pale, and he was swathed
about with a winding-sheet. Instead of a gun he carried a spade in his hand;
and a great black pig followed at his heels in place of his dog. He came
directly towards me, and looking me full in the face, said, “Sheppard Lee, what
are you doing here?” but I was struck with fear, and could make no reply. With
that, he spoke again, saying, “The sheriff is coming to levy on your property;
get up, therefore, and follow me.” So saying, he began to walk away, whistling
to the pig, which ran at his heels like a dog; and I found myself impelled to
follow him. He took the path to the Owl-roost, and, arriving there, came to a
pause, saying, “Sheppard Lee, you are a poor man, and eaten up with discontent;
but I am your friend, and you shall have all your wishes.” Hethen turned to the
pig, which was rooting under a gum-tree, and blowing his whistle, said, “Black
Pig, show me some game, or I’ll trounce you;” and immediately the pig began to
run about snuffing, and snorting, and coursing like a dog, so that it was
wonderful to behold him. At last the squire, growing impatient, and finding
fault with the animal’s ill success, for he discovered nothing, took a whip
from under his shroud, and fell to beating him; after which the pig hunted more
to his liking; and, having coursed about us for a while, ran up to the
beech-tree, under which I had sat the day before, and began with snout and hoof
to tear up the earth at its roots. “Oho!” said Squire Higginson, “I never knew
Black Pig to deceive me. We shall have fine sport now.” Then, putting the spade
into my hands, he bade me dig, exhorting me to be of good heart, for I was now
to live a new life altogether. But before I struck the spade into the earth he
drew a mark on the ground, to guide me, and the figure was precisely that of a
human grave. Not daunted by this circumstance, for in my dream it appeared
natural enough, I began to dig; and after throwing out the earth to a depth
just equal to the length of the spade, I discovered an iron coffin, the lid of
which was in three pieces, and, not being fastened in any way, was therefore
easily removed. Judge of my transports when, having lifted up the piece in the
middle, I found the whole coffin full of gold and silver, some in the form of
ancient coins, but the most of it in bars and ingots.I would have lifted up the
whole coffin, and carried it away at once, but that was impossible; I therefore
began to fill my pockets, my hat, my handkerchief, and even my bosom; until the
squire bade me cease, telling me I should visit the treasure at the same hour
on the following night. I then replaced the iron cover, and threw the earth
again into the grave, as the squire commanded; and then leaving him, and
running home as hard as I could, in fear lest some one should see me, I fell
into a miry place, where I was weighed down by the mass of gold I had about me,
and smothered. In the midst of my dying agonies I awoke, and found that all was
a dream.
Ah! how much torment a
poor man has dreaming of riches! The dream made me very melancholy; and I went
moping about all that day, wishing myself anybody or any thing but that I was,
and hiding in the woods at the sight of any one who chanced to pass by, for I
thought everybody was the sheriff. I went to bed the following night in great
disorder of spirit, and had no sooner closed my eyes than I dreamed the same
dream over again. The squire made his appearance as before, led me to the
Owl-roost, and set the black pig hunting until the grave was found. In a word,
the dream did not vary in a single particular from that I had had the night
before; and when I woke up the next day, the surprise of such an occurrence
filled me with new and superstitious ideas, and I awaited the next night with
anxious expectations, resolved,if the dream should be repeated again, to go dig
at the place, and see what should come of it.
Remembering what old
Jim had said in regard to the full of the moon, I went to a neighbour’s to look
at his almanack (for I had none of my own), and discovered, to my unspeakable
surprise and agitation, though I had half known it before, that the moon we
then had would be at her full between ten and eleven o’clock on the following
morning.
Such a coincidence
betwixt the time of my dreams and the proper period for hunting the treasure
(since at the full moon was the proper time), was enough of itself to excite my
expectations; and the identity between the two visions was so extraordinary,
that I began to believe that the treasure did really exist in the Owl-roost,
which, being very solitary, and yet conveniently accessible from the river
through the medium of the creek, was one of the best hiding-places in the
world, and that I was the happy man destined to obtain it.
I went to bed
accordingly the third night with a strong persuasion that the vision would be
repeated: I was not disappointed. I found myself again digging at the
beech-roots, and scraping up great wedges of gold and silver from the iron
coffin. What was remarkable in this dream, however, was, that when I had picked
up as much as I could carry, the squire nodded to me, and said, “Now, Sheppard
Lee, you know the way to Captain Kid’s treasure, and you can come to-morrow
night byyourself.” And what was further observable, I did not dream of falling
into a miry place on this occasion, but arrived safely home, and beheld with
surprise and delight that my house, which I had left in ruins, was standing up
more beautiful than ever it had been, newly painted from top to bottom, and the
pillars of the porch were gilded over, and shining like gold.
While enjoying this
agreeable prospect I awoke, and such was the influence of the vision on my
mind, and the certain belief I now cherished that the vast treasure was
mine,--a whole coffinful of gold and silver,--that I fell to shouting and
dancing; so that old Jim Jumble, who ran up into my chamber to see what was the
matter, was persuaded I had gone mad, and began to blubber and scold, and take
on in the most diverting way in the world.
I pacified him as well
as I could, but resolved to keep my secret until I could surprise him with the
sight of my treasure, all collected together in the house; and I proceeded
without delay to make such preparations as were proper for the coming occasion.
I took a spade and mattock, and carried them to the hollow, where I hid them
among the bushes. But this I found difficult to do as secretly as I wished; for
old Jim, either from suspecting what I was after, or believing I had lost my
mind, kept dogging me about; so that it was near midday before I succeeded in
giving him the slip, and carrying my tools to the hollow.
In this place, to my
dismay, I stumbled upon a man, who, from the character he had in the
neighbourhood, I was afraid was hunting the treasure, as well as myself. He was
an old German doctor, called Feuerteufel, which extraordinary name, as I had
been told, signified, in German, Fire-devil. He had come to our village about
two weeks before, and nobody knew for what reason. All day long he wandered
about among the woods, swamps, and marshes, collecting plants and weeds,
stones, animals, and snakes, which he seemed to value very highly. Some thought
he was a counterfeiter in disguise, and others called him a conjurer. Many were
of opinion he was hunting for gold-mines, or precious stones; while others had
their thoughts, and said he was the devil, his appearance being somewhat grim
and forbidding. As for myself, having lighted upon him once or twice in the
woods, I did not know what to think of him; but I did not like his looks. He
was very tall and rawboned, with long arms, and immense big hands; his skin was
extremely dark and pock-marked, and he had a mouth that ran from ear to ear,
and long, bushy, black hair. His eyes were like saucers, and deepsunk in their
sockets, with tremendous big black eyebrows ever frowning above them; and what
made him look remarkable was, that although he was ever frowning with his eyes,
his mouth was as continually grinning in a sort of laugh, such as you see in a
man struck with a palsy in the head. He was the terror of all the children, and
it was said the dogs never barked at him.
I found him in the
hollow, hard by the beech-tree, and had scarce time to fling my implements
among the bushes before he saw me. He was standing looking over towards the old
church, where there was a funeral procession; for that morning the neighbours
were burying a young man that had taken laudanum for love two days before, but
had only expired the previous evening.
As soon as the German
beheld me, he started like a guilty man, and made as if he would have run away;
but suddenly changing his mind, he stepped towards me, and just as we met he
stooped down and pulled a flower that struck his eye. Then rising up, he
grinned at me, and nodding, said, “Gooten morrow, mine prudder; it ish gooten
dag!”--though what he meant by “gooten dag” I know no more than the man in the
moon, having never studied German. I did not at all like his appearance in this
spot at such a time; but I reflected at last that he was only culling simples,
and had paused near the beech-tree to look at the funeral, as would have been
extremely natural in any man. But I liked the appearance of the funeral still
less atsuch a particular time, and I thought there was something ominous in it.
But my mind was fixed
upon the treasure I was soon to enjoy too firmly to be long drawn off by any
such doleful spectacle; and accordingly, having waited impatiently until the
attendants on the funeral had all stalked away, as well as the German doctor, I
stole towards the beech-tree, and surveyed the ground at its roots. There were
some stones lying among them, which I removed, as well as the long grass that
waved over their tops; and looking closely, I thought I could see among some of
the smaller roots of the tree, that were pleached together on the surface of
the earth, a sort of arrangement very much in shape of a grave. This was a new
proof to me that the treasure lay below, and I considered that my good angel
had platted these roots together, in order to direct me in what spot to dig.
I could scarce avoid
beginning on the instant; but, I remembered, that was not the hour. I therefore
concealed my spade and mattock, and went home; when the first thing I did was
to hunt me up a book that had the Lord’s prayer in it (for I feared to trust to
my memory alone), and write this out backwards with the greatest care; and I
then spent the remainder of the day in committing the words to memory in that
order; but I found it a difficult task.
As the evening drew nigh,
I found myself growing into such a pitch of excitement, that, fearing I should
betray the secret to Jim Jumble, who wasconstantly prying in upon me, I
resolved to walk to the village, and there remain until the hour for seeking
the treasure should draw nigh. I had another reason for this step; for my watch
having gone, some month or two before Julius Cesar, to satisfy a hungry fellow
to whom I owed money, I knew not how to be certain of the hour, unless by
learning it of some one in the village; and to the village I accordingly went
soon after sunset.
Having arrived at the
village, I proceeded to a tavern, which was the chief place of resort,
especially after nightfall, for all the idlers and topers of the town, of whom
there were great numbers, the village at that time being a place of but little
business.
I found some ten or a
dozen already assembled in the bar-room, drinking brandy, smoking, chewing,
talking politics, and swearing. I had no sooner entered than some of them, who
were discoursing loudly concerning the purity and economy of the government,
and the honesty of those who supported it, appealed to me (my electioneering
pilgrimage through the country having caused me to be looked upon as quite a
knowing politician) to assist them in the argument they were holding.
Remembering the scurvy
way in which I had been treated by the party, I felt strongly tempted to give
them a piece of my mind on the other side of the question; but I thought of my
buried treasure, and conceiving it unwise to begin the quarrel at that time, I
made them no answer, but sat down in a corner, where I hoped to escape
observation. Here I employed myself conning over the prayer backwards, until I
was assured I was perfect in the exercise.
I then--still keeping
aloof from the company-- gave my mind up to a consideration of what I should do
when I had transferred Captain Kid’s hoards of gold from the coffin to my
house.
The first thing I
resolved to do was to pay my debts, which, how greatly soever they oppressed
me, were not actually very fearful in amount; after which I was determined to
rebuild my house, restore my fields to their original condition, and go to law
with Mr. Aikin Jones, who I had no doubt had cheated me out of my property. It
did not occur to me that, by such a step, I should get rid of my second fortune
as expeditiously as I had the first; all that I thought on was the satisfaction
of having my revenge on the villain, whom I should have punished in perhaps a
more summary way, had it not been for my respect for the laws, and my being
naturally a peaceable man. But I did not think long of Mr. Jones; the idea of
the great wealth I was soon to possess filled my mind,and I gave myself up to
the most transporting reveries.
From these I was roused
by hearing some one near me pronounce the words “Captain Kid’s money”--the idea
that was uppermost in my own mind; and looking round in a kind of perturbation,
I saw a knot of people surrounding Feuerteufel, the German doctor, one of whom
was discoursing on the subject of the treasure in the Owl-roost, and avowing
his belief that he--that is, the German doctor-- was conjuring after it; an
imputation that gained great credit with the company, there being no other way
to account for his visit to our village, and his constant perambulations
through the woods and marshes in the neighbourhood of the Owl-roost.
The German doctor, to
my great relief, replied to this charge by expanding his jaws as if he would
have swallowed the speaker, though he was guilty of nothing beyond a laugh,
which was in depth and quality of tone as if an empty hogshead had indulged in
the same diversion. His voice was indeed prodigiously deep and hollow, and even
his laugh had something in it solemn and lugubrious. “Mine friends,” said he,
in very bad English, “I fos can do men’ creat t’ings; put I can no find no
Captain Kitt’s money not at all. I toes neffer looks for coldt, except in
places fare Gott puts it; t’at iss, in t’a coldt-mines!” With that, he laughed
again, and looking upon the people about him with great contempt, he walked up
stairs to his chamber --for he lodged in the inn.
Soon after this
occurrence, and just when I had sunk again into a revery, a man stepped up to
me, and saluted me in a way well suited to startle me.
“Sir,” said he, “friend
Kill-deer, before you scratch your head any more on this bench, answer me a
question. What do you go for,--brandy-toddy or gin-sling?”
It was Squire Higginson,
and he looked very good-humoured and waggish; but as I had dreamed of him so
often, and always as being in his grave-clothes, I was rather petrified at his
appearance, as if it were that of a spectre, rather than a mortal man. As for
our quarrel in the meadow, it had slipped my mind altogether, until, having
recovered my composure a little, it was recalled to my recollection by the
associations arising out of his words.
But I remembered the
circumstance at last, and being moreover offended by his present freedom, which
was nothing less than sheer impertinence, I told him I desired to have nothing
to say to him; on which he fell into a passion, and told me “I might go to the
devil for a ragamuffin and a turncoat politician.” But, mad as he was, he ended
his speech by bursting into a laugh, and then, tapping his forehead as before,
and nodding his head and winking, he left the bar-room to seek his chamber
--for he put up at the tavern, as well as the German doctor.
These insults threw me
into some ferment, and being irritated still farther by the remarks of the
company, especially when some one asked whatthe squire meant by calling me “a
turncoat politician,” I allowed myself to be thrown into a passion; in the
course of which I gave such of my old friends as were present to know that I
had forsworn their party, and considered it to be composed of a pack of the
corruptest scoundrels in the country.
This unexpected
denunciation produced a great explosion; my old friends fell upon me tooth and
nail, as the saying is, reviling me as a traitor and apostate. But, on the
other hand, those of the opposition who happened to be present ranged
themselves on my side, applauding my honesty, judgment, and spirit to such a
degree, that I was more than ever convinced I had been on the wrong side. I met
reproaches with contempt, and threats with defiance; opposed words to words,
and assertions to assertions (for, in politics, we do not make use of
arguments); and finding myself triumphantly victorious, I mounted into a chair,
and made a speech that was received by my new friends with roars of applause.
Intoxicated with these marks of approbation, I launched at once into a sea of
declamation, in which I might have tossed about during the whole night, had I
not by chance, while balking for a word, rolled my eyes upon the clock that
stood opposite to me in the bar, and perceived that it wanted just a quarter of
an hour to twelve o’clock. In a moment I forgot every thing but the treasure
that awaited me in the Owl-roost; I stopped short in the middle of a sentence,
took one more look at the clock, and then, leaping down from the chair,rushed
from the tavern without saying a word, and, to the amazement of friend and foe,
ran at full speed out of the village; and this gait I continued until I had
reached the old Swedes’ Church; for I had taken the footpath that led in that
direction.
As it was now the full
of the moon, there was of course light enough for my purpose; but the sky was
dappled with clouds very dense and heavy, some of which crossing the moon every
minute or two, there was a constant alternation of light and darkness, so that
the trees and all other objects were constantly changing their appearance, now
starting up in bold relief, white and silvery from the darkness, and now
vanishing again into gloom.
A cloud passed over the
moon just as I reached the old church; and the wall of the burial-ground having
fallen down at a certain place, where the rubbish obstructed the path, it was
my ill luck to break my shin against a fragment; the pain of which caused me to
utter a loud groan. To my amazement and horror, this interjection of suffering
was echoed from the grave-yard hard by, a voice screaming out in awful tones, “O
Lord! O Lord!” and casting my eyes round, I beheld, as I thought,three or four
shapes, that I deemed nothing less than devils incarnate, dancing about among
the tomb-stones.
I was seized with such
terror at this sight, that, forgetting my hurt and the treasure together, I
took to my heels, and did not cease running until I had left the church some
quarter of a mile behind me; and I am not certain I should have come to a halt
then, had it not been my fate to tumble over a cow that lay ruminating on the
path; whereby, besides half breaking my neck, and cruelly scratching my nose, I
stunned myself to that degree, that it was some two or three minutes before I
was able to rise.
I had thus time to
recollect myself, and reflect that I was running away from Captain Kid’s money,
the idea of losing which was not to be tolerated a moment.
But how to get to the
Owl-roost without falling into the hands of the devils or spectres at the old
church, was what gave me infinite concern. The midnight hour--the only one for
attempting the treasure with success--was now close at hand; so that there was
no time left me to reach the place by a roundabout course through the woods to
the right, or over the meadows to the left. I must pass the old church, or I
must perhaps give up the treasure.
There was no time to
deliberate; the figures I had seen, and the cries I had heard, might have been
coinages of my own brain; nay, the latterwere perhaps, after all, only the
echoes of my own voice, distorted into something terrible by my fears. I was
not naturally superstitious, and had never before believed in ghosts. But I
cannot recollect what precise arguments occurred to me at that moment, to cause
me to banish my fears. The hope of making my fortune was doubtless the strongest
of all; and the moon suddenly shining out with the effulgence almost of day, I
became greatly imboldened, and, in a word, set forward again, resolved, if met
by a second apparition, and driven to flight, to fly, not backwards, but
forwards,--that is, in the direction of the Owl-roost.
On this occasion, it
was my fortune to be saluted by an owl that sat on the old wall among some
bushes, and hooted at me as I went by; and notwithstanding that the sound was
extremely familiar to my ears, I was thrown into a panic, and took to my heels
as before; though, as I had resolved, I ran onward, pursuing the path to the
swamp. It is quite possible there may have been a crew of imps and disimbodied
spirits jumping among the graves as before; but, as I had the good fortune to
be frightened before I caught sight of them, I did not stop to look for them;
and, for the same reason, I heard no more awful voices shrieking in my ears. I
reached the Owl-roost and the memorable beech-tree, where the necessity of
acting with all speed helped me to get rid of my terror. I knew that I had not
a moment to spare, and running to the bushes where I had hidden my mattock and
spade, Ifetched them to the tree, and instantly began to dig, not forgetting to
pray backwards all the while, as hard as I could.
I was but an ill hand
at labour, and of the use of the spade and mattock I knew nothing. The nature
of the ground in which I was digging made the task especially difficult and
disagreeable. There were many big stones scattered about in the earth, which
jarred my arms horribly whenever I stuck them; so that (all my efforts to the
contrary notwithstanding) I was, every minute or two, interrupting my prayer
with expressions which were neither wise nor religious, but highly expressive
of my torture of body and mind. And then I was digging among the toughest and
vilest roots in the world, some of which I thought I should never get through;
for I had not remembered to provide myself with an axe, and I was afraid to go
home for one, lest some evil accident or discovery might rob me of the expected
treasure.
Accordingly, I had to
do with a tougher piece of labour than I had ever undertaken before in my whole
life; and I reckon I worked a full hour anda half, before I had got the hole I
was excavating as deep as I supposed would be necessary. I succeeded at last,
however, in throwing out so much earth, that when I measured the depth of the
pit with my spade, I found the handle just on a level with the surface of the
ground.
But I was not so near
the treasure as I supposed; I struck my mattock into the clay, scarce doubting
that I should hear the ring of the iron coffin, Instead of reaching that,
however, I struck a great stone, and with a force that made the mattock-helve
fly out of my hands to my chin, which it saluted with a vigour that set all my
teeth to rattling, knocking me down into the bargain.
Having recovered from
the effects of this blow, I fell to work again, thumping and delving until I
had excavated to the depth of at least five feet. My heart began to fail me, as
well as my strength, as I got so deep into the earth without finding the gold;
for I began to fear lest my dreams had, after all, deceived me. In my agitation
of mind, I handled my tools so blindly, that I succeeded in lodging my mattock,
which was aimed furiously at a root, among the toes of my right foot; and the
pain was so horribly acute, that I leaped howling out of the pit, and sinking
down upon the grass, fell straightway into a trance.
When I awoke from this
trance, it was almost daybreak.
I recovered in some
confusion of mind, and did not for a moment notice that I was moving away from
the place of my disaster; but I perceived there was something strange in my
feelings and sensations. I felt exceedingly light and buoyant, as if a load had
been taken, not merely from my mind, but from my body; it seemed to me as if I
had the power of moving whither I would without exertion, and I fancied that I
swept along without putting my feet to the ground. Nay, I had a notion that I
was passing among shrubs and bushes, without experiencing from them any
hinderance to my progress whatever. I felt no pain in my foot, which I had hit
such a violent blow, and none in my hands, that had been wofully blistered by
my work; nor had I the slightest feeling of weariness or fatigue. On the whole,
my sensations were highly novel and agreeable; but before I had time to analyze
them, or to wonder at the change, I remembered that I was wandering away from
the buried treasure.
I returned to the spot,
but only to be riveted to the earth in astonishment. I saw, stretched on the
grass, just on the verge of the pit, the dead body of a man; but what was my
horror, when, perusing the ashy features in the light of the moon, I perceived
my own countenance! It was no illusion; it was my face, my figure, and dressed
in my clothes; and the whole presented the appearance of perfect death.
The sight was as
bewildering as it was shocking; and the whole state of things was not more
terrifying than inexplicable. There I lay on the ground, stiff and lifeless;
and here I stood on my feet, alive, and surveying my own corpse, stretched
before me. But I forgot my extraordinary duality in my concern for myself--that
is to say, for that part of me, that eidolon, or representative, or duplicate
of me, that was stretched on the grass, I stooped down to raise the figure from
the earth, in an instinctive desire to give myself aid, but in vain; I could
not lift the body; it did not seem to me that I could even touch it,--my
fingers, strive as I might, I could not bring into contact with it.
My condition, or
conditions (for I was no longer of the singular number) at this time, can be
understood only by comparing my confusion of senses and sensations to that
which occurs in a dream, when one beholds himself dead, surveys his body, and
philosophizes or laments, and is, all the time, to all intents and purposes,
without being surprised at it, two persons, one of which lives and
observes,while the other is wholly defunct. Thus I was, or appeared to be,
without bestowing any reflection upon such an extraordinary circumstance, or
being even conscious of it, two persons; in one of which I lived, but forgot my
existence, while trembling at the death that had overcome me in the other. My
true situation I did not yet comprehend, nor even dream of; though it soon
turned out to be natural enough, and I understood it.
I was entirely overcome
with horror at my unfortunate condition; and seeing that I was myself unable to
render myself any assistance, I ran, upon an impulse of instinct, to the
nearest quarter where it was to be obtained. This was at the cottage, or little
farmhouse, which I spoke of before as standing on the by-road, a little beyond
the old church. It was occupied by a man named Turnbuckle, whom I knew very
well, and who was a very industrious, honest man, although a tenant of Mr.
Aikin Jones.
I arrived at his house
in an amazingly short space of time, rather flying, as it seemed to me, through
the air, than running over the marsh and up the rugged hill. It was the gray of
the morning when I reached his house, and the family was just stirring within.
As I ran towards the door, his dogs, of which he had a goodly number, as is
common with poor men, set up a dismal howling, clapped their tails between
their legs, and sneaked off among the bushes; a thing that surprised me much,
for they were usually very savage of temper. I called to Turnbuckle by name,
and that in a voiceso piteous that, in half a minute, he and his eldest son
came tumbling out of the house in the greatest haste and wonder. No sooner,
however, had they cast eyes on me, than they uttered fearful cries; the old man
fell flat on his face, as if in a fit, and the son ran back into the house, as
if frightened out of his senses.
“Help me, Thomas
Turnbuckle,” said I; “I am lying dead under the beech-tree in the hollow: come
along and give me help.”
But the old man only
answered by groaning and crying; and at that moment the door opened, and his
eldest son appeared with a gun, which he fired at me, to my inexpressible
terror.
But if I was frightened
at this, how much more was I horrified when the old man, leaping up at the
discharge, roared out, “O Lord! a ghost! a ghost!” and ran into the house.
I perceived it all in a
moment: the howling of the dogs, which they still kept up from among the
bushes,--the fear of Turnbuckle and his family, all of whom, old and young,
male and female, were now squeaking in the house, as if Old Nick had got among
them,--my being in two places together, and a thousand other circumstances that
now occurred to me, apprized me of the dreadful fact, which I had not before
suspected: I was a dead man!--my body lay in the marsh under the beechtree, and
it was my spirit that was wandering about in search of assistance!
As this terrible idea
flashed across my mind, andI saw that I was a ghost, I was as much frightened
as the Turnbuckles had been, and I took to my heels to fly from myself, until I
recollected myself a little, and thought of the absurdity of such a proceeding.
But even this fatal conception did not remove my anxiety in relation to my poor
body,--ormyself, as I could not help regarding my body; and I ran back to the
beech-tree in a kind of distraction, hoping I might have been revived and
resuscitated in my absence.
I reached the pit, and
stared wildly about me-- my body was gone,--vanished! I looked into the hole I
had excavated; there was nothing in it but the spade and mattock, and my hat,
which had fallen from my head when I leaped out of it, after hurting my foot. I
stared round me again; the print of my body in the grass, where it had lain,
was quite perceptible (for it was now almost broad day), but there was no body
there, and no other vestige excepting one of my shoes, which was torn and
bloody, being the identical one I had worn on the foot hurt by the mattock.
What had become of me?
that is, what had become of my body? Its disappearance threw me into a phrensy;
and I was about to run home, and summon old Jim Jumble to help me look for it,
when I heard a dog yelping and whining in a peculiarly doleful manner, at some
little distance down in the meadow; and I instantly ran in that direction, thinking
that perhaps the bloodthirsty beast might be at that very moment dragging it
away to devour it,--or hoping, at the least, to light upon some one who could
give me an account of it.
I ran to a place in the
edge of the marsh where were some willow-trees, and an old worm fence, the
latter overgrown with briers and elder-bushes; and there, to my exceeding
surprise, I discovered the body of Squire Higginson (for he was stone dead),
lying against the fence, which was broken, his head down, and his heels resting
against the rails, and looking as if, while climbing it, he had fallen down and
broken his neck. His gun was lying at his side, undischarged, and his dog,
whose yelping had brought me to the spot, was standing by; but I must add,
that, as soon as I approached him, the animal betrayed as much terror as
Turnbuckle’s dogs had done, and ran howling away in the same manner.
Greatly incensed as I
had been with Squire Higginson, I felt some concern to see him lying in this
lamentable condition, his face blackened with blood, as if he had perished from
suffocation; and stooping down, I endeavoured to take off his neckcloth and
raise his head, in the hope that he might yet recover. But I reckoned without
my host,--I had forgotten that I was a mere phantom or spirit, possessing no
muscular power whatever, because no muscles; for, even in walking and running,
as I was now aware, I was impelled by some unknown power within me, and not at
all carried by my legs. I could not bring my hand into contact either with his
cravat or head, and for a good reason, seeing there was no substance in me
whatever, but all spirit.
I therefore ceased my
endeavours, and began to moralize, in a mournful mood, upon his condition and
mine. He was dead, and so was I; but there seemed to be this difference between
us, namely, that I had lost my body, and he his soul,--for after looking hard
about me, I could see nothing of it. His body, as it lay there in the bushes,
was perfectly useless to him, and to all the world beside; and my spirit, as
was clear enough, was in a similar predicament. Why might I not, that is to
say, my spirit,--deprived by an unhappy accident of its natural dwelling,--take
possession of a tenement which there remained no spirit to claim, and
thus,uniting interests together, as two feeble factions unite together in the
political world, become a body possessing life, strength, and usefulness?
As soon as this idea
entered my mind (or me, for I was all mind), I was seized with the envy that
possessed me when I first met the squire shooting over my marshes. “How much
better it would be,” I thought, “to inhabit his body than my own! In my own
fleshly casing, I should revive only to poverty and trouble;” (I had forgot all
about Captain Kid’s money) “whereas, if once in the body of Squire Higginson, I
should step out into the world to possess riches, respect, content, and all that
man covets. Oh that I might be Squire Higginson!” I cried.
The words were scarce
out of my mouth, before I felt myself vanishing, as it were, into the dead man’s
nostrils, into which I--that is to say, my spirit--rushed like a breeze of air;
and the very next moment I found myself kicking the fence to pieces in a lusty
effort to rise to my feet, and feeling as if I had just tumbled over it.
“The devil take the
fence, and that Jersey kill-deer that keeps it in such bad order!” I cried, as
I rose up, snatching at my gun, and whistling for my dog Ponto. My dog Ponto!
It was even the truth; I was no more Sheppard Lee, the poor and
discontented,--no longer a disimbodied spirit, wandering about only to frighten
dogs out of their senses; but John Hazlewood Higginson, Esq., solid and
substantial in purse and flesh, with a rosy face,and a heart as cheerful as the
morning, which was now reddening over the whole east. If I had wanted any proof
of the transformation beyond that furnished by my own senses and sensations, it
would have been provided by my dog Ponto, who now came running up, leaping on
and about me with the most extravagant joy.
“God be thanked!” I
cried, dancing about as joyously as the dog; “I am now a respectable man, with
my pockets full of money. Farewell, then, you poor miserable Sheppard Lee! you
ragamuffin! you poor wretched shote! you half-starved old sand-field Jersey
kill-deer! you vagabond! you beggar! you Dicky Dout, with the wrong place in
your upper story! you are now a gentleman and a man of substance, and a happy
dog into the bargain. Ha, ha, ha!” and here I fell a laughing out of pure joy;
and giving my dog Ponto a buss, as if that were the most natural act in the
world, and a customary way of showing my satisfaction, I began to stalk towards
my old ruined house, without exactly knowing for what purpose, but having some
vague idea about me, that I would set old Jim Jumble and his wife Dinah to
shouting and dancing; an amusement I would willingly have seen the whole world
engaged in at that moment.
I had not walked twenty
yards, before a woodcock that was feeding on the edge of the marsh started up
from under my nose, when, clapping my gun to my shoulder, I let fly at him, and
down he came.
“Aha, Ponto!” said I, “when
did I ever fail to bring down a woodcock? Bring it along, Ponto, you rascal.--Rum-te,
ti, ti! rum-te, ti, ti!” and I went on my way singing for pure joy, without
pausing to recharge, or to bag my game. I reached my old house, and began to
roar out, without reflecting that I was now something more than Sheppard Lee, “Hillo!
Jim Jumble, you old rascal! get up and let me in.”
“What you want, hah?”
said old Jim, poking his head from the garret-window of the kitchen, and
looking as sour as a persimmon before frost. “Guess Massa Squire Higginson
drunk, hah? What you want? S’pose I’m gwyin to git up afo’ sunrise for not’in’,
and for anybody but my Massa Sheppard?”
“Why, you old dog,”
said I, in a passion, “I am your master Sheppard; that is, your master
JohnHazlewood Higginson, Esquire; for as for Sheppard Lee, the Jersey
kill-deer, I’ve finished him, you rascal; you’ll never see him more. So get
down, and let me into the house, or I’ll--”
“You will, hah?” said
Jim; “you will what?”
“I’ll shoot you, you
insolent scoundrel!” I exclaimed, in a rage,--as if it were the most natural thing
in the world for me to be in one; and as I spoke, I raised my piece; when “Bow--wow--
wough!” went my old dog Bull, who had not bitten a man for two years, but who
now rushed from his kennel under the porch, and seized me by the leg.
“Get out, Bull, you
rascal!” said I, but he only bit the harder; which threw me into such a fury
that I clapped the muzzle of my gun to his side, and, having one charge
remaining, blew him to pieces.
“Golla-matty!” said old
Jim, from the window, whence he had surveyed the combat; “golla-matty! shoot
old Bull!”
And with that the black
villain snatched up the half of a brick, which I suppose he kept to daunt
unwelcome visiters, and taking aim at me, he cast it so well as to bring it
right against my left ear, and so tumbled me to the ground. I would have blown
the rascal’s brains out, in requital of this assault, had there been a charge
left in my piece, or had he given me time to reload; but as soon as he had cast
the brick, he ran from the window, and then reappeared, holding out an old
musket that, I remembered, he kept to shoot wild ducks andmuskrats in the
neighbouring marsh with. Seeing this formidable weapon, and not knowing but
that the desperado would fire upon me, I was forced to beat a retreat, which I
did in double quick time, being soon joined by my dog Ponto, who had fled, like
a coward, at the first bow-wough of the bulldog, and saluted in my flight by
the amiable tones of Dinah, who now thrust her head from the window, beside Jim’s,
and abused me as long as I could hear.
I went off in a
towering rage, to think of the reception I had met, and that too after an
absence of a whole night. I had been bitten by my own dog, and driven from my
own doors by my own servants! But there was something in these circumstances to
admonish me of the change that had come over me. They reminded me of a fact
that was not always present to my thoughts,--to wit, that I was no longer
Sheppard Lee, but Mr. John Hazlewood Higginson, a very different sort of
personage altogether.
To account for my
forgetfulness of this important transformation, I must relate that, although I
had acquired along with his body all the peculiarities of feeling, propensity,
conversation, and conduct of Squire Higginson, I had not entirely lost those
that belonged to Sheppard Lee. In fact, Imay be said to have possessed, at that
time, two different characters, one of which now governed me, and now the
other; though the squire’s, it must be confessed, was greatly predominant.
Thus, the moment after the transformation, I found myself endowed with a
passion for shooting, as if I had had it all my life long, a buoyant tone of
mind, and, in addition, as I by-and-by discovered, with somewhat a hot temper;
none of which had ever been known to me before. The difficulty was, that I
could not immediately shake off my old Sheppard Lee habits; and the influence
of these, perhaps (if one must scrutinize into the matter), more than the
absolute retention of any other native peculiarities, drove me into the
inconsistencies of which I was for a short time guilty. But I will not trouble
the reader with philosophizing.
I perceived, from the
repulse I had received from Jim Jumble, that it now became me to sink his old
master altogether, which I was very well content to do, and resolved
accordingly; although I could not help thinking, as I strode over the
forty-acre farm, how much satisfaction I should have, now that I was a rich
man, in putting it into fine order. But these thoughts were soon driven from my
mind by Ponto making a set at some game, and in a moment I was banging away,
right and left, and slaughtering the birds in the finest style imaginable.
Oh, the delights of
shooting woodcock! It is rather hot work, though, of a midsummer day; and
notwithstanding the prodigious satisfaction I hadin pursuing the sport, I felt
that my satisfaction would have been still greater, had I been a few stone
lighter. I began to think Squire Higginson’s fat rather inconvenient; and I had
the same opinion of a touch of asthma, or something of that nature, which I
found in his lungs; and, besides, there was a sort of whizzing, and humming,
and spinning in my head, where they had been all the morning, which were not
altogether agreeable.
In consequence of these
infirmities of my new body, I began, after a while, to weary of the sport; and
was just on the point of setting off to the village to get my dinner, when a
crowd of men made their appearance in the marsh, and setting up a great shout
at sight of me, began to run towards me. I could not conceive the cause of such
a concourse, nor could I imagine for what reason they directed their steps
towards me; but hearing them utter the most furious cries, and perceiving that
a multitude of dogs they had with them were rushing against me, as if to devour
me, I was seized with alarm, and began to retreat towards a wood that was not
far off.
This evidence of terror
on my part only caused the people to utter louder and more savage cries,
besides setting the dogs to running faster; and these ferocious animals gaining
upon me, and being on the point of tearing me to pieces, I was obliged to let
fly my piece among them, whereby I shot one dead, and disabled two or three
others. I then defended myself with the breech of my gun, until themen came up;
one of whom tripped up my heels, while the others seized and disarmed me,
crying out “that I was a murderer; that I was found out, and should be hanged,
if there was any law in the county.”
I was confounded at
this charge; but how much greater was my amazement, when I understood, as they
haled me along towards the village, which they did very roughly, that I was
accused of having murdered Sheppard Lee--that is, my own identical self!
This accusation
appeared to me so preposterous, that in spite of my indignation (for my fears
had now subsided), I burst into a laugh; which only made them rail at me more
furiously than I can express. “Hear him!” said they; “he laughs! He thinks,
because he is a rich man, he can shoot any poor man he pleases, and buy himself
off. But we will show him there’s law in Jersey for aristocrats as well as poor
men, and that we can hang a purse-proud man as soon as a beggar.”
And so they went on
reviling me as if I had been the greatest criminal in the land, and dragging
me, as they said, to a squire, who would soon show me what law was.
I tried to reason with
them, but it was all in vain; I then fell into a passion, and cursed and swore
at them in a way which I am certain I never did before at any human being;
having always had, while Sheppard Lee, a great horror ofprofanity; but this was
just as fruitless an expedient as the other. They dragged me on until we
reached the village, where we found all in a hubbub, men, women, and children
running about as if mad, and exclaiming that “Squire Higginson had murdered
Sheppard Lee, and hid the body in the Owl-roost Swamp.” As soon as they saw me
they set up a shout, and some low fellows among them raged in such a degree
that I thought they would have massacred me in the street. They crowded round
me, hustled me, seized me by the collar, shook their fists in my face, and, in
general, testified such a vindictive concern for the murder of poor Sheppard
Lee, as they called him, that I might have supposed there was never a man more
widely beloved than myself, had I not known otherwise--or, rather, had I not
been too closely occupied to suppose any thing about it.
In a word, they carried
me before Squire Andrew Parkins, who was a fat man that I heartily despised; and
here they called upon him for justice, while I did the same thing, swearing
that I would prosecute every rascal of them for assault and battery,
conspiracy, defamation, and the Lord knows what beside; all of which, it seems,
only inflamed the mob against me the more. They charged me with the murder, and
the evidence they brought to support the charge appeared to Justice Parkins
sufficient to authorize his issuing a mittimus. There were twenty persons to
swear I had, two or three days before, acknowledged havinghad a quarrel with
Sheppard Lee on his farm-- that is, the forty-acre--and that he had ordered me
off; and there were twenty more to swear I was a man of such a hot and furious
temper, that it was a wonder I had not shot the poor man down on the spot. Then
came old Turnbuckle and his son, who swore that the ghost of Sheppard Lee had
come to them in the gray of the morning, calling for help, and assuring them
that he (or his body) lay murdered under the beech-tree in the hollow; that as
soon as the phantom had vanished, and they recovered from their fears, they
roused the neighbours, and sending some to my house, who learned I had not been
at home all night, the others proceeded to the hollow, where they found a
freshly-dug grave, with spade and mattock in it, and near it they lit upon my
hat and one of my shoes, which latter was bloody, as well as the grass on which
it lay; that then, looking round them, they discovered me (that is, John
Higginson), sneaking away through the reeds on the marsh in a suspicious way;
that at that moment old Jim Jumble was brought forward, who said I (John
Hazlewood Higginson) had come to the house, shot his bulldog, threatened to
blow his brains out, and bragged that I had just finished, or, in other words,
murdered his master, Sheppard Lee; and, finally, that this confirming the
suspicions they all had against me, they pursued me (I retreating and shooting
their dogs, like a man conscious of guilt,and anxious to escape), and captured
me, not without a furious resistance on my part.
On the strength of this
testimony I was committed to jail, whither I was conducted amid the shouts of
the mob. Squire Parkins (doubtless to beg off as well as he could) afterward
privately assured me, that he had committed me to prison, not from any belief
that I was guilty, or that the testimony really warranted such a step, but
because he was afraid the people would otherwise murder me, and considered that
the only way to protect me from their violence.
Meanwhile, there was a
great search made for my--that is, Sheppard Lee’s--body; the general belief
being that I--that is, John H. Higginson-- had cast it into the swamp, after
having been at the pains to dig a grave, wherein I at first designed to hide
it; and I do verily believe that, had my unfortunate old casing been found, I
should have begun my new existence in the body of the man I had so much envied
by being hanged for the murder. Its sudden disappearance was therefore not more
extraordinary than it was really fortunate.
My wrath gave way when
I found myself in prison; and hearing from the jailer that the grand jury was
then in session, and the prosecuting attorney actually engaged in framing a
bill of endictment against me, to send up to its members, I began to think the
matter rather serious, and resolved to end it before it proceeded further.
I had already
experienced the ill effects of attempting to sustain the character of Sheppard
Lee while in the body of another man, and for this reason was resolved to be
more cautious for the future; but I now perceived I had no better way of
relieving myself of my troubles than by making the prosecutor, who had been an
old friend of mine, and had always treated me with respect, acquainted with my
transformation; after which, I had no doubt, he would throw his bill of
endictment into the fire. I sent for him accordingly; but was obliged to repeat
the message before he thought fit to make his appearance.
“You have perhaps made
a mistake, Mr. Higginson,” said he, as he entered. “You have occasion for
counsel, but none that I can imagine forme; for as to my giving you any advice
in this unfortunate affair--”
“The devil take the
affair,” said I, in no amiable voice; “it was to get rid of it entirely that I
sent for you; for I must stop that cursed endictment of yours. I don’t want it
said of me hereafter that I was once in my life endicted for a felony.”
“Oh, sir,” said he,
with a smile, “we are in no hurry about these things; the bill will lie over
till we can procure a little more evidence, and some of a better quality. Don’t
be in any alarm; but allow me to recommend you to employ counsel. My friend
Sharphead, I think, will be your best man.”
“I don’t want any
counsel,” said I, “and Sharphead may go to the devil; I want to confide to you
the true secret of this extraordinary affair.”
“Faith, sir,” said he,
looking at me in surprise, “if you can do that, the case is not so ridiculous
as I thought. Really, Mr. Higginson, I was rather amused than otherwise at the
charge brought against you, not supposing you knew any thing of, or had any
connexion whatever with, the disappearance of poor Sheppard Lee. But, since you
talk of secrets, sir, I must inform you, I am not the person you should make
any confessions to. I must again recommend you to employ counsel.”
And with that he was
about leaving me, but I arrested him. “Stop, Jack,” said I (his name was John
Darling, and he is very well known in the state, though he was turned out of
office), “you and I are old friends, and we must have a talk together.”
At these words he gave
me a hard stare, looking more astonished than ever.
“Jack,” said I, taking
him by the hand, “I’ll make you stare harder than that. Sheppard Lee is no more
dead than I am; though, as for his body, I believe Old Nick has got it. Now, my
boy, I take it you will act as a friend in this matter, and not blab my secret:
but the truth is, it is John H. Higginson who is dead, and I who am living.”
“The deuse it is!” said
the lawyer, whose amazement set me into a capital humour. “And pray, sir,” he
added, “if John H. Higginson is dead, who are you?”
“Sheppard Lee!” said I,
bursting into a laugh, “only that you see me now in John H. Higginson’s body.”
I then proceeded to
inform him, as I have informed the reader, of my digging for the treasure, of
my sudden death, of the visit of my spirit to old Turnbuckle’s, of the
disappearance of my body, of my finding and entering that of Squire Higginson,
in which he now saw me, and, in fine, of all the other circumstances connected
with the transformation; all which he heard like a man whom the novelty of the
relation astounded into marble.
“Upon my soul,” said
he, when I had done, “you have told me a most surprising story. And so you
really think yourself Sheppard Lee--that is, Sheppard Lee’s spirit in Squire
Higginson’s body?”
“Think myself, sir!”
said I, a little fiercely.“Do you presume to slight my veracity, sir? or to
doubt my common sense?”
“By no means,” said he;
“I have the utmost respect for both. Your story has completely satisfied me of
your innocence. A most wonderful story, sir! truly, a most wonderful story!”
And repeating these words over and over again, he fell to nodding his head and
musing, staring at me all the time, like one who is lost in wonder; and then
suddenly rousing up, he burst into a roar of laughter. Seeing that I was
incensed at his merriment, he hastened to apologize, declaring that he was not
laughing at my story, but at the absurdity he had been so nigh committing in
endicting me for my own murder; and he added, that my relation was altogether
the most remarkable he had ever heard in his life.
I then gave him to
understand, I expected, for very good and obvious reasons, that he would keep
the story to himself; which he faithfully promised. He then fell to
cross-questioning me in relation to different points; and he was particularly
curious to know what I supposed had become of my body; when, not being able to
satisfy him on that point, he himself suggested that perhaps Squire Higginson’s
spirit had taken possession of it, as I had done with his, and carried it off
for some purpose or other, and that we should soon have news of him; an idea
that was so agreeable to him, that he fell to laughing as hard as ever. “Sir,”
said he, shaking me by the hand in excellent good-humour,“we will soon have you
out of this dog-hole, and that without betraying your secret. Heaven forbid I
should spoil the good fortune of my old friend Sheppard Lee! No, sir, I am no
tale-bearer, or blabber of secrets. Comfort yourself, sir; I never had the
least idea of endicting you on this absurd charge. Nobody believes Sheppard Lee
has been murdered by you, nor, indeed, by any one else. No, poor devil! the
general opinion now is, that he has taken himself off, to get clear of duns and
sheriffs; and as for the bloody shoe and hat, why that’s a common way of
turning pursuers off the scent, by throwing dust in their eyes. The charge will
be abandoned, sir; you will be liberated, and may, if you like such amusement,
prosecute your captors by the dozen for assault and battery. Farewell, Mr.
Higginson,--that is, Mr. Lee; fortune smiles upon you at last; and you are a
happy,--a wonderful man, sir.--Farewell!”
The attorney then left
me; and so much diverted was he by my adventure, that I could hear him indulge
peal after peal of mirth, until he had got out of the prison.
Now it may be supposed
that my story, from its reasonableness, carried conviction to the attorney’s
mind; and so I was persuaded. But I reckoned without my host; the hypocritical
gentleman did not believe a word of it, however much he pretended to do so. But
in this he was like the rest of the fraternity: I never, indeed, knew a lawyer
to believe any thing unless he was paid for it; andI forgot to present my
gentleman a fee. My story, therefore, not being paid for, or proved according
to law, only convinced this skeptical person that I --“the unfortunate
Higginson,” as he called me-- had suddenly lost my senses, and gone staring
mad; and in consequence, disregarding all his promises of secrecy, he ran over
the whole village, diverting every one he could lay hands on with an account of
“the poor squire’s hallucination,” as he termed it--that is to say, his conceit
that his body was now inhabited by the soul of Sheppard Lee.
But to give a certain
personage his due, or one of that personage’s representatives, I must confess
that Darling, who was at bottom a good-natured fellow, recollected one part of
his promise, and took measures to effect my discharge from prison; which was no
very difficult matter, people being now pretty well aware of the folly of the
charge they had brought against me, and the absurdity of the evidence designed
to support it. The opinion was already entertained that poor Sheppard Lee,
instead of being murdered, had taken himself out of the neighbourhood to avoid
his creditors, having left his hat and shoe in the swamp only as blinds to
those who might be most anxious to secure his person; and pursuers had already
left the village to discover his place of concealment.
Another service that
the attorney did me, according to the jailer, through whom I discovered all
these things, was to despatch a messenger to my friends in Philadelphia, with
the news of my insanity and imprisonment, and a request that they should send
proper persons to take charge of me after being liberated: and I was roused the
following morning by the appearance of some half a dozen kinsmen who had come
to the village for that purpose, fully persuaded that they should find me a
raging lunatic.
But the jailer’s
information had set me to reflecting upon my difficulties, all of which, as I
clearly perceived, were owing to my indiscretion in attempting to keep up the
character of Sheppard Lee while in another man’s body. I saw the necessity I
was now placed under to be Mr. John H. Higginson, and nobody else, for the
future; and so I resolved to be--for I did not like the idea of being clapped
into a mad-house by my new friends.
Yet they took me so
much by surprise that I was guilty of some few inconsistencies; for it wasnot
immediately that I felt myself at case in my new character.
The truth is, my
situation was peculiar and embarrassing. With the body of Mr. Higginson, I had
acquired all his distinctive peculiarities, as I mentioned before. But many of
these were in a manner stupified within me, and required to be renewed, or
resuscitated, by processes of association. I was like a man who has been roused
from a lethargy, which had destroyed or obscured his memory, though not his
instincts; and who betrays complete ignorance of past events, and forgetfulness
of old friends, until some accidental circumstance--a casual reference to some
past event, the tone of a voice, or other such cause-- recalls him, it may be,
to sudden and complete, though usually imperfect, consciousness.
Thus, when I was roused
up in the morning, and beheld a good-looking personage of about my own years
shaking me by the shoulder, I regarded him only as some impertinent stranger
intruding upon my privacy, saluted him with divers epithets expressive of rage
and indignation, and concluded by asking him “who the devil he was?”
“What! I?” said he,
with the most doleful visage in the world; “why, Timothy--that is, Tim
Doolittle, your brother-in-law--Don’t you know me?”
And “Don’t you know me?
and me? and me? your cousin, Tom This, and your old friend, Dick That?” cried
they all, with horrible long faces; theoddity of which after a while set me a
laughing, especially when I came to recollect them all, as I did by-and-by when
they had pronounced their names; for at each name it seemed to me as if a film
fell from my eyes, and some spirit within awakened me to a vague recollection
of the person to whom it belonged. In a word, I became aware that I was
surrounded by a knot of my oldest and best friends, all of them excellent jolly
dogs and good fellows, who were come to escort me home, and assured me that I
was no longer a prisoner.
I shook them all by the
hand, and contrasting for a moment in my mind the melancholy condition in which
I had lived as Sheppard Lee, with my present glorious state, surrounded by
friends, and conscious of possessing lands, houses, stocks, Schuylkill
coal-mines, and the Lord knows what other goods beside, I fell into a rapture,
danced about my cell, and hugged every person present, as well as the jailer,
and my old friend Darling, the attorney, who happened at that moment to enter.
“Bravo!” said Tim
Doolittle; “now you’re the true Jack Higginson again; and I don’t believe you
are mad a bit.”
“Mad!” said I, thinking
it needful to explain away that imputation, “No, and I never was. I tumbled
over an old rotten fence, and hurt my head, which was, in consequence, in a
whiz all day yesterday; but now it is clear enough. I think I said some silly
things about one thing and another; but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Ah!” said Tim
Doolittle, touching his forehead and looking as grave as a bullfrog, “it’s well
it’s no worse; for I always thought you had a turn for apoplexy. But I’m glad
you are so well; it will be good news for poor Margaret.”
“Margaret! who the
deuse is she?” said I, feeling quite strange at the name.
“Why, my poor sister,
your wife, to be sure,” said he.
My wife!!! I
recollected that I had a wife; but the recollection made me feel, I knew not
exactly why, as if I had been suddenly soused into cold water. It was a highly
uncomfortable idea, and accordingly I hastened to get rid of it.
“Let us leave this
confounded place,” I said; and we left the prison.
The prospect of a fine
sunshiny day infused animation into my mind, which was vastly increased when I
stepped into a splendid new barouche, with a pair of bay horses worth a
thousand dollars--for so much Tim gave me to understand I--that is to say, my
prototype--had given for them scarce a month before--the whole establishment
being therefore my own! “What a happy man am I! Ah! poor miserable Sheppard
Lee! Farewell now to poverty! farewell to discontent!”
Such were my secret
ejaculations as we set out in my splendid barouche, followed by a train of gigs
and carriages that contained my friends. I esteemed myself the happiest man in
the world; and I gave my last sigh to the memory of Sheppard Lee.
What a glorious time we
had of it on our way to Philadelphia! I found myself the richest man in the
company--my pocketbook was full of bank-notes--and I resolved to give my
friends a blow-out. We stopped at a certain village, and at a certain hotel
therein, the master of which prepares the best dinners, and has the best butt
of genuine Madeira, in all New-Jersey. “Let us rest and rejoice,” I said, “and
we will drive into town after nightfall.”
My friends agreed; we
ate, drank, and were merry; and it was not until after sunrise the next morning
that we found ourselves in Philadelphia, and in my--yes, excellent reader--in
my house in Chestnut-street, south side, two doors from the corner of-- But it
is needless to be particular. The house is yet standing, in a highly
aristocratic neighbourhood, and is not yet converted into a dry-goods shop.
I reached my house: I--
But before I relate what befell me in that splendid pile of red bricks, which,
like its neighbours, seems to be blushing all the year round at its naked
simplicity, I must say a few words more of Sheppard Lee.
I never felt the
slightest inclination to revisit the scenes of my late trouble and discontent;
but the newspapers, which are the lights of the age, though occasionally
somewhat smoky, acquainted me with the events that followed after my marvellous
disappearance. “What has become of Sheppard Lee?” was the cry, after his
creditors had sought for him in vain during a space of two weeks and more. No
vestige of him was discovered, not the slightest clew to indicate his fate,
beyond those already brought to light in the Owlroost. It was impossible he
could have fled without leaving some traces; and none were found. “And why
should he fly?” men at last began to ask. He was in debt, it was true; but what
could he gain by absconding, since his little property was necessarily left
behind him?
In a word, the
improbabilities of his having voluntarily fled were so great, that men began to
recur to their original idea of his having been murdered. But why was he
murdered? and by whom? Some few began to revive the charges against me--that is
to say, against John H. Higginson; but brighter ideas were struck out, andJohn
H. Higginson was forgotten. An old friend of mine, who never cared a fig for
me, but who was ambitious to create a tumult, and become the leader of a party,
got up in a public place, and recounted the history of William Morgan, and his
mysterious abduction and murder by the masons of the empire state. A terrible
agitation at once seized his listeners. “Poor, dear, unfortunate Sheppard Lee!”
they cried; “the masons have Morganized him, for apostatizing from his oaths,
and revealing the secrets of the society! Yes, he has been Morganized!” And,
giving way to their rage, they were on the point of tarring and feathering all
the free-masons they could lay their hands on; when, presto--as the conjurers
say, they suddenly made discovery that the masons could not have murdered me
for divulging secrets, inasmuch as I had never known them, nor for
apostatizing, as I had never been a mason in my life.
But the tumult was not
allowed to subside. My old friends of the administration, finding that their
strength was dwindling away in the country, and dreading the event of the
coming election, unless a reaction could be got up in their favour, suddenly
burst into a fury, swore that I had been made away with by the opposition, on
account of my remarkable zeal, energy, and success, as an electioneerer and
political missionary; and taking my old hat and shoe, and carrying them round
the village in solemn procession, they stopped in the market-place, where one
of their chieforators--my faithful friend, the new postmaster --delivered a
sort of funeral address, in which he compared the opponents of the
administration to cut-throats and cannibals, pronounced them the enemies of
liberty, swore that no honest patriot was safe among them, and declared--his
declaration being illustrated by shouts, and groans, and grim faces--that I had
perished, “the.victim of a murderous opposition!”
But, as if that was not
immortality enough for one of my humble pretensions, the opposition instantly
turned the tables upon their accusers. Witnesses stepped forward to prove that,
on the night when I was seen for the last time, I had, in the bar-room of the
first hotel in the village, publicly denounced the hurrah party, as being based
upon deception and fraud, and avowed my determination not only instantly to
leave it, but to go my death thenceforth in opposition. “See the bloody
vindictiveness and malice of the hurrah party!” they cried; “before the sun
rose upon this unfortunate and honest man--honest, because he deserted his
party the moment his eyes were opened to its corruption--he was a living man no
longer. The bravoes of this horrible gang of mid-night murderers, who have
trampled on our rights and liberties, and now trample on our lives, met the
unlucky patriot as he returned to his lowly cot, and--just Heavens!--where was
he now, save in his bloody and untimely grave? he, the humble, the unoffending,
the honest, the universally-esteemed, the widely-beloved, the patriotic Sheppard
Lee! --waylaid and ambushed! killed, slain, murdered, massacred! the victim of
a despotic and vindictive cabal,--the martyr of liberty, the--” In short, the
noblest, honestest, dearest, best, and most illused creature that ever dabbled
in the puddle of politics. One might suppose that this outcry of the antis,
backed as it was by the full proof of my change of politics, would have stopped
the mouths of the hurrah-boys. But it did no such thing; they only raved the
louder. As for the proof of my backsliding, they treated that with contempt;
proofs being as little regarded in politics as arguments. They accused the
antis more zealously than before; and the antis recriminated with equal
enthusiasm.
There were some men in
the village who strove to appease the ferment, by directing suspicion upon the
German doctor, and divers other personages, just as the humour of suspicion
seized them, furiously accusing these suspected individuals of having had some
hand in the catastrophe. But the German doctor and the other persons accused
had nothing to do with politics, and were therefore suffered to go their ways.
It is a great protection to one’s reputation to keep clear of politics. The
guilt of my murder was left to be borne by the hurrah-boys and the antis, one
party or the other; but as the evidence was equally strong against either
party, and just as strong against any one individual of either party as
another, it resultedthat I was murdered not only by both parties, but by every
man of both parties;--a peculiarity in my history that proved me to have
possessed, though I never dreamed it before, a vaster number both of energetic
friends and bloodthirsty enemies (each man being both friend and enemy) than
any other man in the whole world.
How the antis and the
hurrah-boys settled the affair among them, I did not care to inquire. I was
engrossed by the novelties and charms of a new being, and willing to forget
that such a poor devil as Sheppard Lee had ever existed.
Let the reader judge of
my transport, when my elegant new barouche and splendid pair of horses, that
cost me a thousand dollars, drew up before my house in Chestnut-street. I stood
upon the kerbstone and surveyed it from top to bottom. The marble of the steps,
basement, and window-sills was white as snow, and the bricks were redder than
roses. The windows were of plate glass, and within them were curtains of
crimson damask, fronted with hangings of white lace, as fine and lovely as a
bride’s veil of true Paris blonde; and a great bouquet of dahlias, wreathed
around ablooming rose, glittered in each. It was evidently the house of a man
of wealth and figure.
The neighbourhood, it
was equally manifest, was of the highest vogue and distinction: on one side was
the dwelling of a fashionable tailor, who built a house out of every ten coats
that he cut; on the other side was the residence of a retired tavern-keeper;
and right opposite, on the other side of the street, was the mansion of one of
the first aristocrats in the town, who had had neither a tailor nor a
tavern-keeper in the family for a space of three full generations. There was no
end to the genteel people in my neighbourhood; here was the house of a
firstrate lawyer, there of a shop-keeper who had not sold any thing by retail
for ten years; here a Cræsus of a carpenter who turned up his nose at the
aristocrat, and there a Plutus of a note-shaver who looked with contempt on the
gentleman of chips. In short, my house was in a highly fashionable
neighbourhood; and I felt, as I mounted my marble steps, that Jack Higginson,
the brewer (as my brother Tim always called me), was as genteel a fellow among
them as you would find of a summer’s day.
I entered the house as
proud as Lucifer, telling my friends that they should crack a bottle or two of
my best port; for Tim had given me a hint that my cellar contained some of the
best in the world. “And,” said Tim, giving me a wink, “we may take our fun now,
as sister Margaret--” at that name I felt a cold creeping in my bones--“as
sister Margaret is still in the country.” The ague left me--“I did not think
it,” he continued, “worth while to alarm her.”
“The Lord be thanked!”
said I; though why I said it, I knew no more than the man in the moon.
We sat down, we drank,
and we made merry-- that is to say, they made merry: as for myself, a
circumstance occurred which nipped my pleasure in the bud, and began to make me
doubt whether, in exchanging the condition of Sheppard Lee for that of John H.
Higginson, I had not made some-what of a bad bargain.
I had managed, somehow
or other, in the course of the night, to stump my toe, or wrench my foot; and,
though the accident caused me but little inconvenience at the time, the member
had begun gradually to feel uneasy; and now, as I sat at my table, it grew so
painful that I was forced to draw off my boot. But this giving me little
relief, and finding that my foot was swollen out of all shape and beauty, my
brother Tim pronounced it a severe strain, and recommended that I should call in
my family physician, Dr. Boneset, a very illustrious man, and fine fellow, who
at that moment chanced to drive by in his coal-black gig, which looked, as
physicians’ gigs usually look, as if in mourning for a thousand departed
patients.
“What’s the matter?”
said the doctor.
“Why, doctor,” said I, “I
have given my foot a confounded wrench; I scarce know how; but it is as big and
as hot as a plum-pudding.”
“Hum, ay!--very
unlucky,” said the doctor: “off with your stocking, and let me look at your
tongue. Pulse quite feverish. Fine port!” he said, drinking off a glass that
Tim had poured him, and cocking his eye like one who means to be witty, “fine
port, sir; but one can’t float in it for ever without paying port-charges. A
very gentlemanly disease, at all events. It lies between port and porter.”
“Port and porter!
disease!” said I, slipping off my stocking as he directed, without well knowing
what he meant. My foot was as red as a salamander, swelled beyond all
expression, and, while I drew the stocking, it hurt me most horribly.
“Zounds doctor!” said
I, “can that be a wrench?”
“No,” said the doctor, “it’s
the wrencher--genuine podagra, ’pon honour.”
“Podagra!” said I; “Podagra!”
said Tim; and “Podagra!” said the others. “What’s that?”
“Gout!” said the
doctor.
“Gout!” cried my
friends; “Gout!!” roared my brother Tim; and “Gout!!!” yelled I, starting from
the doctor as if from an imp of darkness who had just come to make claim to me.
It was the unluckiest leap in the world; I kicked over a chair as I started,
and the touch was as if I had clapped my foot into the jaws of a roaring lion.
Crunch went every bone; crack went every sinew; and such a yell as I set up was
never before heard in Chestnut-street.
“You see, gentlemen--(I’ll
take another glass of that port, Mr. Doolittle)--you see what we must all come
to! This is one of the small penalties one must pay for being a gentleman; when
one dances, one must pay the piper. Now would my friend Higginson there give a
whole year of his best brewing, that all the pale ale and purple port that have
passed his lips had been nothing better than elder-wine and bonny-clabber. But
never mind, my dear sir,” said the son of Æsculapius, with a coolness that
shocked me; “as long as it’s only in your foot, it’s a small matter.”
“A small matter!”--I
grinned at him; but the unfeeling wretch only repeated his words--“A small
matter!”
I had never been sick
before in my life. As John H. Higginson, my worst complaints had been only an
occasional surfeit, or a moderate attack of booziness; and as Sheppard Lee, I
had never known any disease except laziness, which, being chronic, I had grown
so accustomed to that it never troubled me. But now, ah, now! my first step
into the world of enjoyment was to be made on red-hot ploughshares and pokers;
my first hour of a life of content was to be passed in grinning, and groaning,
and--but it is hardly worth while to say it. The gout should be confined to
religious people; for men of the world will swear, and that roundly.
For six days--six
mortal days--did I lay upon my back, enduring such horrible twitches and
twinges in my foot, that I was more than once onthe point of ordering the
doctor to cut it off; and I do not know how far that conceit might have gone,
had not the heartless fellow, who, I believe, was all the while making game of
my torments, assured me that the only effect of the dismemberment would be to
drive the enemy into the other foot, where it would play the same tricks over
again. “The gout,” said he, “has as great an affection for the human body as a
cat has for a house in which she has been well treated. When it once effects a
lodgment, and feels itself comfortable--”
“Comfortable!” said I,
with a groan.
“In good easy
quarters--”
“Don’t talk to me of
easy quarters,” said I; “for if I were hacked into quarters, and that by the
clumsiest butcher in the town, I could not be more uneasy in every quarter.”
“I am talking,” said
Dr. Boneset, “not of you, but of the disease; and what I meant to say was, that
when it once finds itself at home, in a good wholesome corporation of a man,
there you may expect to find it a tenant for life.”
“For life!” said I. “I
am the most wretched man in existence. Oh, Sheppard Lee! Sheppard Lee! what a
fool were you to think yourself miserable!--Doctor, I shall go mad!”
“Not while you have the
gout,” said he; “’tis a sovereign protection against all that.--But let us look
at your foot.” And the awkward or malicious creature managed to drop a tortoise
and gold snuff-box, of about a pound and a half weight, which hewas always
sporting, right upon the point of my great toe, while he was looking at it. Had
it been a ton and a half instead of a pound and a half in weight, it could not
have thrown me into greater torture; and the--the man!--he thought he had
settled the matter by making me a handsome apology! He left me to endure my
pangs, and to curse Squire Higginson’s father, grandfather, great-grandfather,
and, in general, all his forefathers, who had entailed such susceptible great
toes upon the family. In a word, I was in such a horrible quandary, that I
wished the devil would fly off with my new body, as he had done before with the
old.
But there is, as
philosophers say, an unguent for every wound, a solace for every care; and it
was my fate to experience the consolation that one provides beforehand against
the gout, as well as all other ills man may anticipate, in the person of a
faithful spouse. On the fourth day of my malady, and just at a moment when I
was fairly yelling with pain, a lady, neither young nor beautiful, but dressed
like a princess, save that her shoes were down at heel, and her bonnet somewhat
awry, stepped up to my bedside, seized me by the hand, andcrying out, “Oh my
poor dear husband!” burst into tears.
Her appearance acted
like a charm; even my foot, that seemed to be roasting over one of Nott’s
patent anthracite blazers, grew cool and comfortable in the chill that was
diffused over my whole body. Complaint was silent at the sight of her; pain
vanished at her touch; I forgot that I had the gout, and remembered only that I
had a wife.
I was struck dumb, and
presume I should not have groaned again for twenty-four hours, had not my
consort, in the exuberance of her affection and grief, thrown her arms around
my neck, and thereby brought the whole weight of her body upon my foot, which,
after having tried all parts of the bed, I had at last lodged upon the very
extremity of the feathers; by which act of endearment my poor unfortunate limb
was crushed against the horrible log of mahogany that made one side of the
bed-stead, and ground to pieces. Had my wife been my wife twenty times over, I
must have uttered just as loud a cry as I did, and repeated it just as often.
She started up, and
regarded me with severity.
“Is that the way you
use me?” said she.--I believe I had rather pushed her away; but how could I
help it?--“Is that the way you welcome me home, whither I have come,--leaving
kinsfolk and friends,--to nurse you? Barbarous man, you hate me! yes, and
besides having no longer any love for me, you have not even the slightest
regard formy feelings. But don’t think, Mr. Higginson, that I will be treated
so any longer; you may break my heart,--your poor Margaret’s heart,--if you
will, but--but--” And here the affectionate creature was so overcome that she
could not utter another word, but sat down wringing her hands and weeping as if
I had broken her heart, and she had not crushed my foot! But, as far as my
experience enables me to form any opinion on such a subject, I must say, that
wives have an extraordinary knack at turning the tables on their husbands.
“For Heaven’s sake,
madam,” said I, “don’t set me distracted;”--the pain and her absurd reproaches
together made me both frantic and ferocious-- “don’t make me believe that Adam’s
wife was made out of the bone of a gouty leg, instead of a good sound rib.”
“What do you mean by
that, sir?” said Mrs. Higginson.
“Only,” said I,
gritting my teeth, “that I have some thoughts she must have been a piece of the
sorest bone in his body.”
My wife marched up to
the bed, and looked me in the face. My wrath went out like a gas-light before a
black frost; my agonies again disappeared. There was no standing that look,
unless one could stand the look of a Jersey black-snake, famous beyound all
other snakes for its powers of fascination. And, talking of snakes, I must add,
that, while my wife gave me that look, I felt as if one, just turned out of
winter-quarters, horribly cold and creepy,were slipping down my back. She
looked at me with mingled anger and disdain.
“How often have I told
you, Mr. Higginson,” she said, “never to attempt to be witty, since you only
expose your folly--I won’t use any harder word. And whatever you do, sir,” she
added, beginning to cry again, “don’t make a jest of your wife, sir. You’re
always doing it, sir; you’re always making me appear ridiculous to your friends
and to myself; you treat me as if I were a fool-- you--”
“Madam,” said I,
endeavouring to appease her a little, for I was quite overcome by her violence,
“remember that I have the gout, and am suffering the--”
“Yes!” she cried; “and
you are determined that everybody else shall suffer as well as yourself, and me
in particular. Oh, Mr. Higginson! howcan you use me so? I’ll never speak to you
another word!”
And down she sat again,
weeping and wringing her hands harder than ever, and moping and whining the
Lord knows how long.
“Sheppard Lee! Sheppard
Lee!” I muttered (but I took good care not to mutter aloud), “you were not the
most miserable dog in the world by a great deal. A gouty constitution and a
perverse wife are--oh! pangs and purgatory!”
I hoped my consort,
being so greatly incensed, would take herself out of the room, when I
determined, though it should cost me a howl for everystep, to get up and lock
the door on her, come of it what might; but she was not of that mind. She
maintained her seat, sobbing and sighing, and, by taking off her hat and
flinging it pettishly into a corner, made it manifest that she had determined
to nurse me in earnest, though in a way entirely of her own. Happily, the
paroxysm of suffering, which was at its height when she entered, soon subsided;
and being left greatly exhausted, and her sobs having somewhat of a soporific
quality, I managed, notwithstanding my mental disquiet, to fall fast asleep;
whereby I got rid for a time of an evil in many respects equal to the gout
itself.
Two days after I was
able to leave my bed, though not to walk: had I been, I am strongly of opinion
I should have walked out of my house-- out of the city of Philadelphia--and
perhaps out of the United States of America--nay, and upon a pinch, out of the
world itself, to get rid of my beloved wife. Who would have believed in our
village, that John H. Higginson, who seemed to have nothing in the world to do
but to slaughter woodcocks, beat his dog Ponto, and ride about in a fine new
barouche with a pair of horses that cost a thousand dollars; who had a
dwelling-house in Chestnut-street, a brewery in the Northern Liberties, with an
ale-butt as big as the basin of the Mediterranean, a goodly store of real
estate in town and country, bank-stock and coal-mines, and a thousand other of
the good things of the world-- who, I say, would have believed that this
sameJohn H. Higginson was decidedly the most miserable dog in the whole
universe? It was truth, every word of it; and before I was six days old in my
new body, I wished--no, not that the devil had me--but I was more than willing
he should have the better half of me. I had the gout, my wife was a shrew, and
I was--a henpecked husband.
Yes! the reader may
stare, and bless his stars --the manly John H. Higginson, who seemed to have no
earthly care or trouble, and who was so little deficient in spirit that he
could quarrel with a Jersey farmer while trespassing on his grounds, shoot his
bull-dog, and take aim at his negro, had long since succumbed to the superior
spirit, and acknowledged the irresponsible supremacy of his wife; in the field,
and at a distance from his house, he was a man of spirit and figure, but at
home the most submissive of the henpecked. Resistance against a petticoat
government is, as all know, the most hopeless of resistance: a single man has
often subverted a monarchy, and overturned a republic; but history has not yet
recorded an instance of successful rebellion on the part of a married man
against the tyranny of a wife. The tongue of woman is the only true sceptre;
for, unlike other emblems of authority, it is both the instrument of power and
the axe of execution. John H. Higginson attempted no resistance against the
rule of his wife; the few explosions of impatience of which he was now and then
guilty, were punished with a rigour that awed him into discretion.
On this subject I feel
myself eloquent, and I could expatiate on it by the hour. But I am writing not
so much the history of my reflections as of my adventures; and I must hasten on
with my story.
No one but a henpecked
husband who may happen to be shut up in prison with his wife, can appreciate
the horror of the situation in which I now found myself placed. The gout
prevented my escaping, even for a moment, from the sway of my spouse; she truly
had me tied to her apronstring, and, as I may say, by a cord that went round my
sore foot. I was a martyr to two of the greatest ills that ever afflicted a son
of Adam; and the two together were not to be borne. Either, if alone, I might
perhaps have tolerated, in consideration of the many good things that marked my
lot. I might have endured the gout, if I had had a wife who, instead of
scolding at me, would have suffered me, as a good wife should, to do all the
scolding myself; or I might even have submitted to the tyranny of my Margaret,
had I been able to beat a retreat when I grew tired of it. But my wife and
thegout together were not to be borne by any human being: they set me, after a
while, quite distracted.
What pleasure had I in
being the rich John H. Higginson? It was in vain that my brother-in-law, Tim
(who, it appears, was the junior partner and factotum in the brewery, as well
as manager-general of my affairs), bragged to me of the astonishing rise in my
property, and declared I was already worth a hundred thousand dollars; in the
midst of my exultation I heard my wife’s voice on the stairs, and my joy oozed
out of the hair of my head. I could only look at Tim and groan, and Tim did the
same; for, poor fellow, though only her brother, he was as much henpecked as
myself. “Never mind,” said Tim, consolatorily; “your foot will be well
by-and-by, and then we shall have a jolly time together.” But my comforter took
great care on such occasions to sneak out of the house in good time, and so
leave me to bear the evil by myself.
In the course of two
weeks, or thereabouts, my foot had so far recovered that I was able to put it
on the ground, and hobble about a little with a crutch; but I had lost all hope
of ever being able to resume my exercises in the field. I was therefore reduced
to despair; and my wife becoming more intolerable every day, I began to be so
weary of existence, that I was once or twice on the point of making away with
myself.
She was, in truth, the
nonpareil of women and of scolders. I have called her a shrew; but itmust not
be supposed she was of that species to which men give the name of Tartar. She
was none of your fierce, pepper-tempered creatures, who wrangle in a loud voice
over the whole house, and sometimes take broomsticks to the servants. Such
viragoes are in a measure sufferable, for they are sometimes in a good-humour.
My Margaret was of the family of Croakers, as they are called; that is, of a
lugubrious, grumbling complexion, always sad and whining, full of suspicions
and reproaches, now in tears, now in hysterics, always in an ill-humour, and so
keeping every one about her in a state of misery. I never knew a servant, male
or female, old or young, black or white, to remain in the house two weeks at a
time, except a poor little negress that had been bound to me-- that is, my
prototype--under indentures; and she, after running away a dozen times, began
to mope, and pine, and look so sorrowful, that, out of pity, I sent her home to
her mother. As for myself, being incapable of flying, and exposed all day long
to her lectures and reproaches, I became melancholy and desperate, wished
myself Sheppard Lee again, with the constable and sheriff both after me, and,
twice or thrice, as I have hinted before, resolved to put an end to my life.
One day, while I was
reading the papers, I fell upon the account of a man who had hanged himself. “He
was in good circumstances,” said the journal, “and had a wife and three
children. No reason has been assigned or suspected for his rash act.”
“No doubt his wife was
a shrew!” said I to myself, “and there was no way of getting rid of her; and so
it was the wisest thing the poor man could do.”
I thought over this
occurrence so long, that it produced a great effect upon my mind; and my wife
leaving me one day more incensed and desperate than ever, I snatched up a bit
of cord that lay in my way, and resolved to strangle myself forthwith. I should
have hanged myself over the chamber door, but was in dread I might slip down to
the floor, and hurt my foot; and thinking it more genteel to die in my bed, I
made the cord into a noose, or ring, through which, having placed it about my
neck, I clapped a silver candlestick, by means of which I thought I might twist
the cord tight enough to strangle me. And so I might, had I possessed the
nerve; but in truth, I no sooner found my breath a little obstructed, than I
became alarmed with the idea of apoplexy, which was always frightful to me, and
so gave over my purpose.
On another occasion I
sent to an apothecary whom I knew, for a vial of prussic acid, which takes life
so expeditiously, that, as I supposed, one could have no time to be in pain.
But that I might know in what manner it operated, I gave a quantity to a
neighbour’s cat, which had found her way into my chamber, and made friends with
me during my confinement; and the creature was thrown into such horrible
convulsions, and set upsuch a diabolical yell, that although she was stonedead
in less than half a minute, I was convinced this was the most uncomfortable way
of dying that could be hit on.
I had then some
thoughts of drowning myself, and only hesitated whether I should try the
experiment in the bath-tub, or wait until I could bear a ride over the
paving-stones to the river. As to cutting my throat, or blowing my brains out,
I had never the slightest idea of trying either; for in respect to the former,
besides that it makes such a horrible puddle of blood about one’s body, it
causes one to look as vulgar and low-lived as a slaughtered bullock; and as for
the latter, I was so familiar with fire-arms, that I knew them to be weapons
one cannot trifle with.
But fortune, that had
served me such a scurvy trick in saddling me with gout and a scolding wife,
along with the wealth of John H. Higginson, willed that I should employ none of
these deadly expedients against my life, but get rid of my distresses in a
manner much more remarkable and novel.
It was three full weeks
before I left my chamber; and during the last days of that confinement, the
only amusement I had consisted in looking from the window, after properly
poising my leg on a soft cushion, upon what passed in the streets; and this, as
the reader may suppose, I only enjoyed when my wife left off tormenting me for
a moment, to go down stairs and torment the servants.
This was poor pastime
for one of my habits and turn of mind; but my wife had made me contemplative;
and had it not been for the perpetual dread of her return that I was under, I
think I might have extracted some diversion from what I saw in the streets. But
being in constant fear and vexation, I looked on with a spirit too morose and
cynical for my own enjoyment.
Day after day, between
the hours of five and six in the afternoon, I observed Mr. Cutclose, the
tailor, descend from his marble steps, and climb upon the back of a horse, to
take the evening air. He rode like one who had taken his chief lessons on the
shop-board; and I often wondered he did not draw up his legs, and sit on the
saddle hunker-fashion at once; but what particularly struck me was
thecompliment he paid himself of wearing his own coats, cut American-fashion
about the arm-holes, and so keeping himself in purgatory all day long. He used
to give parties every fortnight, and invite all the dandies whom he had down in
his tick-book; by which means his entertainments were rendered highly genteel
and fashionable.
Next door to Mr.
Cutclose lived the great lawyer of our square, the celebrated Coke Butterside,
Esq. I could see him sally out every morning with his green bag, which he carried
in his own hands, either because he intended to be a candidate at the next
Congressional election, and would seem democratic, or because he was afraid, if
he intrusted it to another, the devil might snap it up as his own property. He
had a lordly, self-satisfied air about him, as if he felt the full merit of his
vocation, and prided himself upon having more men by the ears than any other in
the whole city. His bow was exceedingly condescending, and his look protecting.
Nearer at hand was the
dwelling of the old note-shaver--old Goldfist, as they called him, though his
true name was Skinner. He was horribly rich, and such a miserly, insatiable old
hunks, that although he had ostensibly retired from business (he was originally
a pawn-broker) for some six or seven years, he still kept up his trade in a
certain way, that was not so reputable as gainful, and of which I shall have
occasion to say something by-and-by. He was said to be a good friend ofsuch
desperate young gentlemen as moved in high life, and had passable expectations
from rich uncles and parents, but he was said to hold his friendship at very
extortionate prices. How such a skinflint as he ever came to live in a good
house and in a fashionable quarter, was a question not easy to solve. But according
to Tim my brother-in-law’s story, he came for economy, having got the house of
a demolished aristocrat who had fallen into his clutches, and found it in so
dilapidated a condition that he chose to live in it himself rather than submit
to the expense of preparing it for a tenant. It brought him, moreover, nearer
to his customers; and perhaps the old curmudgeon, who had a daughter and a
brace of hopeful sons, had a hope of thus getting them into society.
But one who lives at
Heaven’s gate does not live in Heaven, as the saying is. Old Goldfist kept
neither horses nor carriages, nor did he give parties: I doubt whether he ever
asked anybody to dine with him in his life; and as for his boys and his girl,
all of whom were grown up, he kept them in such a mean condition that they were
not company for genteel people. Everybody despised them, especially Cutclose
the tailor, who turned up his nose at them, and called them rooterers, which, I
am told (for I never troubled myself to study the modern languages, there being
so many of them), is a French word signifying low people.*
This old money-maker,
who had a stoop in the shoulders, used to parade the street up and down before
his own door every sunshiny day, in a thread-bare brown coat, to which he
sometimes added a blue spencer roundabout, a silver-headed stick in one hand,
and a yellow handkerchief in the other. The latter he was wont every two or
three minutes to clap to his nose, producing thereby an explosion, which,
notwithstanding the muffler over his nostrils, was prodigiously strong and
sonorous; and once, to my knowledge, it frightened a young lady into the
gutter.
I could say a great
deal more of this old gentle man, whom everybody despised, but whom every man
took off his hat to, on account of his wealth; but I shall have occasion to
speak of him hereafter.
As for the rest of my
neighbours, I do not think them worthy of notice. I might, indeed, except Mr.
Periwinkle Smith, my opposite neighbour, spoken of before, whom I knew to
belong to that order of aristocracy which is emphatically termedchip-chop, and
who was of such pure blood that it had known no mechanical taint for three
different generations, the nearest approach to such disgrace being found in a
family of ragamuffins, who claimed to be Mr. Smith’s relations, merely because
they were descended from his grandfather, but who were very properly
discountenanced by him.
This old gentleman had
a daughter who seemed to be universally admired, judging from the numbers of
visiters of both sexes who besieged herfather’s door every morning. To do her
justice, I must say she was very handsome; but she had the additional merit of
being an only child, and therefore an heiress, as was supposed. I thought so
myself, until Tim, who knew something of everybody’s affairs, assured me that
her father’s estate was eaten up by mortgages, that he was poor as a rat, and
would die insolvent.
Among the many young
gentlemen who paid court to the fair Miss Smith, I noticed one, who, besides
being more assiduous in his attentions, seemed also to enjoy a greater share of
her regard than others. He was a young fellow of uncommonly genteel figure;
that is, he was long and lank, somewhat narrow in the shoulders, but
clean-limbed, and straight as an arrow. He had a long face and hollow cheeks;
but what his jaws lacked in flesh was made up to them in beard, his whiskers,
which were coal-black, being as exuberant as if made by a brush-maker, and
stretching from his temples to the point of his chin, and so enveloping his
whole face. He had besides a pair of peaked mustaches, that would have done
honour to the Grand Seignior; and, with a turban and caftan on, he might have
paid his respects to the alumni of any college in the land, without even the
necessity of speaking bad Latin.* He dressed well,walked with a step as easy
and majestical as a stork or an ostrich, and was evidently a favourite with the
ladies.
His name, Tim told me,
was I. D.--that is to say, Isaac Dulmer--Dawkins; though, in consideration of
the rusticalness of the first member of the triad, and from regard to his
feelings, which were outraged by its pronunciation, his friends had universally
agreed to suppress it; and, in consequence, he was called I.Dulmer Dawkins,
Esquire, that title being added, because it is the only one an American
gentleman not in office, or the militia, can claim. He was, as Timothy assured
me, a dandy of the true style, being a born scion of the chip-chop order, and,
as such, admitted to all its honours and immunities, though without the support
of any living relations in society, or, as his ill luck would have it, of
connexions either. He was said to possess some little property in town, and,
what was still better, to be the heir of a rich uncle without children, whom he
expected to die within a reasonable period. As for his town property, my
brother Tim doubted its existence altogether, and would perhaps have been as
skeptical in regard to the uncle, had he not known that an uncle did really
exist, and a rich one too, for he was largely concerned in the distilling and
lumbering business on the Susquehanna.
I am particular in
making the reader acquainted with Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins, inasmuch as it was my
fortune, after a time, to fall into a connexion with him myself--as intimate as
it was unexpected.
When I first saw him, I
accounted him an ugly and uncouth personage, and I regarded him with contempt
and dislike. I had acquired, along with other peculiarities of John H.
Higginson, a hearty hatred for all people who considered themselves better than
myself; for, rich and respectable as I was, I soon perceived that I was
considered a very low, vulgar personage by the true chip-chop aristocracy, and
I longed greatly at times, as I looked out of the window upon them, to take
some of them by the ears, and settle the matter of superiority between us in
that way.
But as for Mr. Dulmer
Dawkins, I soon began to experience an interest in him, which was indeed of a
somewhat envious complexion. I frequently saw him dancing along at the side of
the fair Miss Smith; and he seemed so exceedingly happy and content, and she
cast upon him so many approving glances, that I could not help contrasting his
condition with mine. There he strutted in the open street, young, active, and
hale, as ignorant of disease as of care, and here sat I, in a sick chamber,
imprisoned with the gout. There he moved at the side of a young and elegant
woman, who eyed him with admiration, doubtless, also, with regard, and who had
such native amiableness and cheerfulness imprinted together on her countenance,
that it wasplain she must prove a blessing, rather than a curse, to him who
should be so happy as to wed her; while I, miserable I! was tied to such a wife
as I could scarce have the cruelty to wish bestowed upon my worst enemy,
contracted to an ague, married, as I may say, to a toothache. I should have
been glad to exchange conditions with Mr. Dulmer Dawkins--ay, by my honour! if
there was ever honour in man--or with anybody else.
From Tim’s account it
seemed that my young gentleman had a longer face than head; in other words,
that nature had endowed him more bountifully with beard than brains: and, in
truth, I judged, by the way he showed his teeth and rolled his eyes at the fair
Miss Smith, and a thousand other little grimaces and affectations I was witness
to, that he was neither more wise nor brilliant than the others of his tribe.
But what of that? Wisdom and care go hand in hand, and wit makes us
uncomfortable: fools are the only happy people. So I used to think, while I
looked on Mr. I. D. Dawkins and the fair Miss Smith.
But it is an ill way to
pass time, peeping into millstones, or reading men’s history out of their
faces. Dulmer Dawkins had his cares, as well as another. I suddenly missed him
from the street; the fair Miss Smith made her promenades, attended by other
admirers, and for three whole days Mr. Dawkins was invisible. On the fourth he
reappeared: I saw him as he came up the street, escorting another belle,
entirely unknown to me,but of a dashing appearance. As he passed Mr. Periwinkle
Smith’s house, the fair Miss Smith issued from the door. Mr. Dawkins made her a
low and most elegant bow, his companion waved her fan, and they passed on,
looking unutterable things at one another. The fair Miss Smith seemed
confounded; a flush appeared on her face, and then vanished; she looked after
her admirer, and then, with her attendants, two young coxcombs who were with
her, descended the steps, and walked down the street. I saw her once turn her
head half round as if to look again after Dulmer; but her curiosity, anger,
sorrow, or whatever feeling it was prompted the movement, was restrained, and
she strode off at an unusually rapid and unfashionable gait. “So, so! my
turtles have been quarrelling,” I said to myself; “and the fair Miss Smith is
just a Jezebel, like the rest of her confounded sex!”--It never occurred to me
to think a quarrel arising between two persons of different sexes could be
caused by any thing but the unreasonable behaviour of the lady.
It was two weeks before
I saw Dulmer Dawkins again, and then I beheld him under a new aspect.
It may be supposed,
since I was able to amuse my mind with such observations, that they detracted
from the miseries of my condition, or at least assuaged in some measure my
pangs. But as well might one believe that the condemned malefactor, who looks
out from his cart on the volunteer companies escorting him to the gallows, and
admires the splendid incoherence of their trappings--their infantry coats and
horsemen’s hats, their republican faces and imperial colours--feels thereby
less dissatisfaction with his shroud and coffin, and the rope coiled so
inelegantly round his neck. My observations were made only at intervals that
were both brief and rare. My wife was the most attentive creature that ever set
a husband distracted; and under the plea of nursing me, gave me so much of her
company, that I was gradually driven to desperation. In course of time I was
happily able to get into my barouche, and thus, for a short hour or two, escape
my tormentor. Had that period been deferred a week later, I should certainly
have taken an ounce of arsenic that I found lying in a closet, though I knew it
was awful bad stuff to swallow.
As soon as I found
myself once more at liberty, I began to con over a project I had formed of
deserting my dear Margaret altogether; and this I resolved to put into
execution the moment my foot should be well enough for travelling. But, oh
horror! just as the doctor pronounced me cured, I was seized with a second
paroxysm, and beheld nothing before me but eternal captivity and unmitigated
wife!
This attack was brought
on by the mere triumph of restoration. The afternoon before, I drove out upon
the Schuylkill, with Tim and another friend; and several other jolly dogs
meeting us, we stopped together at a well-known house of entertainment on the
banks of that river, and resolved to enjoy ourselves. I declare in all
sincerity that I was very moderate both in eating and drinking; but having sat
at the table until after nightfall, and being well content to tarry longer, I
made a sudden and rash resolution not to return that night at all, nor upon the
following day either, if I could avoid it. But as it was necessary to account
for my absence to my wife, I instructed Tim to tell her I had contracted a
sudden fit of podagra, which made it proper I should not expose myself to the
night-air. With this fib in his mouth, Tim, who considered the whole thing a
capital joke, as indeed he did every other of my devising, returned to the
city, whither he was followed by the others before midnight.
Now whether it was that
the immoderate satisfaction I indulged in, at enjoying even a few hours of
quiet, was an excess capable of bringing on a paroxysm of gout,--whether it was
the unwholesome night-air of the Schuylkill, so famous for its agues and
bilious fevers, or whether indeed it was not the lie I had invented, which was
punished upon me in the reality of the affliction I had assumed,--it is certain
that I woke up the next morning in quite a feverish condition, and with all the
symptoms of returning podagra, though I did not immediately suspect it. It was
not until towards nightfall that I understood my situation.
In the meanwhile Tim
had returned, and again driven back to town without me, to assure my
affectionate spouse, that, being entirely recovered, I thought it best to defer
my return until the evening; at which time I proposed to be sick again, so as
to excuse my remaining from home a second night. In this way I designed to put
off my return from night till morning, and from morning till night, as long as
I could.
Feeling a little better
about dinner-time, I indulged in a hearty meal, and then lay down. But I had
not slept many hours before I dreamed the devil was tugging at my foot with a
pair of red-hot tongs; and starting up in anguish, I perceived clearly enough
that my malady had returned.
“Miserable wretch that
I am!” I cried; “why was I not content to be Sheppard Lee? Was poverty worse
than the gout? was debt equal in torment to a scolding wife? What a fool I was
tochange my condition.--Would that I was now a dog!”
I hobbled down to the
porch of the inn, not without pain, for my foot was awfully tender, and began
to picture to myself the misery that was inevitably prepared for me. The
thought of living a month longer in the same house with my wife, entirely at
her mercy, drove me to despair; in the midst of which, being roused by the
sound of approaching wheels, I looked up, and beheld my wife herself, advancing
as fast as my elegant bays could bear her, to pay me a visit. I knew her by her
white feathers, and my brother Tim was sitting at her side.
At this sight my
philosophy forsook me altogether; I fell into a phrensy, and disregarding the
condition of my foot, or rather sharpened and confirmed in my purpose by the
pangs it gave me, I rushed down to the river-side towards a spot where I knew
there was deep water, resolved to throw myself in without a moment’s delay; and
this without considering that, as it was hot weather, I should spoil the water
drunk by my fellow-citizens. This was an objection that partly occurred to me
before, when debating the subject of drowning; and I think it so serious a one,
that I would recommend to the councils of Philadelphia to appoint a bailiff,
whose express duty should be to prevent people drowning themselves in the
basin; and the same person might have an eye to the drowned cats, dogs, pigs,
calves, dead fish, and swimming boys,that somewhat detract from the
agreeableness of the water.
I reached the place
just as the barouche drew up at the door, and hopping forward, I began to slip
off my coat and waistcoat, and draw out my watch and pocketbook, though for
what purpose, I am sure I cannot say. But what was my surprise to perceive
myself forestalled in my intentions by another person, who stood upon the very
rock from which I designed to throw myself, and was evidently preparing to
exercise justice upon himself in the same summary way. He was a tall, lank
personage, of highly genteel figure and habit; but his back being towards me, I
could not see his face.
I had scarce laid eyes
upon him before, with a very violent motion of his arm, he cast his hat into
the stream, and immediately afterward his neck-cloth; then slapping his hands
together like one who is about rushing into a fight, and rushing into it with
resolution, he exclaimed, “The devil take all women and tailors!” and leaped
into the river, which instantly closed over his head.
I was so petrified at
his rashness that I forgot my own, and stood staring on the water, as it came
rushing in agitated ripples to the shore, lost in such confusion and horror,
that for a space of a minute or more I neither moved hand nor foot. The water,
which, previous to the plunge, had been as smooth as a mirror, was fast
regaining its tranquillity, when, on a sudden, a great bubbling began to appear
a few yards below the rock, and I saw thetop of a man’s head come to the
surface, and immediately after sink again.
At that sight, my
presence of mind was restored; and being much concerned that a young fellow, as
he appeared to be, should perish so miserably, I rushed into the river, and
being a good diver, had but little trouble to fish him up, and drag him to the
shore. But I pulled him out a moment too late; he was as dead as a herring, or
appeared to be; for his countenance was distorted, and blue as an in digo-bag,
and his mouth full of foam; a circumstance which I regretted the more, as I no
sooner looked him in the face than I recognised the features of my friend, if I
may so call him, Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins.
As I was dragging the
body to the shore, a carriage came rattling along the road, which is there so
near to the river that those who were in it could easily perceive the act in
which I was engaged, and they stopped it to give me assistance. It was at that
very moment that I discovered who it was I was carrying; and I was so much
surprised at the discovery, that I cried out in a loud voice, “I. D. Dawkins,
by the Lord!”
There was immediately a
great screaming in the carriage, and out rushed my aristocratical neighbour,
Mr. Periwinkle Smith, with two young ladies, one of whom was his daughter; and
such an uproar and lamentation as they made about me, were perhaps never before
made by so small a number of genteel people, on any occasion. I was
particularly affected by the expressions of the fair Miss Smith, who seemed
overcome by grief; and, as I did not doubt she had an affection for the young
fellow, I wondered what folly could have driven him into this act of suicide.
But my wonder was not
very long-lived; the cries of the two ladies had reached the inn, and drawn
every soul therein to the scene of disaster. They came running towards us, and
I saw that my wife was among them.
I could maintain my
equanimity no longer: in the bitterness of my heart I muttered, almost aloud,
and as sincerely as I ever muttered any thing in my life, “I would I were this
addle-pate Dawkins, were it only to be lying as much like a drowned rat as he!”
I had not well grumbled
the last word, before a sudden fire flashed before my eyes, a loud noise like
the roar of falling water passed through my head, and I lost all sensation and
consciousness.
When I recovered my
wits, I thought I had got into the place which is never mentioned among polite
people, except at church. I perceived a horrible smell of gin, whiskey,
hartshorn, tobacco-smoke, and spirits of camphire, as if these made up the
constituents of the atmosphere of darkness; and I saw, though very obscurely,
for the light was dim, and there seemed to be films over my eyes, a number of
figures that moved to and fro, uttering discordant noises. One of them, it
seems, and I took it for granted he was the chief devil, stood by me, pressing
my ribs with a fist that felt marvellously heavy, while with the other he
maintained a grasp upon my nose, to which ever and anon he gave a considerable
tweak; while another, little less dreadful, stood at his side, armedwith some
singular weapon, shaped much like a common fire-bellows, the nozle of which he
held at but a little distance from my own. There were four others of them, each
of whom had me by a leg or arm, pulling and slapping with much zeal, and, as I
supposed, preparing me for a gridiron; while divers others flitted about, as I
mentioned before, talking with voices that appeared to me louder than thunder.
Such were the
observations which I made, vaguely and confusedly (for there was a great stupor
over most of my senses), and which led me to suspect I was in the place of
torment; in which suspicion I was confirmed by a thousand pangs I felt all over
my body, so strange, racking, and horrible, that unless one were to have the
toothache, gout, earache, gravel, rheumatism, headache, a stumped toe, and
locked jaw all together, it would be impossible to form any just conception of
the nature and variety of my torments. I had, I verily believed, the
paddle-wheel of a steamboat in my head, which was revolving full thirty times a
minute, with a hideous crashing and clamour, and churning my brains to atoms;
and, by the same rule, I conceived there was an iron-foundry in my lungs and
heart, every cell and cavity of which was full of hot castings.
But it would require a
greater space than the subject is worthy of, to describe the agonies I endured
in those moments of torture; and they were, perhaps, the more poignant, since I
could neithermove a muscle, nor vent my distresses in a single cry,--which I
was the more inclined to do from conceiving myself in the kingdom of darkness.
When I opened my eyes,
I heard him who had me by the nose yell out something to the others; upon which
there was a great stir and outcry among them, and I distinctly heard one say,
after a great oath, “We’ll do well enough without a doctor.”
“What!” said I to
myself, “have they doctors here too? Do they follow their patients?”
“But,” continued the
same voice, “we’ll never finish the job till we roll him over a barrel. He’ll
never show game till the water’s out of him.”
These words, it may be
supposed, were sufficient to give my mind the right cue, and relieve me of all
apprehensions in relation to death and condemnation. On the contrary, they
confirmed me the more strongly in my conceit. How there should be water in me I
knew not; but my idea was, the inhuman imps wished to roll it out of me, only
to make me burn the better. Fortunately for me, another voice made answer, and
opposed the atrocious proposal.
“No rolling on barrels,”
it said, “nor hanging up by the heels”--(hanging up by the heels! thought I)--“it
is against the rules of the Humane Society; and here they are.’
“The Humane Society!”
thought I; “is there a Humane Society among the devils?”
“The rule is,” the
second voice went on, “assoon as the body shows signs of life, snaps its eyes,
and breathes, to pour a little brandy and water down.”
“Brandy and water!”
said the first voice, evidently in a passion; “and I wonder if that a’n’t
against the rules of the Temperance Society? Better give the man so much
burning brimstone?”
“The Temperance
Society?” thought I.--I might have brought myself to believe they had a
Temperance Society, as well as a Humane one, in the lower regions, had it not
been for the violent ardour of him who pronounced its name. I knew by his rage
and fury he could belong to no Temperance Society but in the United States of
America; and the inference was therefore plain, that instead of being in the
other world, I was in the United States of America myself.
But before I could
infer myself into this happy belief, I was confused by a hot argument that grew
up between the advocates of the two societies, who waxed quarrelsome, until
there was a sudden cry, “The doctor has come!” which pacified them in a moment,
and satisfied me I was neither dead nor buried.
The doctor stalked up
to me; I thought I knew his features and voice, but my sight and hearing were
still confused. I have no doubt he treated me secundum artem; but in about five
minutes I was as dead as ever.
However, it was not my
fate to die in good earnest. By-and-by I opened my eyes, feeling in very
passable health, though somewhat weak and dejected.
The devils, or my late
attendants, whoever they were, had all vanished, and with them noise, darkness,
and the various ill odours that had afflicted my nostrils. I was lying in a
very good bed, and chamber with curtained windows, the curtains being closed,
to keep out the sunshine that was playing on them; and at my side there sat in
an arm-chair a young gentleman of a buckish appearance, sound asleep. The
creaking of the bed, as I rose on my elbow, roused him; he started, rubbed his
eyes, and, looking me in the face, burst into a hearty laugh.
“Bravo!” he cried; “I
told old Boneset so! I could watch as comfortably as ever a child’s nurse of
Messina. I thought I should have the child wake me with crying! I vow to gad, I’ve
been snoozing all night. And so you’ve opened your peepers like an honest man
at last, Dawky!-- Pray, what the devil made you drown yourself?”
And here the young
gentleman, seizing me bythe hand, fell a laughing again, and that with more
zest than before.
“Sah!” said I, looking
at him with both surprise and confusion; for, though his voice and face seemed
familiar to me, I could not for the life of me say who he was. “Sa--ah, really
I--ah--” and here I stopped; for, first, I knew not what to say, and secondly,
my bewildered looks set him into such a roar of merriment, that there was no
saying a word to him.
“Come, you dog,” said
he, with a grin here and a roar there, “don’t be comical just after coming out
of the grave. A man just fished out of a river, and rescued from death after a
hard fight between the doctor and the devil, should be serious and
ecclesiastical, solemn of visage, and sanctified of conversation. No joking,
you dog; but get up, Absalomize, and talk. No joking, I say; no joking with
Jack Tickle.”
As he spoke he seized
me by the shoulder, and dragged me half out of bed.
“Ged and demmee!” said
I, “remember my foot!” For my toe catching in the bed-cord, I suddenly
recollected the gouty member.
“I will,” said he, with
another roar; “for, the Lord knows, ’tis the best part of you. Spoil Dawky’s
foot, and ruin him with women and shoe-makers for ever! The one ceases to
adore, and the other trusts no longer.”
“But I mean the gout,”
said I.
“The fiddlestick and
fiddle!” said he: “whoever heard of a poor dandy, living on tick, having the
gout? Up, Dawky, my dog, and tell me what set you to drowning? If ’twas about
Betty Small, ’twas a small matter. What! drown for being jilted! If ’twas about
the tailor’s bill, ’twas still more ridiculous. I say, Dawky, my fellow, what
made you drown yourself?”
“Drown myself!” said I;
but I said it with a stare. The odd behaviour and expressions of the young
gentleman, who called himself Jack Tickle (a name that I never remembered to
have heard before in my life, although his countenance was certainly highly
familiar), and certain queer associations his appearance gave birth to; the
singularity of my feelings; and, more than all, the appearance of my foot and
leg (the former of which, instead of being tumid and red with gout, was white,
and of elegant shape, while the latter, which but the day before had a calf to
compare with any old Quaker’s in Arch-street, was now as lank as a
sword-blade); I say, these circumstances had the effect to increase my
confusion to that degree, that I felt like one who is asleep and knows
it--provided one ever did or can feel so.
In the midst of all I
suddenly cast my eyes upon a goodly large looking-glass that hung against the
wall, and saw my reflection therein. It was the image of Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins!
his exact representation, perfect in beard and visage, save that the former was
in great disorder, and the latter somewhat white, and equally perfect in
figure, asfar as I could compare a man in buff and linen to one in the full
panoply of the tailor.
“My ged!” said I, “I am
transformed again!”
And with that I made a
hop up to the glass to look at myself closer. There was no mistaking the
matter, even if the looking-glass had. I looked at my legs, and I gave a tweak
at my mustaches. My shoulders were elegantly narrow, and my foot as sound as a
savage’s. I jumped up, cut a pigeon-wing, and then, descending, attempted a
balletdancer’s pirouette; after which I looked again into the glass. I was a
young man of twenty-five, and the most elegant fellow I ever laid eyes on!
I ran to Jack, and
hugged him round the neck, crying, “Lard, Jack, you rogue, I’m the most comical
creature that ever lived!”
“Ay,” said he,
smothering with laughter and my embraces together; “but what made you drown
yourself?”
I recollected all about
it, and suddenly felt astonished. I remembered how I had jumped into the water,
and how I had fished myself out, as dead as a poker; that is, how Mr. Higginson
had fished me, or rather how I had fished Mr. Dawkins. I remembered how I, John
Hazlewood Higginson, had wished to be Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins, and now I was Mr.
I. Dulmer Dawkins himself, and nobody but he. I sat down on the bedside,
marvelling how such a thing could be; and the wonder of it was indeed amazing.
That my spirit should creep into a man’s body, though strange enough, was not
soprodigiously surprising; but that my spirit and body together (for I did not
know it had been otherwise disposed of), especially so corpulent a one as John
H. Higginson’s, should get into one--that was truly marvellous.
But my study was
brought to an end by Tickle suddenly exclaiming, with a voice of concern, “Curse
him! gad, poor fellow, I believe he has washed his wits out! He has gone mad!”
“No more than you have,”
said I, shaking him by the hand; “but you must allow it is a most extraordinary
affair.”
“’Pon honour, yes,”
said he, laughing as hard as ever; “but what made you throw yourself into the
river?”
“Why,” said I, in a
hurry, “to save Dawkins.”
“To save Dawkins!!!”
said he, looking at me as one would look at a shoemaker who brings a pair of
shoes home the day he has promised them.
“That is,” said I, “to
save Higginson.”
“To save Higginson!!!”
he cried, with such a roar of laughter as made my teeth rattle; “why there were
twenty people saw Higginson drag you out! I say, Dawky, no lillibullering--what
did you jump into the river for?”
“I jumped,” said I,
quite in a quandary, “after my hat.”
At this answer my
friend Jack Tickle threw himself upon the bed, where he rolled over and over,
until his coat was covered with down and feathers, which cooled his transports
a little.
“I see,” said he, “I
see! It was the last of the family; for hatters’ tick was exhausted! Right,
Dawky; in such straits of credit, I think I should have jumped after mine! Who
would not fight, roast, or drown, for his hat, when it was the last decent one
he ever expected to have on his head? I am glad this was the cause: it makes me
think better of you. I thought, like the rest, it was on account of your
disappointment from the adorable Betty--”
“The devil take Betty!”
said I, but without well knowing why.
“He has!” cried Jack,
uproariously; “at least apoor devil has. She has thrown away her seventy
thousand upon a fellow no more to be compared with you than a tame goose with a
wild one: and instead of spending it like a man, the rascal will buy stocks,
and save it. I say, Dawky, you must have been surprised at her conduct--as we
all were;--really, we thought you had her; and there was no one more certain
than the fair Miss Smith.”
“The devil take the fair
Miss Smith!” said I.
“He will,” said Tickle,
shaking his head and laughing; “or, if he don’t, I don’t know who will; for it
is a clear matter--dad’s done up entirely, and they say the sheriff is already
making an inventory of his chattels. A great pity, Dawky; for, if she had but
money, Miss Smith would be certainly an angel incarnate--a nymph, a houri--the
finest woman in town. I say, Dawky, I think she almost had you!”
There were many things
in the conversation of my friend Tickle which I did not exactly comprehend,
though I had a vague, confused appreciation of all, and afterward understood
him well enough. The fact is, I was in the same difficulty which had beset me
when scarce warm in the body of Mr. Higginson, that is, a confusion of
characters, propensities, and associations, only that the last were imperfect,
as if my memory had suddenly given way; and besides, the difficulty was in both
cases increased by the feeling of amazement with which, for several hours, when
properly conscious of it, I pondered over the marvel of my transformation. How
such a thing could happen, or had happened, I knew no more than the man in the
moon: it was a new thing in the history of man, and there was nothing in
philosophy (at least, such philosophy as I had at that time) to explain it. I
had certainly done nothing, on my part, in either case, to effect a change,
save merely wishing it; and it seemed to me that I possessed a power, never
before known to a human being, of transferring my spirit from body to body,
whenever I willed, at least, under certain circumstances. But on this subject I
will have more to say hereafter.
Happen how and by what
means it might, it was certain a transfer had taken place; and that I was no
longer the poor miserable John H. Higginson, with the gout and a scolding wife;
the conception and full consciousness of which were so rapturous, that I
suddenly bounded on my feet, and danced about like a madman, now running to the
glass to admire my youthful and elegant appearance, and now flinging my arms
round the neck of my friend, and hugging him twenty times over.
The conversation that
passed between us was exceedingly joyous and varied; though, as I said before,
I had but an imperfect understanding of many things Tickle said; for which
reason I will record no more of his expressions, lest they should confuse the
reader’s mind, as they did mine. Some things, however, I gathered from him in
relation to my catastrophe and resuscitation which are proper to be told.
It seems that when
I--that is, John H. Higginson--wished I were, or might be, the defunct, Dulmer
Dawkins, I fell down under a sudden stroke of apoplexy, which was supposed to
be caused by my exertions to rescue the unfortunate beau; and, indeed, I saw in
the first newspaper I looked into, upon getting to Philadelphia afterward, a
long account of my demise, with a highly eulogistic and affecting account of my
heroism in sacrificing my life for another’s; for, as the paragraph stated, I
was of a full and plethoric habit, strongly inclined to apoplexy, of which I
wasaware myself, as well as of the danger of over exertion; and therefore my
act was the more truly heroic. The paper was of a highly democratic character,
and the notice was closed by a ferocious warning to the young bug of
aristocracy (meaning the elegant and fashionable. I. Dulmer Dawkins), “to
remember, when wasting his trivial existence in that heartless society, whose
pleasures were obtained at the expense of their worthier, though poorer
fellow-creatures, that the preservation of it had cost the nation one of its
most excellent citizens, and the world a virtuous man and pure patriot:”--by
which I understood that John H. Higginson was of the democratic party; although
that was a circumstance of which the gout and my wife had kept me ignorant, as
long as I lived in his body.
As for me--that is, I.
D. Dawkins--being lugged into the tavern, along with my late tenement, the body
of John H. Higginson, I was fallen foul of by all hands; and what with tweaking
my nose, beating my arms, scorching my legs with hot bricks, flaying me with
salt, whiskey, spirits, and such things, and filling my lungs with dust and
ashes from an old fire-bellows, I was brought to life again, greatly to the
triumph of my tormentors, before the appearance of a physician; who, however,
subsequently assured me they had revived me with such effect as to give him
double trouble to keep me in the land of the living afterward; for it seems,
after being more dead than alive all that night, I had remained in a kind of
stupor all the following day,from which I awoke on the second morning, well
enough, as the doctor prognosticated I would be, but only after I had remained
more than thirty-six hours in a state of insensibility.
As for my body--that
is, Higginson’s--it had the honour, after being cogitated over by the coroner,
of riding home in my splendid barouche, with the thousand-dollar hourses; but
whether my wife went with it or not, I never cared to inquire. It was enough
she was gone; and oh, rapture of raptures! gone for ever.
My friend Tickle
illuminated me as to other matters, especially in relation to the fair Miss
Smith; with whom, it seems (and I recollected all about it when he had set my
new associations properly to work), I had been quite particular, until he
himself discovered the insolvency of her father’s estate; when (and this I
began to recollect in the same manner) I instantly turned my attentions upon
another--the fair Miss Small--who jilted me. These things, I say, I soon began
to recall to mind, as well as many other incidents in the past life of I.
Dulmer Dawkins; and, indeed, in the course of a few days, I was as much at home
in his body, and among his affairs, as he had ever been himself. But of this
anon. I learned that Mr. Periwinkle Smith, after seeing me lodged in the
tavern, had driven off to town to engage medical assistance; and this he did so
effectually, that I had no less than seven doctors at one time to send me their
bills; which was a very foolish thing of them.
Of these things, I say,
I discoursed with my friend Jack Tickle, whose conversation, together with the
happy consciousness I had of my transformation, infused inexpressible vivacity
into my spirits. I was marvellously pleased at the idea of being a fine young
fellow, with the freedom of chip-chop society; and I was impatient to return to
the city to enjoy my happiness.
“Bravo!” said Jack; “we’ll
walk in together. But do you know, Dawky,” he went on, nodding and winking, “that
this is a cursed no-credit place, and that the man below betrayed a certain
vulgar anxiety about scot and lot, and the extra expenses you had put him to?
What do you say about paying?”
“Really,” said I, clapping
my hands into my pockets, “I have forgotten my pocketbook!”
“To be sure you have,”
said Tickle, laughing; “but why need you tell me so? I am no shop-keeper.”
“I mean,” said I, in
alarm, “demmee, that I have lost it, and with that hundred-dollar bill my
brother Tim--”
“Your brother Tim!”
said Tickle; “who’s he?”
I was struck all aback.
I remembered that I was I. D. Dawkins.
Tickle perceived my
confusion, and enjoyed it, attributing it to another cause.
“Right!” said he,
grinning with delight; “but don’t make any pretence with me. I didn’t expect
you to have any money; and, the Lord be thanked, I have. I’ll square your
account, my dear fellow, and help you to a pigeon besides.”
With these words, and
many others not needful to be mentioned, he led the way down stairs, where he
became astonishingly grave and dignified--a peculiarity I found myself falling
into--slapped his ratan against his legs, called for “his friend Dawkins’s
bill,” and paid it--that is, I suppose he did, for I stalked out upon the porch,
as if I considered such vulgar matters beneath my notice.
Here, being soon joined
by Tickle, and the day proving uncommonly fine, we set out on foot towards the
city; and I was conducted by my friend to the door of my own lodgings.
“In and mount,” said
Tickle: “I see Jem Puddle in the street yonder, and I have an idea I can borrow
fifty dollars of him. I will drop round on you by-and-by.”
So saying, Tickle started
off and left me at the door of my lodgings. I had a sort of confused
recollection of the place, though I had never seen it before in my life;--the
dingy bricks and weather-stained marble, the rickety old iron railing on
thesteps, and the ugly, worn-out brass plate, with the “J. SNIGGLES” engraved
thereon, rose on my memory like old acquaintances who had grown out of it. The
house might have been a fashionable one in its day; nay, for the matter of
that, it was not so humble in appearance but that a gentleman might have lived
in it, if too poor to inhabit a better; and though out of the world, being in a
street called Eighth, it was within hail of Chestnut: nevertheless, it was but
a poor place compared with my late dwelling, my house, in Chestnut; the recollection
of which, together with the reflection that I entered this only as a lodger,
somewhat abated the transport of my joy. “Ah!” thought I, “what a pity, in
giving up John H. Higginson’s gout and wife, I had also to give up his house
and money!” But the recollection of the two first-named possessions was fresh
upon me, and I ceased to murmur.
I ascended the steps
and rang the bell, somewhat faintly, I must acknowledge; for though I had my
friend Tickle’s assurance, and a confused consciousness of my own, that I was
at the right place, there was a certain strangeness in it, naturally arising
from my situation, that made me hesitate. The door, however, opened, and the
reception that followed convinced me I was not intruding where I was not known.
The door was opened by
a bouncing Irish wench, of some twenty-five years or thereabouts, with hair as
yellow as a broom-whisk, and shoulders twice as broad as my own; besides which,
she was not handsome; she had staring gray eyes, brick-coloured cheeks, a nose
that looked up at her forehead, and a mouth not so ugly as spacious.
I was about to pass by
this fair apparition with no further notice than a nod, which I made somewhat
instinctively; but I was not fated to get off so easily. No sooner did she lay
eyes upon me than she set up a squeak, “Oh, hubbuboo! and is it you, Misther
Dawkins, dear?” and threw her great beef-steak arms round my neck.
An embrace from a
creature of her attractions I could have easily dispensed with; yet I might
have been affected by her joy at seeing me return alive from the bottom of the
river, it was so truly natural and exuberant, had she not been in a great hurry
to qualify it. “Oh, murder, dear!” she cried, “and I’m glad; for they said, bad
luck till’em, the vagabones! you was drownded, dear, and was after chating me
out iv my money for the washin’ and mindin’!”
“The washing and
mending?” thought I. “Do I patronise such a tasty body as this? and do I owe
her money?”
But while I muttered
thus within, the girl, giving me another hug that I thought would have made my
shoulders change place with one another, roared out, in continuation,--
“Och, throth, but the
man must drown dape that chates Nora Magee of her own! Musha, hinny darlint,
jist pit yer finger into yer pocket and pullme out the tin dollars and seventy
cents that you owe me.”
“Certainly, Nora,” said
I; and Succuba let me go. “But, ged now, Nora,” I cried, for well I knew my
pockets were as empty as the promises I intended to make her, and I was driven
by a sort of instinct upon the proper course for pacifying the harpy,--a
course, I suppose, that I,--that is, my prototype, the true Dawkins,--had often
practised before;--“I say, Nora, don’t talk of dollars and cents; for I intend
to pay you in eagles and half-eagles some of these days, when my uncle comes;
and besides, Nora, you jade you, I intend to give you a buss into the bargain,
as, ged, I believe I will now.”
And with that I
returned the compliment she had paid me, took the great creature by the neck,
and (yea, faith, and I presume I should have done the same thing with my
tailor, if he could have been managed the same way) absolutely kissed her.
“Och! blessings on yer
pritty face!” said she, looking pleased and disappointed together, but wiping
her mouth as if to prepare for a second salute, “and that’s the way you
bamboozles me wid your uncles and your thricks upon a poor cratur’s modesty!
But, oh, Misther Dawkins, dear, ye’r lookin’ sick and pokey; and so I’ll not be
after throubling you; and I hopes your uncle will be soon in Phillydelphy; for
there’s our ould Sniggles, the hungry ould nagur (that I should be saying so of
the master o’ the house, that gives me a dollar aweek and a new bonnet at
Christmas!) he’s been rampin’, and roarin’, and swearin’ like a Turk, my heavy
hathred on him, he’ll be havin’ you up before the constables and squires for
the dirty rint-money, the ould divil! that you owe him.”
“The rent-money?”
thought I; and I began to have a sort of feeling about me, I do not know what,
but it was not agreeable. I clapped my hand into my pocket; there was a
pocketbook there, but I had examined it before, and there was nothing in it. My
mind began to misgive me a little; it was apparent the worthy I. D. Dawkins had
not yielded me his body without leaving me some of his debts to pay: and as to
what means of discharging them he might have bequeathed, I was yet in the dark.
I ascended to my rooms,
of which I discovered I had a brace; but I was in some dudgeon to find them in
the third story. “Very odd,” said I to myself, “that I should be a fashionable
man and a dandy, and live in a third story!” My instincts had gone nigh, as I
climbed the stairs, to carry me into a chamber on the first floor; but, “Arrah,
now, hinny,” said Nora, “you’d be after forgetting you agreed to give up the
best chambers till yer uncle comes to town--bad luck to him for keeping me so
long out iv my tin dollars!”
“This uncle of mine,”
thought I, “will settle all pothers.” But who he was, or what sort of claim I
had upon him, I knew no more than the man in the moon. My associations acted
but slowly andimperfectly, and when I strove to look back upon the past history
of my new body, I felt like a man who has clapped upon his nose his grandmother’s
spectacles, through which he can behold objects indeed, but all so confused,
distorted, and mystified, that they serve only to bewilder his vision. Thus I
beheld, when I made the effort, a jumble of events and persons crowded together
on my memory, but without being able to seize upon any one and examine it to my
satisfaction. I had an uncle, it seemed, but I could not recall any thing like
a recollection of having ever seen him. “But time,” thought I, “will set these
things right.”
My chambers were but
meanly furnished, and this-- But it needs not I should acquaint the reader with
the divers proofs that rose every moment to convince me Mr. I. D. Dawkins,
though a dandy, was not a rich one. Before I had rummaged an hour among his
chattels, I discovered enough to set me into a cold shiver, and almost make me
repent having taken possession of his body. I found lying upon his table no less
than thirty-seven folded papers--the tribute doubtlessof the two days of his
absence--of which, eight were either billetsdoux or mere cards of invitation to
ladies’ parties, and twenty-nine were letters from tailors, shoemakers,
&c., all of them requesting payment of money owed, and most of them as
ferocious in spirit as they were original in style and grammar. In an old
trunk, which I ransacked, as well as every chest of drawers and closet in the
rooms (the keys were ready at hand in my pocket), I discovered a bushel or two
of bills--I suppose there may have been a thousand of them, for they were of
all dates--not one of which had a receipt to it.
But, to make amends for
this evil, I found Mr. I. D. Dawkins’s wardrobe in pretty good condition,
except in the article of shirts; of which I discovered but six, and those none
of the best. However, there were three dozen good dickeys, and a great
abundance of loose collars and wristbands; with which, I perceived, I might do
without shirts altogether.
But what gave me most
pleasure, and indeed quite consoled me under the feelings of disappointment and
doubt that had begun to rise, was a marvellous great quantity of love-letters,
locks of hair, finger-rings, odd gloves, &c., that I found scattered about;
each, as was apparent, the tribute or spoil of some admiring fair. “Aha!” said
I, “I am a devil of a fellow among the girls: who can resist me?” The idea of
being a favourite among the women, and the prospect I had of shootingconquests
among them, right and left, were infinitely agreeable. “Ged and demmee,” said
I, “I will look about me now, and fix for life. I will pick out the finest
creature I can find who has a fortune, and marry her; and then, I say, demm all
tailors and other people. I will marry a wife, eged!”
It was doubly
remarkable I should make such a resolution, having had but lately such a lesson
of the joys of matrimony. But I found myself fast growing another man. I still
retained a lively recollection of Mrs. Higginson, but fancy pictured an angel
in the anticipated Mrs. Dawkins. Dim visions--which seemed to be made up as
much of crude recollections as of half-formed anticipations--dim visions of
lovely eyes and noses floated over my brain; I sank into a soft, elysium-like
revery; when I suddenly heard a voice, somewhat tremulous and feeble, but rude
as the screech of a strawberry-woman in spring, saying,
“Sir, I say, sir, Mr.
Dawkins, I shall trouble you, I say, for the amount of that ’ere small account.”
The accents were more
horrible to my soul than the grating of a dentist’s file upon the tenderest of
grinders. I looked up from my feet, which I had been admiring, and beheld a
visage somewhat iracund and savage, but so vulgar and plebeian in all its
lineaments, that my fear was changed into contempt.
“And I say, sare!
whoever you ah,” said I,looking the fellow to the soul, “what do you want
he-ah? who ah you?”
At these questions the
man looked petrified; he opened his mouth till I thought his under jaw would
drop off, and stared at me in dumb amazement. I had some hopes he was about to
fall down in a fit. I am not naturally of a bloodthirsty turn; but I knew he
was a dun, and such persons one always wishes the devil would snatch up. But he
recovered his tongue, and, to do him justice, I must confess he used it with a
spirit I did not look for in such a mean, shrivelled-up body as he had.
“Don’t go for to insult
me,” said the Goth, gritting his teeth, and spluttering his words through them
as through a watering-pot; “I’ll let you know who I am. I’ll have my money, or
I’ll have the worth on it out on you; for I won’t be cheated no more for
nothing. And as for what I’m doing here, I’ll let you know as how I’m master in
my own house; and, as Mrs. Sniggles says--”
“Sniggles!” said I,
recollecting that the rascal was my landlord and creditor. I started up, and
seizing the enraged little man by the hand, I begged his pardon.
“Really, my dear soul,”
said I, “I was in a brown study, and I didn’t know you. Pray how d’ye do? how
is Mrs. Sniggles? You must know I have hardly yet got over my unfortunate fall
into the water. Really, sah, I was almost drowned, and I had the misfortune to
lose my pocketbook.”
“None on your gammon on
me!” said Mr. Sniggles, looking as intrepid as ever; “for I don’t believe none
on it; and I don’t believe you’re no gentleman neither, or you wouldn’t keep me
out of my money. You see, Mr. Dawkins, do you see, you’ve had my rooms five
months, and I ha’n’t seen the colour on your money over once; it’s all promise
and no pay. And so, as I was saying, I won’t be diddled no longer, or I’ll see
the end of it; for, as Mrs. Sniggles says, we can’t afford to be diddled for
nothing.”
“Come, Sniggles,” said
I, “don’t be in a passion; I’ll pay you. What’s the amount?”
“Seventeen weeks on the
second story, seven dollars a week--monstrous cheap at that, considerin’ there’s
breakfast in--one hundred and nineteen dollars--and taking off the ten dollars
you paid me, as per account, one hundred and nine dollars; four weeks on the
third story, at five dollars and a half (and good rooms too), twenty-two
dollars; and adding the ten dollars I paid the shoe-maker, and the five dollars
sixty cents I loaned you to pay the fine at the mayor’s office, for smashing
the lamp, makes jest a hundred and forty-one dollars sixty cents, no halves nor
quarters, precise; and the sooner you shows me the money the better.”
“A confounded long bill
that, Sniggles,” said I; “but I don’t dispute it; and the moment my uncle comes
to town--”
The mean, avaricious
fellow had begun to lookhappy, as he conned over the hateful particulars of his
account, which he held in his hand; but no sooner had the words “my uncle” left
my lips, than he began to jump up and down, pulling his hair, gritting his
teeth, and shaking his fists like a mad-man; and to my astonishment the
contemptible fellow waxed profane, and actually cursed me and my uncle too. His
oaths, as may be supposed, only made him appear more low-lived and vulgar than
before; for cursing and swearing are the hardest things to do genteelly that I
know: there are but few persons in the world who can produce an oath with any
thing like elegance; it is the truest criterion of gentility, and in
consequence I would recommend no person to attempt one who is not confident of
his high breeding.
My landlord, Mr.
Sniggles, fell to cursing and swearing, and insulted me very grossly; first, by
affecting to believe that no such person as my uncle existed; secondly, by
threatening to turn me out of his house; and thirdly, by assuring me he would
have his account in an attorney’s hands before I was an hour older. It was in
vain I exhorted him to moderate his passion, and strove to wheedle him into a
better humour; I had forgotten (or rather I did not yet know) the true secret
of his character, which was cowardice, by addressing my arguments to which I
might have readily brought him to reason. But, in truth, I was frightened
myself; how I was to pay a bill of a hundred and forty-one dollars sixty cents
was a thing only to beguessed at; and the prospect of taking up my lodgings in
the debtors’ apartments up Arch-street, was as vinegar and wormwood to my
imagination.
The more I strove to
sooth the wrath of Mr. Sniggles, the more ferocious he became; until at last he
did nothing but dance round and round me, like a little dog barking at a big
one that is tied to a post, crying out all the time, frantic with despair and fury,
“Pay me what you owe me! pay this here bill here! pay me my money, or I’ll have
you in jail!” with other expressions equally foolish and insulting.
In the midst of my
troubles, up comes my friend Tickle and pops into the room. He gave a stare at
Sniggles, and next a grin; and then, just as I was looking to be laughed at, he
made a spring and caught me round the neck, crying, with uncommon exultation and
eagerness,--
“I congratulate you,
Dawkins, you dog! and, mind, you must lend me five hundred dollars tomorrow!”
Before I could answer a
word to this surprising address, he turned upon Sniggles, and, looking black as
a thunder-cloud, cried,--
“Hah! Sniggles? What is
the fellow doing here? dunning you for his money? The scoundrel! Hah! What!”
I thought he would have
kicked the poor man out of the room, and so thought Sniggles also; for, though
he exclaimed, “Touch me if you dare!” he ran to the door, where he looked
vastly alarmed, and was able to muster only a single expression of resolution. “I
asks my money,” said he, “and dang me but I’ll have it; for, as Mrs. Sniggles
says, I’ll not be diddled for nothing.”
“Pay the rascal his
dirty money, and then be done with him; leave his house, and patronise him no
more,” said Jack. Then turning to me, he made three skips into the air, clapped
his hands, and running up to me and giving me a second embrace, cried,--
“Angels, horses, and
women! hug me, kiss me, and lend me that five hundred dollars--your uncle has
arrived!”
“Uncle! what uncle?”
said I.
“Why your uncle
Wiggins--your rich old uncle--your dad of an uncle--your bank and banker
--your-- But I say, Dawky, you’ll lend me that five hundred, won’t you? Saw him
at the hotel --just arrived--asked anxiously for his nephew Dawkins;--bad look
about the eyes--will die in a month; and then--then, my fellow! fourteen
thousand a year, if it’s fourteen hundred!”
“Fourteen thousand a
year!” echoed I; the words were also muttered over by Sniggles. Icaught the
fellow’s eye; he looked confounded and uneasy.
“If that’s so,” said
he, “then I hope Mr. Dawkins will pay me my money, and not take no offence, for
none wasn’t intended.”
“Pay you your money!”
said Jack Tickle, stepping up to him in a rage; “no, you rapacious dun, he sha’n’t
pay you a cent. You shall sue him, and get judgment, and wait six months for
your money.”
“No, you rascallion!”
said I, “I won’t take that revenge of such a low fellow. I’ll pay you your
money, and be done with you. But, Jack, I say, demmee, let’s be off; let’s run
down to my uncle Wiggins.”
“Wiggins!” said my
landlord; “why, you always said his name was Wilkins!”
“And so it is,” said
Tickle; “Wiggins P. Wilkins, the rich and well-known Wiggins P. Wilkins. But
what do you want here? Have you had your answer? What do you mean by intruding
here? You’ll get your money; and so, if you please, do Mr. Dawkins and me the
favour to walk down stairs, or--”
“Well,” said my amiable
creditor, whose fury was quite overcome by Tickle’s violence, and his report of
my uncle’s arrival, “I always said Mr. Dawkins was a gentleman, and would pay
me one day or another; and one day’s just as good as another; and so I hopes he’ll
take no offence. But as for you, and the likes of you, Mr. Tickle,” said the
little man, endeavouring to assume courage, “Idon’t like to be abused in my own
house; but, howsomever, as you’re Mr. Dawkins’s friend, I’ll say no more about
it.”
And with that my
gentleman walked down stairs.
“Let us go!” said I. “Let
us run--let us fly!”
“Where?” said Tickle.
“Why, to my uncle.
Where is he?”
“Where!” cried Tickle,
bursting into a roar of laughter. “Are you as big a fool as Sniggles? You didn’t
believe me! Ah, lud! is there nobody witty but myself?”
“And my uncle a’n’t
come, then?” said I. “What made you say so?”
“To rid you of a dun,
my fellow,” said Jack. “I saw the rascal had worked himself into a phrensy, and
that you were at your wit’s end. I had pity on your distresses, and so ran in
with a huge lie, as irresistible as a broadsword, to the rescue. Victory and Jo
Pæan! I have routed the enemy, and you are no longer in fear. Keep up the fire,
and you are easy for a week.”
“But my uncle really
intends to leave me that fourteen thousand a year?” said I.
“Has he got it?” said
Jack, giving me a comical stare.
“Jack,” said I, after
pausing a little, “I want to ask you a favour.”
“Have but twenty-five
in the world,” said Tickle, pulling out his pocketbook; “but you shall have
ten.”
“It isn’t that,” said
I; “I want you to tell me my history.”
“Your history!” said
Tickle, staring at me in surprise.
An idea had suddenly
seized me; and I must say, that up to this time, it was the most brilliant one
that ever entered my mind. My ignorance of Mr. I. D. Dawkins’s affairs was
still highly inconvenient and oppressive, and I was determined, with my friend’s
assistance, to remove it.
“Tickle,” said I, “I
really believe the doctor has only half resuscitated me; my body is pretty
well, but my mind is only so-so. Would you believe it, my memory is quite gone?”
“As to your debts,
certainly,” said Jack; “so is mine.”
“Ged,” said I, “’tis
gone altogether. Really, it seems to me as if I had only begun existence this
morning; my recollection of all events (and even persons known) anterior to my
sop in the river, is so imperfect, you can’t conceive. Would you believe it, I
really didn’t know that rogue Sniggles, and had to ask him his name! The
ladies, too, Jack--Miss Smith, Miss Small, and the rest that you were talking
about--who the deuse are they?I have heard much talk of my uncle, too. Have I
an uncle? and if so, who and what is he? for I swear, ’pon honour, Jack, I know
no more than the man in the moon. In a word, Jack, demmee, I am in my second
childhood, and you must help me out of it. Give me, therefore, my history, my
whole history, and tell me all about me; for may I be dunned to death if I
rightly know who I am!”
“You don’t?” said Jack;
“well, that’s funny; but I have heard of such things before. Is a dip in cold
water, then, so hard on the memory? I say, Dawky, my fellow, couldn’t we
contrive some way to dip our creditors? But, eged now, Dawky, you a’n’t
serious?”
“I am,” said I; “and I
beg you’ll give me an idea who I am, and all other things appertaining.”
“Oh!” said Tickle, who
seemed vastly diverted by my embarrassment, “that is soon done. You are a dandy
of pure blood, and poor as a church mouse, but not yet out of favour. Your
father, who was a dandy before you, and in prime esteem, having bought his way
into notice with two or three cargoes of indigo and young hyson (for he was an
India merchant), properly laid out in elegant entertainments, gave up trade to
live a gentleman, and died one; leaving you, an elegant fellow and ignoramus,
as a gentleman’s son should be, to spend his leavings. This you have done,
Dawky, and most gloriously. For five years, none of us, the sons of
nabobocracy, could compare with you in dash, flash, and splash. But even
Phaeton fell!Horses galloped away, buggies and curricles rolled into the
gutter, and tailors looked alarmed--stocks flew out at the window, bricks and
mortar took to themselves wings, and your stockings began to want darning. Then
said Dawkins, ‘I will marry a wife,’ and he looked loving at Periwinkle’s fair
daughter; and Periwinkle’s fair daughter looked loving at Dawkins; and Dawkins
calling counsel of his friend, John Tickle, of Ticklesbury Manor, beheld and
lo! Periwinkle’s fair daughter’s father’s fine estate was fenced round with
rows of mortgages, as thick and thorny as prickly-pears. Whereupon the
inconstant swain, forgetting his vows, ran to the elegant Miss Small, who
smiled on him, and married another; and the loss of this adorable fair, fortune
and all, together with an uncommon fit of dunning, so affected my friend’s
spirits, that he threw himself into the Schuylkill, whence he was fished by a
fellow called What-d’-ye-call-it, a brewer.”
“Well,” said I; “but do
you mean to say I have squandered all my property?”
“Every sous,” said my
friend; “it is just six weeks since you spent the last dollar of the last term
of your annuity.”
“What annuity?” said I.
“Why, the five years’
annuity you bought of old Goldfist. Is it possible you don’t recollecthim? Don’t
you remember the row of negro-houses you owned down in Southwark?”
“I don’t,” said I.
“A piece of arrant
cheating! sheer swindling!” said Tickle; “but when did old Skinner ever make an
honest bargain? The houses and lot of ground worth two thousand, as they stood;
but title good and indefeisible, and capable of being made worth twenty
thousand: I remember you offered ’em to old Goldfist for seven. What said the
old hunks? ‘Give me immediate possession, and thereupon you shall have a bonus
of a thousand on the nail, together with the same sum yearly for five years,
provided you live so long-- if not, then as long as you live.’ Snapped like a
gudgeon, and was bit; and on the fifth year--beginning of August last, had the
last integer of payment, with comfort of seeing a property you had sold for six
thousand, yielding its possessor just that much a year.”
“The geds!” said I; “has
old Goldfist six thousand a year?”
“Say sixty,” replied
Jack.
“Tickle,” said I, “the
old curmudgeon has a daughter: I’ll marry her.”
“No you won’t,” said my
friend, shaking his head mournfully: “old Goldfist is too well acquainted with
your affairs; and unless you have his consent, what will you get by her?”
“Tickle,” said I, “I
must marry somebody, or be ruined. But stay, there’s my uncle; now, my dear
fellow, who is he?”
“Faith,” said Tickle, “I
don’t know; always supposed he belonged to the Apocrypha, and wasused to argue
duns into good manners: nobody sues a young fellow that has good expectations
from a rich uncle. But, now I think of it, I believe you did once tell me you
had an uncle-- some vagabond trading fellow or other--in the west; but I never
heard you say you expected any thing of him. I thought you called him Wiggins;
but Sniggles says Wilkins. All’s one, however; for I remember you said he had
brats of his own.”
I began to feel
uncomfortable; and, upon questioning my friend further, I discovered that my
situation was far from being agreeable. I had a horrible quantity of debts on
my shoulders, and no fund to discharge them; and, what was worse, I found that
my means of subsistence were not only precarious, but I had good reason to fear
they were any thing but reputable. My dear friend John Tickle, though a
gentleman and dandy, it was plain, was a personage who lived by his wits; and I
began to see that Mr. I. D. Dawkins was another. From Tickle’s expressions, I
perceived that our chief dependance lay in the noble trade of pigeon-hunting.
As this is a word some of my readers may be too unsophisticated to understand,
I will explain it, and in very few words. As there are in the world young
fellows of plebeian origin but full pockets, who are ambitious to figure in
elegant society, so there are also in elegant society sundry youths of better
fame than fortune, who are willing to patronise them, provided any thing can be
madeby their condescension; in which case, the happy Phaeton is taught to spend
his money in ways most advantageous to his patrons, though by no means to his
own profit. Such a young gentleman is then called a pigeon, and is allowed to
flutter in the sunbeams, while his eagle-clawed friends are helping themselves
to his feathers; the last of which being abstracted, he is commonly called a
fine fellow, and kicked out of their company. I cannot pretend to say what
degree of relish my prototype, the true I. D. Dawkins, may have had for such a
mode of existence; but I must aver in my own defence, that I had, throughout
the whole adventure, while in his body, so much of Sheppard Lee’s original
sense of honour and honesty hanging about me, that I was more than once shocked
at the meanness and depravity of such a course of life; and when I first
understood the thing from Tickle, I was so ashamed of myself, that had I
lighted upon the body of any decent man at the moment, I do verily believe I
should have done my best to get into it, and so put an end to Mr. I. D. Dawkins
altogether. But men’s bodies are not like the dry-goods dealers’ boxes in
Market-street, to be stumbled into at any moment.
It was some comfort to
me to find that our practice in this particular was so little known, that both
Tickle and myself--but myself more especially --were considered in the main
very excellent, exemplary young men, as far as dandies could be, and were still
allowed to mingle in elegant society. As for Tickle, indeed, I soon discovered
he was in but doubtful odour with the ladies, at least with their mammas; for
he had been for some years living on his wits: but I, on the contrary, being
pretty universally regarded as the heir-expectant of a rich uncle, and being
besides a prettier fellow, was received with general favour and approbation.
Having obtained from
Tickle as much of my (or Mr. I. D. Dawkins’s) history as was necessary, I gave
my worthy friend to understand I should need his advice and assistance in
returning into society; “for,” said I, and very truly too, “I really sha’n’t
know anybody, and shall feel very awkward. Here,” I added, “are two invitations
for this very evening--one from Mrs. Pickup, and the other from the Misses
Oldstyle. Now who is Mrs. Pickup? and who are the Oldstyles? and where the
mischief do they live?”
“It is very odd you
should forget so much,” said Tickle; and then proceeded to give me the
information I wanted, promising also to go with me to both places himself, and
prompt me through all difficulties.
Having thus got upon
the subject of the ladies, we--that is, Tickle and myself--fell into a highly
agreeable conversation, in the course of which I lost sight of all my fears and
anxieties, until they were suddenly recalled by the entrance--and a very
unceremonious one it was--of a tall fellow with hinge knees and crow-bar
elbows, fashionably dressed, but whom there was no mistaking for aught but a
vulgarian. I knew his errand before he spoke; and so did Tickle, who instantly
cried out,
“Snip the tailor, eged!
and another paroxysm of dunning!”
“Servant, Mr.
Dawkins,--servant, Mr. Tickle,” said the gentleman, giving each of us a scrape;
“hope no intrusion and no offence; wouldn’t go to controvert gentlemen on no
account. But, talking of accounts, Mr. Dawkins, hope you’ll excuse me; wouldn’t
dun a gentleman for the world, but have a cussed note in bank for cloth, and
must make up the sum by to-morrow; and so, if it’s convenient, Mr. Dawkins,
shall be obliged for the amount of bill.”
“My uncle,” said I--
“Can’t go that no more,”
said the tailor; “can’t go that no more, begging pardon. Bill outstanding
nineteen months and over; wouldn’t mind letting it run the year out, but for
the cussed pressure on the money-market: no money to be had nowhere.”
“Right,” said Jack; “and
what makes you suppose you will get it here? Now, Snip, my dear fellow, make
yourself short. ’Tis not convenient just now for my friend Dawkins to pay you.”
“Must take up that
note,” said Mr. Snip; “can’t think of waiting no longer.”
The rascal spoke
resolutely, though more cowardly-looking than Sniggles: but who could withstand
the rage and indignation of my friend Tickle?
“Away, you ungrateful
loon!” said he; “is that the way you serve the man that made you? Who would
have employed you, you botch, if Dawkins had not taken you up and made you
fashionable?”
“Ay, demmee, Snip,”
said I, taking my cue from Tickle, “I say, wasn’t I the making of you? and do
you come dunning me? Didn’t I recommend you into notice and business? didn’t I
send my friends to you?”
“Can’t deny,” said the
tailor, “won’t controvert; but must say, can’t always get my money of Mr.
Dawkins’s friends; but don’t mean no offence. Wouldn’t think of pressing Mr.
Dawkins; always said he was my friend; wouldn’t mind holding back, if Mr.
Dawkins would send me good pay-customers.”
“Well,” said I,
thinking the man was modest inhis desires, “I will: you shall have three Johnny
Raws before the week is out, and you may charge them double.”
“Very much obliged, and
won’t controvert,” said Mr. Snip, humbly; “but can’t take no more promises.”
“And you really insist
upon having your money?” said Tickle.
“Ay!” said I,
re-echoing his indignation, and putting on a dignity that even awed myself, “you
are determined to have your money, and to lose your business? Tickle, hand me
back that five hundred I lent you, or enough of it to pay the rascallion--shall
have it again as soon as I can run down and see my uncle Wilkins. I say,
Tickle, hand me the money, and let me pay the ungrateful rascal off.”
“If I do,” said Jack, “demmee!
Encourage dunning? Never!”
“He shall have his
money,” said I. “Here, you Snip, you man, you have broken your own neck; come
back here to-morrow at half past twelve, with a receipt in full, take your
money, and never look to make a gentleman’s coat again. Come, Tickle, it is
time I was with my uncle; you shall go along and dine with him. A fine old
cock, I assure you!”
I surveyed the tailor;
my dignity, and the sound of my uncle’s name, had subdued him. He slipped his
bill into his pocket, and looked penitent.
“Won’t controvert a
gentleman on no occasion,”he said. “Always said Mr. Dawkins was my friend; and
as for Mr. Dawkins’s uncle--”
“Yes!” said Jack, “yes!
you said you did not believe in any such person! did not believe therewas such
a person!”
“Can’t controvert no
gentleman,” said the tailor, looking as if he had been rubbed down with his own
goose; “but never said no such thing, Mr. Tickle. Always believed in Mr.
Dawkins’s uncle, but only thought perhaps he wouldn’t pay--that is, wasn’t
certain, and didn’t mean no offence; and so if Mr. Dawkins will say a word for
me now and then to gentlemen that wants coats, I’ll leave it to his
convenience; hoping he will excuse my coming up stairs without asking, not
having found no servant, and not supposing he would take no offence, and--”
And so the rascallion
was going on, heaping apology on apology, and about to depart in contrition for
his offence; when, as my evil genius would have it, in popped Mr. Sniggles,
foaming with wrath, and looking daggers and conflagration.
“Trouble you for the
amount of that ’ere small account,” said the fellow; “don’t believe in no more
uncles; won’t be diddled no longer for nothing; all diddle about uncle--just as
Mrs. Sniggles says--no more uncle than she has!”
“What do you mean?”
said Jack Tickle; but his indignation no longer daunted the dun, who cried out,
with uncommon emphasis and effect,--
“Had my doubts about
the matter, and toldMrs. Sniggles, said I, ‘Mr. Dawkins’s uncle has come;’ says
Mrs. Sniggles, ‘Run down to the tavern and see; for no sitch thing a’n’t
certain till we knows it.’ And so I runs down to the Mansion House, and Mr.
Wilkins wasn’t there; and then I runs to the United States, hoping it was a
mistake, and Mr. Wilkins wasn’t there; and then I runs to this place and that
place, and Mr. Wilkins wasn’t there; and, as Mrs. Sniggles said, Mr. Wilkins
wasn’t nowhere, but ’twas all diddle, and throwing dust in my eyes. And so, as
for this here account, one hundred and forty-one dollars sixty--”
“Don’t controvert no
one,” said Mr. Snip, who had listened all agape to the outpourings of the
other, and now turned his battery upon me again, “but can’t think of keeping
the account open no longer; don’t want to be hard upon any gentleman, but must
have my money.”
“One hundred and
forty-one dollars sixty cents,” said Sniggles.
“Two hundred and
thirty-seven,” said Snip.
But why should I detail
the particulars of that eventful hour? Even Tickle’s courage sank before the
fire of the enraged assailants; and as for mine, had it been fortified by a
heart of steel and ribs of brass, it must have yielded to the horrors that
followed. Duns follow the same laws as flies and carrion-crows; no sooner does
one swoop at a victim, than down drop a thousand others to share the feast.
Scarce had my landlord and the tailor begun the assault, when there sneaked
into the rooma consumptive-looking fellow, smelling strongly of leather and
rosin, who displayed a greasy scrap of paper, and added his pipe to the others.
Then came another, with inky hands, a black spot on his nose, and a new hat
under his arm; then another, and another, and another; until I believe there
were fourteen different souls in the room (or ratherbodies, for I don’t think
they had one soul among them), all of them armed with long bills, all clamorous
for their money, and all (each being encouraged by the example of the others)
as noisy, mad, and ferocious as any mob of free and independent republicans I
ever laid eyes on. Such a siege of dunning was perhaps never endured, except by
a poor dandy. They dunned and they dinned, they poked out their ugly bills, and
they gave loose to their inhuman tongues,--in a word, they conducted in such a
manner that I was more than once inclined to jump out the window, being driven
to complete desperation.
In the midst of all,
and when I saw no escape whatever from my persecutions, they were brought to a
close by a most unexpected incident. The door flew open, and in rushed--not a
fifteenth tormentor, as I expected--but an angel of light in the person of Nora
Magee, who screamed out at the top of her voice,--
“Och, hinny darlint,
your uncle, Misther Wiggins, has come! and in a beautiful carriage! and he
looks as if he could pay your ditts twice over! Sure, now, and ye’ll ax him for
my tin dollars?”
Let the reader judge of
the effect of such an announcement upon my tormentors and myself. Ihad an
uncle, then, and he had arrived--nay, he had paid me a visit, and was in the
house; I could hear him stumping up the stairs! My debtors were struck dumb,
and so was I; and at that moment of confusion he stepped into the room. I
looked at the gentleman, and, upon my soul, I was somewhat disappointed. His
appearance was scarce genteel enough for my uncle; he looked like a country
squire of low degree, who might pass for a man of quality better in an
unsophisticated village of the backwoods than anywhere else; and he had an
atrocious white fur hat, with a big brim all puckered and twisted like the
outer casing of a cabbage. There was a vulgar vivacity and good-nature about
his visage, an air of presumption and familiarity in his motions, and his nose
turned up. On the whole, I did not like his appearance, and my first impulse
was to give him a look of contempt; but I recollected he was my uncle, and had
come in a carriage; and seeing him stand staring about in great astonishment,
as not knowing what to make of such a rout of ragamuffins as I had about me,
nor howto distinguish his nephew among them, I stepped up to him, and taking him
by the hand, said,--
“My dear saw, ah!
looking for me? What! my uncle Wiggins?”
“Wiggins!” said he; “ods
bobs, don’t you know the name of your own uncle Wilkins?”
“Wiggins?” said I; “ged,
’twas a mere slip of the tongue.”
“Ods bobs!” said he, “and
is this you, Ikey, my boy? The very picture of your aunt, poor Mrs. Wilkins!
but, ods bless her, she’s dead. Ha’n’t seen you since you was a baby; do
declare, you’re as big as Sammy. Come to live in your town, Ikey, my dear;
tired of living among the clodhoppers; have plenty of money, and mean to be a
gentleman now. Glad to see you, Ikey; but I say, Ikey, who is all these here
people? Always heard you was a great gentleman; but don’t much like your
acquaintance, Ikey.”
This was pronounced in
an under voice, much to my satisfaction; for the liberty the old gentleman took
with my name was not grateful to my feelings.Ikey, indeed! None but a vulgarian
would have made so free with me.
But he was my uncle, he
said he was rich, and I perceived he might be made serviceable.
I shook him by the hand
a dozen times over, swore “I was so glad to see him he could not conceive;”
assured him--in his ear--the fellows he saw were ambitious cobblers and
stitchers, who had come to beg my favour and recommendation to thefashionable
circles, for my countenance was a fortune, and the rascals would persecute me;
declared my friend Tickle, who stood enjoying the scene from a corner, was a
young blood and intimate, who had just lent me a thousand dollars to pay a poor
fellow who was in distress; and concluded by assuring him, that as I did not
like being obliged to a man not a near kinsman, I would hand the sum back
again, and borrow it of him if he had brought so much to town with him.
The warm welcome with
which I began my speech greatly delighted my uncle’s heart, as I saw; my
apology for the appearance of the duns, it was evident, caused him to look upon
me as a young fellow of great importance and distinction; the reference to the
young blood who had just lent me a thousand dollars, confirmed his opinion of
my lofty stand among the rich and fashionable; and to all these members of my
discourse he hearkened with respect and satisfaction; but when I arrived at my
climax, and professed a readiness to borrow that sum of himself, I thought his
eyes would drop out of his head, they stared out so far. In a word, I perceived
that, let him be as rich as he might, he was not the man to lend me money; for
which reason I despised the relationship more than ever, and resolved to disown
it as soon as my convenience would permit. But it was proper to make it useful
at the present moment.
I turned round upon my
duns, who were yet inconfusion. “Gentlemen,” said I, giving them a bow of
dismission, “I will remember your claims; you may depend upon me; but at
present, as you see, I must attend to those of my excellent uncle. You
understand me, ehem.”
“Ehem,” said they all;
and I thought they would have all turned somersets, so profound were their
congees, as, one by one, they sneaked out of the room. The only ones who
hesitated were my landlord, Nora Magee, and Snip the tailor. The first was
probably overcome by a sense of having dunned me too hard, and despair of
forgiveness; on which supposition I gave him a frown, and waved my hand, and he
retired. As for Nora, she perhaps loitered to feast her eyes with the spectacle
of the rich man, from whose pockets were to be drawn her ten dollars; but I
gave her a wink (a very vulgar way of conveying a hint, I confess--but one can’t
be genteel with one’s creditors), and she rolled smiling away. What kept the
tailor I could not say; till, having given him divers significant looks and
gestures, he began to drawl out, “Can’t controvert no gentleman, but--” when I
stepped up to him, took him by the arm, and led him from the apartment.
“What, you dog,” said
I, in a familiar, affectionate sort of way, as soon as I had him out of my
uncle’s hearing, “do you want to raise a hubbub, and put the old fellow in a
passion? Come, you rogue, your fortune’s made:--seven grown sons--seven
broadcloth suits a year (extravagantdogs they!)--shall have them all, you
shall, upon my honour: can twist the young apes round my finger, and you shall
have’em. Seven times seven is forty-nine, seven fifties is three thousand and
odd; ’ged and demmee, you’ll make a fortune out of them!”
With that I pushed the
giggling cormorant down stairs, and ran back to my uncle.
“Adieu!” said Tickle,
giving me a nod, as much as to say, “Make the most of the old gentleman;” he
then imitated the duns, and left me; a circumstance for which I was not sorry,
for I was somewhat ashamed of my uncle.
“Fine-looking young
fellow that,” said Mr. Wilkins; “must be a rich dog to lend you a thousand
dollars. But I say, Ikey--”
“Uncle Wiggins--that
is, Wilkins,” said I, “I beg you won’t call me by any such vulgar nickname as
Ikey. I can’t abide nicknames; they are horrid plebeian.”
“Ods bobs,” said my
uncle, “I call my son Sammy, Sammy and Sam too--”
“What,” said I, “have
you a son?”
“Ods bobs!” said he; “why,
didn’t you know?I say, nevvy, your dad and me was never good friends; proud as
a turkey-cock--thought me a democrat and no great shakes, but I snapped up his
sister though; and so there was never no love lost between us: never knew much
about one another, especially him. But I say, nevvy, ods bobs, don’t be a fool,
and despise like your dad; could buy him six times over if he was alive, and
don’t suppose you’re much richer; and don’t value you a new pin. Don’t pretend
you didn’t know I had a son; might as well say you didn’t know I had a
daughter.”
The old gentleman
looked somewhat incensed: I hastened to pacify him, by assuring him I had had a
violent fit of sickness and lost my memory. I then drew from him without
difficulty as much of his history and affairs as I cared to know.
Although of a vulgar
stock, his face had, somehow or other, captivated the fancy of my father’s
sister, who very ungenteelly ran off with him, and accompanied him to some interior
village of the state, where the happy swain sold tapes and sugar, that being
his profession. Here, although discountenanced and despised by his wife’s
family, he gradually amassed wealth, and in course of time mightily increased
it, by laying his hands on those four great staples of the Susquehanna, iron,
lumber, coal, and whiskey. In fine, having scraped together enough for his
purpose, he yielded to a design which his wife had first put into his plebeian
head, and which his children, as they grew up,took care to stimulate into
action: this was, to exchange his village for the metropolis, his musty
warehouses for elegant saloons, and live, during the remainder of his life, a
nabob and gentleman; and in this design, as I discovered, he expected to derive
no little aid from my humble self, who, being, as he said, a gentleman cut and
dried, and knowing to all such matters, could give him a hint or two about high
life, and help his children, the hopeful Sammy and the interesting Pattie (for
such were their horrid names), into good society. The first step of his design
he had already taken, having wound up his business and got him to Philadelphia,
with his brats, both of whom were now safely lodged in a hotel, burning to make
the acquaintance of their fashionable cousin, my distinguished self; and to
these worthy kinsfolk he proposed to carry me forthwith.
I debated the matter in
my mind: Should I acknowledge the claims of a brace of rustics with two such
names? Sammy Wilkins! Pattie Wilkins! I felt that an old coat or a patched shoe
could not more endanger my reputation, than two cousins named Sammy and Pattie.
But the old man was rich, and some good might arise from my condescension. I
agreed to go with him, and asked him at what hotel he had put up.
“Oh,” said he, “at a
mighty fine place--the What-d’-ye-call-it, in Market-street.”
“In Market-street!”
said I, and I thought his nose looked more democratic than ever. “Horrible!
vulgar beyond expression! How came you to stop in such a low place? Can’t
expect any decent man to go nigh you. Must carry you to Head’s without a moment’s
delay, or you’ll be ruined for ever.”
“Ods bobs,” said my
uncle, “it’s a very good tavern, with eating and drinking for a king; but if it’s
not fashionable, sha’n’t stay there no longer; shall go with us, nevvy, and
show us the way to What-d’-ye-call-it’s. The hack will just hold four.”
I go to a tavern in
Market-street? The idea was offensive; and ride thither, and afterward, my
three country kinsfolk with me, to Head’s, in a hackney-coach! The
Market-street tavern and the hackney-coach finished my uncle Wilkins. I
suddenly recollected a highly important engagement, which would deprive me of
the pleasure of going round with my excellent uncle that moment, to make the
acquaintance of my worthy cousins; nay, I feared it would occupy me all that
evening, being an engagement of a very peculiar nature. I would see them the
next day, when they were safely lodged at Head’s, whither I recommended Mr.
Wilkins to proceed, bag and baggage, instanter. My uncle accepted my excuses,
and agreed to follow my advice, with a ready docility that might have pleased
me, seeing that it showed the respect in which he held me; but I perceived in
it nothing more than a willingness to be put into leading-strings, arising from
his consciousness of inferiority.
I got rid of him, and
resolved I would considerthe pros and cons before compromising my reputation by
any public acknowledgment of relationship.
Then, being vastly
tired by the varied business of the day, I threw myself on my bed, where I
slept during the remainder of the day very soundly and agreeably.
I was roused about nine
o’clock in the evening by Tickle, who came, according to promise, to squire me
to Mrs. Pickup’s and the Misses Oldstyle’s; and dressing myself in Mr. Dawkin’s
best, I accompanied him forthwith to the mansion of the former.
It was yet summer, and
the season of gayety was therefore afar off. All genteel people were, or were
supposed to be, out of town, according to the rule which, at this season,
drives the gentry of London to their country-seats. The few of Philadelphia who
could imitate the lords and ladies in this particular, were now catching agues
on the Schuylkill; while the mass, consisting of those whose revenues did not
allow any rustication on their own lands, were killing sand-flies on the
seashore, or gnawing tough beef and grumbling over bad butter at some fashionable
watering-place in theinterior. There were some, however, as there always are,
who considered themselves genteel, and who stayed at home, either because they
were tired of agues, sand-flies, tough beef, and bad butter, as they freely
professed; because they really believed they were better off at home; or
because they were, like me and my friend Tickle, not rich enough to squander
their money on vanities, and so stayed at home from necessity.
Of such persons one can
always, even in summer-time, assemble enough to make a party of some kind or
other, where the contented guests can be uncommonly sociable, eat ices, and
pity their friends, who may be at the moment roasting in a ball-room at
Saratoga.
It was undoubtedly a
great misfortune that I should make my first introduction to good society at a
time when it was to be seen only in its minimum of splendour; whereby I lost
the opportunity of being dazzled to the same degree in which I found myself
capable of dazzling others. Nevertheless, I was vastly captivated by what I
saw, and for the few brief weeks that my destiny permitted me to live among the
refined and exclusive, I considered myself an uncommonly happy individual.
The reception I met at
Mrs. Pickup’s convinced me that, in entering Mr. Dawkins’s body, I had done the
wisest thing in the world; for, however much it endangered me with the tailors,
it proved the best recommendation to the ladies. I found myself ushered into a
suite of apartments magnificently furnished and lighted, and not so over crowded
(for the season was taken into consideration) but that the moschetoes had room
to exercise their talents. I thought I should be devoured by Mrs. Pickup, she
was so amazingly glad to see me; but I perceived, by a sort of instinct I had
acquired along with Dawkins’s body, that there was something plebeian about
her, although a very fine woman as far as appearances went; and, indeed, Tickle
assured me she was a mere parvenue, or upstart, whom everybody despised, and
whom no one would come nigh, were it not for her wealth, and the resolution she
avowed to give six different balls of the most splendid character in the course
of the season. She had a daughter, who was very handsome, and a decided
speculation; but I did not think much of her, especially as I found she was
already engaged to be married.
I found here that I
knew everybody, or, what was the same thing, that everybody knew me; and, with
Tickle’s help, I soon found myself as much at home with Mr. I. D. Dawkins’s
fair acquaintances as if I had known them all my life. It was still, as it had
been before, a virtue and peculiarity of my recollections, that they were
always roused by a few words of conversation with any one known to my
prototype; from which I infer, that the associations of the mind, as well as
many of its other qualities, are more dependant upon causes in the body than
metaphysicians are disposed to allow.This dependance it has been my fate to
know and feel more extensively, perhaps, than any other man that ever lived.
The spirit of Sheppard Lee was widely different from those of John H. Higginson
and I. D. Dawkins, as, I think, the reader must have already seen; and yet, no
sooner had it entered the bodies of these two individuals, than the distinction
was almost altogether lost. Certain it is, that in stepping into each, I found
myself invested with new feelings, passions, and propensities-- as it were,
with a new mind--and retaining so little of my original character, that I was
perhaps only a little better able to judge and reason on the actions performed
in my new body, without being able to avoid them, even when sensible of their
absurdity.
I do verily believe
that much of the evil and good of man’s nature arises from causes and
influences purely physical; that valour and ambition are as often caused by a
bad stomach as ill-humour by bad teeth; that Socrates, in Bonaparte’s body,
could scarce have been Socrates, although the combination might have produced a
Timoleon or Washington; and, finally, that those sages who labour to improve
the moral nature of their species, will effect their purpose only when they
have physically improved the stock. Strong minds may be indeed operated upon
without regard to bodily bias, and rendered independent of it; but ordinary
spirits lie in their bodies like water in sponges, diffused through every part,
affected by the part’s affections,changed with its changes, and so intimately
united with the fleshly matrix, that the mere cutting off of a leg, as I
believe, will, in some cases, leave the spirit limping for life.
But, as I said before,
I am not writing a dissertation on metaphysics, nor on morals either; and as my
adventures will suggest such reflections to all who care to indulge them, I
will omit them for the present, and hasten on with my story.
And here the reader may
expect of me a description of those scenes and persons in fashionable life to
which and whom I was now introduced; and if I valued the reader’s approbation
at a higher price than my own conscience and reputation, I should undoubtedly
gratify him, by putting my imagination in requisition, and painting at once
some dozen or two of such fanciful pictures as are found in novels of
fashionable life, though never, I opine, in fashionable life itself. In such I
should have occasion to represent gentlemen more elegant and witty, and ladies
more charming and ethereal, than are to be found in any of the ordinary circles
of society; but, as I am writing truth and not fiction, and represent things as
I found, not as I imagined them, I declare that the ladies and gentlemen of the
exclusive circles to which I was admitted, were very much like the ladies and
gentlemen of other circles --that is, as elegant and witty as they could be,
and as charming and celestial as it pleased Heaven: --and that, after due
exercise of judgment and memory, I cannot, in the adventures of three
wholeweeks in such society, remember a single person or thing worth describing.
For which reason I will pass on to more important matters.
Although I now look
upon those three weeks of my life as three weeks of existence out of which I
cheated myself, I was nevertheless so greatly delighted at first by the way in
which I spent them, that I had almost forgotten my uncle Wilkins; and when I
did think of him, it was only with renewed contempt and indifference. Finding,
however, that the old fellow had called upon me three or four times during my
absence from my lodgings, on as many different days, and remembering what he
had said of his riches, it occurred to me that I might as well pay him a visit,
were it only to satisfy Mr. Sniggles and Nora Magee, both of whom manifested
great uneasiness at my undutiful conduct. It occurred to me, moreover, that although
my uncle Wilkins was not a lending man, my cousin Sammy might be; and as I had
now existed four different days without a single sixpence in my pocket, and
began to be heartily ashamed of such a state of things, I thought it would be
as well to pay the rustics a visit; andputting on a new coat which Snip had
just sent me, to seal our reconciliation and secure my seven extravagant
cousins, I started off forthwith.
As my evil luck would
have it, I found the old gentleman on the point of setting out to pay me a
fifth visit, and I had the satisfaction, just as I placed my foot on the porch
of the hotel, in full view of some half a dozen respectable-looking people who
were congregated there, to receive an embrace from Mr. Samuel Wilkins, with the
old white fur hat, accompanied by a vocal salutation of, “Oho! Ikey, my boy,
and so you have come, have you? Ods bobs, but I began to think you was ashamed
of your relations.!”
“Not I,” said I; “I am
never ashamed of my relations.” And I looked around me with dignity, so that
all present might perceive I was condescending. I supposed I should find some
of the spectators giggling, but was agreeably surprised when I beheld among
them nothing but grave looks of respect. Indeed, two or three old gentlemen
that I knew by sight, and who were what you call “stanch citizens”--that is,
rich old fellows, not very genteel, but highly respected--made me low bows; and
I heard one of them, as I passed with my uncle into the hotel, whisper to another,
“It is the rich old rascal’s nephew; quite a promising young man.”
I began to feel a
greater esteem for my uncle, for I saw that others respected him. Everybody
seemed to know him and make way for him; seeing which, I grew more
condescending than ever, and instantly began to apologize for my seeming
neglect, by pleading that I had been engaged night and day in preparing the way
for the admission of him and my cousins, Sammy and Pattie, into good society.
“You want a house in a
fashionable quarter,” said I--
“Ods bobs,” said he, “yes;
and I’ve been looking all over town, from the glass-works down to the
navy-yard, and seen a power of them.”
“I flatter myself I can
suit you,” said I, “and better than you can yourself. Besides,” said I, “I have
been looking for carriages and horses.”
“Why,” said my uncle, “it’s
expensive keeping horses in a city; and I was against it; but there’s Pattie
says we can’t do without ’em.”
“Exactly so,” said I: “you
must live like a gentleman, or there’s no getting or keeping in society. And,
besides, I have been stirring up the beaux and belles to come and see my
cousin, the fair--I say, uncle, eged, has she no other name than Pattie?”
“Yes,” said my uncle
Wilkins, “there’s Abby, --that’s Abigail--Martha Abigail Wilkins; called her
after her grandmother and aunt, and hoped aunt Abby would leave her something;
but she didn’t.”
Martha Abigail Wilkins!
Worse and worse; I despaired of doing any thing, if I even wished it, for a
creature with such a name.
But what I had done--that
is, what I said I had done (for I had done nothing), had produced a great
effect on my uncle, and put him into such a good-humour with me, that he seized
me by the hand, swore I was the right sort of a dog after all, and, reaching
the door of his private parlour, where the fair Martha Abigail was sitting, he
kicked it open, crying aloud,
“Here, Pattie, you
puss, here’s your cousin Ikey, the dandy--as fine a whole-hog fellow as ever
you saw--ods bobs, give ’m a buss.”
I looked upon the
unsophisticated rustic who was called upon to manifest her breeding in such an
agricultural style; and, upon my soul, I was quite surprised to find in her,
the aforesaid Pattie Abigail, one of the nicest little creatures I had ever
laid eyes on, of a most genteel figure, tolerably well dressed, considering she
had been brought up in the country, and with a sweet, prudish face, that was
quite agreeable to look on.
She smiled and she
blushed, then laughed and blushed again; but, without waiting to be bidden a
second time, tripped up to me, gave me both her hands, and saying, “Cousin
Ikey, how do you do?” with a voice that was charming in every word save
one--the infernal “Ikey”--she very innocently turned her cheek up to be
saluted.
I felt myself called
upon to give her a lesson in politeness, and therefore put my lips to her hand,
saying, “Cousin P--P--Pattie--ehem, the girls will all call her
petty-patty--Petty-patty Wilkins--I beg your pardon; but it is quite ungenteel
and vulgar to kiss a lady; that is to say, in common cases. But--” As I spoke,
I admired her beauty the more, and began to think the etiquette in such cases
was absurd--“But, as we are cousins, I think that alters the case entirely.”
And with that I paid my
respects to her cheek, and, upon my soul, was rather gratified than otherwise.
Nay, and upon an instinct which I know not whether I owed to my soul or body, I
made an offer to repeat the ceremony, that I might be as condescending as
possible; when the little minx, to my surprise and indignation, lifted up one
of the hands I had dropped, and absolutely boxed me on the ear, starting away
at the same time, and saying, with a most mischievous look of retaliation,
“I reckon I know
manners as well as anybody.”
“Ged, and upon my soul!”
said I, and marched up to the glass to restore my left whisker to its beauty,
for she had knocked it out of its equilibrium, while my uncle Wilkins fell foul
of her, and scolded her roundly for her bad behaviour.
“It don’t signify, pa,”
said the amiable Pattie, bursting into tears, “I served cousin Ikey no worse
than cousin Ikey served me; for when I wanted him to kiss me he wouldn’t; and
if he had boxed my ear it wouldn’t have been half so bad; for it was very rude
of him not to kiss me, and say it was vulgar, and he can’t deny it.”
I have mentioned
before, I think, the surprising facility women seem to have of turning the
tablesupon a man, in any contest that may happen between the sexes; for, let a
man be never so much in the right, my head for it, the woman will soon prove him
to be in the wrong.
I found the truth of
the maxim on the present occasion; for there was the pretty Pattie, who had
just shocked my sensibilities, wounded my self-love, violated my dignity, and
disordered my whisker, by a buffet on the cheek, extremely well laid on,
considering the youth and sex of the bestower, now weeping and bewailing the
injury I had done her, in moralizing over a kiss before taking it. It occurred
to me she was an uncommon goose; but she looked so wonderfully handsome,
pouting her lips with such a beautiful pettishness, that I was convinced I had
treated her very badly; for which reason I stepped up to her, and begged her
pardon so penitently, that she relented and forgave me, and we were soon in a
good-humour with one another.
She seemed to me to be
an odd creature, disposed to be whimsical and funny, and I rather feared she
was, at bottom, witty. I say, I feared she was witty; and lest the reader
should draw wrong inferences from the expression, I think it right to inform
him, that, while recording my adventures in the body of Mr. I. D. Dawkins, I
feel my old Dawkins habits revived so strongly in my feelings, that I cannot
avoid giving some of the colouring of his character to the history of his body.
I do not presume to say what women should be, or what they should not: in
confessing a fear that my cousin Pattie was witty, I only record the horror
with which I, while a dandy, in common with all others of the class, regarded
any of the sex who were smarter or more sensible than myself.
My cousin Pattie was,
then, odd, whimsical, and, I feared, witty; but that remained to be proved. She
certainly acted in a manner highly unsophisticated, which arose from her youth
(for my uncle told me she was not yet eighteen), and her country breeding. She
had divers rusticities of speech, and a frankness of spirit that would at any
moment burst out in weeping and wailing, or a fit of romping; all which was
horridly ungenteel, and a great objection to genteel people taking notice of
her.
But, on the other hand,
she was a positive beauty; and although she slouched about sometimes, when
forgetful, her movements were commonly graceful and lady-like.
My judgment was
therefore favourable: beauty, grace, good clothes, and a grammatical way of
speaking, were, as far as I knew, the only requisites for a fine woman, and I
thought it was possible to make her one. The two first requisites she already
possessed: good clothes were to be had of a good milliner; and as for her
conversation, I flattered myself I could, in a few lessons, teach her to subdue
all redundances; for in that particular she wanted nothing but pruning.
Having made these
observations in the course of a ten minutes conversation, I perceived I had no
longer any reason to be ashamed of her; but, on the contrary, to congratulate
myself on the relationship. Then, permitting myself to be affectionate and
frank, as a near kinsman should, I gave her freely to understand, that, with a
little advice and training, which I would undertake to give her in a few
lessons, she would be fit to shine in the very best society: an admission that
set my uncle into an ecstasy of delight and triumph, while it somewhat
discomposed the fair Pattie. She gave me a hearty stare (a thing I was glad to
see, for it looked lady-like), then coloured (a circumstance I did not approve
so much, since blushing is girlish and ungenteel), and then burst out a
laughing, and concluded by seizing upon my hand, giving it a yeomanly shake,
and saying,
“Very well, cousin
Ikey, you shall be my schoolmaster, and teach me all you know; and, as you say,
I think you can teach me in a very few lessons.”
And here she looked as
meek, and quiet, and almost as sanctimonious, as any saint I ever saw of a
Sunday.
“Very good,” said I; “and
the first lesson I will give you is, never to call me ‘Ikey’ again, for that’s
vulgar; but always ‘Mr. Dawkins,’ or just plain ‘cousin;’ or, as we are so
nearly related, why, I don’t care if you call me by my middle name, ‘Dulmer.’ ”
“Wouldn’t ‘Dully’ be
better?” said she, as sweetly as could be: “it’s more affectionate, and cousins
ought to be affectionate.”
“That’s very true,”
said I; and, upon my soul, I thought her mouth was the handsomest I had ever
seen; “it is very true, but it don’t do to be too familiar; and, besides, Dully
don’t sound a whit better than Pattie. I wish to ged you had a better name than
that; and yet it is the best of them all, for ‘Martha’ is kitchen-like, and ‘Abigail’
wash-womanly--”
“And Pat,” said my
cousin--
“Pat!” said I, struck
with horror--
“Yes, Pat!” said she,
looking as if she would cry again; “it is the most odious of nicknames, and
there’s my brother Sam, who calls me so all day long; and there’s pa, who is
not much better. But I say, cousin, I hope you’ll take them to schooling too. I
won’t say any thing about pa; but I reckon there’s none of us will be the worse
for a little rubbing up.”
“Don’t say ‘reckon,’ ”
said I, “nor ‘Sam’ neither. Ged, you have horrid names among you, but we’ll do
the best we can. Pattie--Miss Pattie Wilkins; well, the name is not so very
bad. Asfor your brother, you must always call him ‘brother;’ occasionally you
may say ‘Wilkins,’ and it will sound aristocratic, as being a family name. But
I say, uncle, we can’t do any thing till we have you in your own house; and, if
you mean to pass for a man of quality, it must be a grand one-- that is, as
grand as can be had without building. I say, uncle, if you please, what do you
hold yourself worth?”
“Ods bobs!” said my
uncle, bristling up, “what’s that any man’s business? Never blab a man’s
capital, for--”
“Oh,” said Pattie, “Pa’s
always thinking about trade and shop-keeping; but I’ll tell you, for I know all
about it, for he told me six months ago, and I know. He’s worth two--” and here
the little beauty looked as if she designed to make me her confidant at once,
and swell my very soul with the greatness of her revealment--“he’s worth two
hundred and ninety thousand dollars; and when he dies he is to leave me half. A’n’t
it grand?”
“To leave you half! one
hundred and forty-five thousand dollars?” said I, so confounded by a sudden
idea that entered my mind that I could not even conceal it. “Hang it, if that’s
the case, but I shall certainly marry you, and snap up that hundred and
forty-five myself.”
“Would you?” said the
imp, looking so lovely, and innocent, and willing that I positively threw my
arms around her neck, as if the matter were already settled.
“Ods bobs!” said my
uncle, “none of your jokes here, nevvy!”
As for Pattie, she
jumped out of my arms, though apparently more pleased with the rudeness than
with my former want of enthusiasm, and ran laughing to a chair.
“None of your jokes
here, nevvy, I say,” cried Mr. Wilkins; “and don’t talk to Pattie about
marrying, for she has had enough of that already.”
“I ha’n’t, pa,” said
the daughter, beginning to cry again; “you’re always twitting me with Danny.
But I’m sure, if you’re willing, I’d as lief marry my cousin Ikey--that is,
cousin Dulmer-- as anybody.”
“Who’s Danny?” said I.
My uncle looked black,
but Pattie answered boldly,
“Why, my sweetheart, to
be sure--Danny Baker--one of the truest sweethearts you ever saw; and oh, so
handsome! But he was nothing but one of pa’s clerks, and so we turned him off
between us; and because I took his part, and said it was no great harm in him
to like me, pa is always twitting me about him, and I can’t abide it. If I am
to be twitted about everybody that likes me, I should like to know where will
be the end of it?”
I perceived that my
little cousin had a good opinion of herself, which was proper enough; but I
reprobated the good-will she extended to her admirer, telling her that all
clodhoppers were to be despised, and that she must now think of beingliked by
none but fine gentlemen. My counsel, as I discovered afterward, was peculiarly
acceptable to my uncle, and greatly increased his respect for me; and as for
Pattie, she dried her eyes, and said “she had as much spirit as anybody, but
Danny Baker was no fool, for all we might say of him.”
In short, the interview
was much more satisfactory than I had dared to anticipate; and finding my uncle
and cousin were eager to have my instructions and assistance, so as to begin
the world as soon and with as much eclat as possible, I summoned my wisdom, and
laid down the law to them forthwith. A house was to be immediately had; and
recollecting the state of Mr. Periwinkle Smith’s affairs, I recommended that my
uncle should make proposals for his dwelling, which was just the house
required, and which I supposed Mr. Smith, or the sheriff for him, would soon
bring to the hammer. Nay, in the exuberance of my affection, I offered to begin
the negotiation myself, and visit Mr. Periwinkle Smith that day; whereby I
might have an opportunity to return my thanks for his friendly assistance at
the Schuylkill, without exciting any false hopes in the bosom of his daughter,
which I feared might be the result if I went without an object.
I then discoursed on
the subject of carriages and horses, furniture, tailors, and mantuamakers, and
with such effect, that I perceived I should have the control of all my uncle’s
affairs, directinghis expenses, and making all his purchases; which I saw would
be highly advantageous in reinstating my credit, even if it led to no better
profit.
Having debated these
matters to my satisfaction and theirs, I was about taking my leave, when my
cousin Sammy unexpectedly entered the apartment.
His appearance struck
me dumb, and filled me with mingled terror and despair. What could I do with
such a scarecrow? His appearance was death to my hopes of making the family
fashionable. He was a raw youth of twenty or twentyone, but six feet high, long-legged,
lantern-jawed, and round-shouldered. He wore a white hat, like his father, but
stuck upon his head with a happy contempt of order and symmetry; and his coat
hung down in a straight line from his shoulders, as if cut to fit the wall of a
house. He walked with a lazy, grave swagger, indicative of vast serenity of
mind and self-regard, and--until I cured him of the habit--with both hands in
his pockets. There was not an ounce of brain in his whole head, big as it was;
though, from the gravity with which he stared and whistled one in the face (for
staring andwhistling were two of his greatest characteristics), it might have
been supposed otherwise. I will not say the clown was ugly in visage or
deformed in person; but he was a slouch from head to foot. One could see at a
look that he considered himself a gentleman, that he lived in the country, and
that the highest exercise of his gentility had been to stalk about from one
mud-hole to another, with his hands in his pockets.
He did not seem at all
daunted by my appearance, but, having surveyed me with his great staring eyes,
he dragged one of his fists out of his pocket and gave me a friendly grasp,
very much like the pinch of a bear. “Glad to see you; hope you’re well,” he
said, and said no more, but remained observing me with extreme gravity during
the remainder of the conference. When I got up to depart he rose also, and,
though I could have well dispensed with such an escort, attended me to the
door. He uttered not a word until we came within view of the bar, when the
great oaf opened his lips, and said, with an extremely knowing look, “I say,
Ikey, my boy, suppose we take a smaller?”
“A smaller!” said I,
indignantly; “gentlemen in a city never drink smallers.”
“Well, then,” said the
goose, “I don’t care if we go the whole gill.”
“Come,” said I,
commiserating his ignorance, “you must never more talk of such things. None but
vulgarians drink strong liquors; slings, cocktails, and even julaps are fit
only for bullies. Gentlemen never drink any thing but wine.”
“Wine’s small stuff,”
said my kinsman, with great equanimity; “but I’m for any thing that’s genteel,
and dad says you’re the boy for showing us. But, od rabbit it, it’s a hard
thing to play the gentleman in a place where you a’n’t up to it; but I say,
now, how do you think we’ll do--me and Pat?”
I could scarce avoid
laughing in the booby’s face, he asked his question with such simplicity and
complacency. I perceived that, notwithstanding his lazy serenity and stolid
gravity, he was as anxious to be made genteel as either of the others, and
quite as ready to submit to my guidance. I told him I had no doubt he would do
very well when I had polished him a little, which I would soon do; and I
resolved to begin the task without delay. I carried him to a private apartment,
ordered a carriage, and a bottle of Chateau-Margaux to amuse us while it was
getting ready, and gave him to understand I would immediately take him to a
tailor’s; and this I did in a very short time, to the infinite delight of my
friend Snip, whom I ordered to make three or four different suits for him,
without troubling myself to ask his opinion about either. I then carried him in
the same way to a hatter, shoemaker, and man-milliner, leaving the jeweller,
watchmaker, and so on, for a future occasion.
These important matters
being accomplished, greatly to my own advantage, for I took care tospeak of my
uncle Wilkins in a way to produce the strongest effect, I ordered the coachman
to drive up to Mr. Periwinkle Smith’s, whither I thought I might as well
proceed while I had a coach to carry me. I gave my gawky cousin to understand
my business was to buy the house for his father, at which he expressed much
satisfaction (for everybody in Philadelphia knows the house is a very fine
one), and a desire to help me examine it; but telling him there were many fine
ladies there, who must not see him till he was properly dressed, I charged him
to wait for me in the coach until I returned.
I pulled the bell with
a most dignified jerk, and asked for Mr. Smith. But the servant, who grinned
with approbation as at an old acquaintance, and doubtless considered that he
knew more about the matter than myself, as Philadelphia servants usually do,
ushered me into the presence of Mr. Smith’s fair daughter.
“Ah!” said I to myself,
as I cast my eye around the apartment, and saw that her levee consisted of but
a single beau--a stranger whom I did notknow, but who, I learned afterward, was
a young millionaire from Boston--“the world begins to suspect the mortgages,
and friends are falling away. Poor dear Miss Smith!”--And I felt great
compassion for her.
She seemed somewhat
surprised at my appearance, and I thought she looked confused. She was a
marvellous fine creature, and I was quite sorry she was not rich.
I saw she had a
sneaking kindness for me yet; but it was not right to encourage her. I
hastened, therefore, to express my thanks for the sympathy which I had been
informed she had bestowed on me, on the memorable occasion of my dip in the
Schuylkill; and regretted that the indisposition consequent upon that disaster
had prevented my calling earlier. I had not met the fair lady at Mrs. Pickup’s
or the Misses Oldstyle’s, or at the other two place where I had figured during
the last four evenings; and although it was highly probable she knew my
indisposition had not prevented my going to these places, yet my not seeing her
made the excuse perfectly genteel and fair. Yet she looked at me intently--I
thought sadly and reproachfully--for a moment, and then, recovering herself,
expressed her pleasure to see me so well restored, and ended, with great
self-possession, by presenting me to her new admirer. After this her manner was
cooler, and I thought her pique rendered her a little neglectful. It was
certain she wished me to observe that she had a high opinionof the new
Philander; a circumstance to which I was not so indifferent as I ought to have
been. But, in truth, she was an elegant soul, and the more I looked at her the
more I regretted she was not a fortune. I felt myself growing sentimental, and,
to check the feeling, I resolved to proceed to business.
I had no sooner asked
after the old gentleman, and expressed a desire to see him, than she gave me a
look that bewildered me. It expressed surprise and inquiry, mingled with what I
should have fancied contempt, could I have believed anybody could entertain
such a feeling for me. She rang the bell, ordered my desire to be conveyed to
her father, and in a few moments I was requested to walk up stairs to his
study, where I found him in company with a gentleman of the law and a broker,
whose face I knew, and surrounded with papers.
“Ah!” said I to myself,
“things are now coming to a crisis; he is making an assignment.”
The gentleman of the
law and the broker took their departure, and Mr. Periwinkle Smith gave me a
hard look. I began to suspect what he was thinking of; he was perhaps looking
for me to make a declaration in relation to his fair daughter.
That he might not be
troubled with such expectation long, I instantly opened my business, and gave
him to understand I came to make proposals (he opened his eyes and grinned) for
his house (he looked astounded), which, I had heard, he was about to dispose
of.
“Indeed!” said he, and
then fell to musing a while. “Pray, Mr. Dawkins,” said he, “who sent you upon
this wise errand?”
I did not like his
tone, but I answered I came on the part of my uncle, Samuel Wilkins, of
Wilkinsbury Hall--for I thought it as well to make my kiusman’s name sound
lordly.
“Very good,” said he; “but
what made you suppose I intended to sell my property?”
I liked this question
still less than the other, and mumbled out something about “common report,” and
the “general talk of my acquaintance.”
“Ah!” said he, “now I
understand,” giving me a grin which I did not. “Let us be frank with one
another. There was something said about ‘mortgages,’ was there not?--a heavy
weight on my poor estate?”
Thinking it was useless
to mince the matter, I acknowledged that such was the report.
“And it is from the
influence of that report I am to understand some of the peculiarities of your--
that is to say, it is to that I am to attribute your present application?
Really, Mr. Dawkins, I am afraid I can’t oblige you; my house I like very well,
and-- But I’ll admit you to a little secret;” and smiling with great suavity,
he laid his hand on a pile of papers. “Here,” said he, “are mortgages, and
other bonds, to the amount of some seventy thousand dollars; they are my
property, and not mortgages on my property. The truth is (and, as you are an
old friend, I don’t scruple to tell you),that having a little loose cash which
I did not know what to do with, I took the advice of a friend, and invested it
in the form in which you now see it, and I believe it is very safe. The story
of the mortgages was quite true, only it was told the wrong way.”
I was petrified, and
stood staring on the old gentleman with awe and amazement.
“Some people,” said he,
very good-naturedly, “might doubt the propriety, and even the honourableness,
of a private gentleman investing money in this way; but stocks are at a high
premium, and many unsafe, and money can’t lie idle:--I hope you are satisfied:
I am quite sorry I can’t oblige your uncle. My house, as I said, I like
extremely well; and I have, besides, promised it as a wedding-present to my
daughter.”
Oh, ye gods of Greece
and Rome! a wedding-present to his daughter! I resolved to make her a proposal
without delay, and I thought I might as well break matters to the old
gentleman.
“Your daughter,” said
I, “your beloved and excellent daughter--”
“Will doubtless always
be happy to welcome her old friend and admirer, Mr. Dawkins,” said he; and I
thought he looked beautiful--though I never thought so before. He could not
have spoken more plainly, I thought, if he had said “marry her,” at once. I
took my leave, intending to make love to her on the spot.
“I will have the
pleasure to see you to the door,”said the old gentleman, and to the door he did
see me. I do not well know how it happened; but instead of entering the parlour
again, I found myself led to the front door by the courteous Mr. Smith, and
bowed handsomely out, to the great satisfaction of my cousin Sammy, who
regarded proceedings from the carriage window.
“Good morning,” said
Mr. Periwinkle Smith; “I can’t sell my daughter’s house, but I should be glad
to have you for a neighbour; and, now I recollect it, there’s Higginson the
brewer’s house over the way there advertised for sale, and I am told it is very
well finished.”
“So am I,” said I to
myself, as the door closed on my face--“finished unutterably.” It occurred to
me I was turned out of the house; and the suspicion was soon very perfectly
confirmed. I called on the fair Miss Smith the next day, and, though I saw her
by accident through the window, I was met by the cursed fib--“not at home.” The
same thing was told me seven days in succession, and on the eighth I saw, to my
eternal wo and despair, her marriage with my Boston rival announced in the
papers. He lives in Philadelphia, and can confirm my story. But this is
anticipating my narrative.
“I say, Dawkins,” cried
my cousin Sammy (I had cured him of the vulgar ‘Ikey’), “what does the old
codger say?”
These words, bawled by
the rustic from the carriage window, woke me from a trance into which Ihad
fallen, the moment Mr. Periwinkle Smith shut the door in my face.
“Didn’t he say there
was a house over the way?”
I remembered the
words,--my own house for sale! I knew it well; it was just the thing
wanted,--an elegant house, provided genteel people were in it. I was on the
point of running over and securing it, when I remembered Mrs. Higginson. A cold
sweat bedewed my limbs. “No!” said I, “I will go to Tim Doolittle--I can face
him.”
To make matters
short--for I have a long story to tell--I drove up to Higginson’s brewery (it
is now Doolittle and Snagg’s, or was, when I heard last of it), saw my late
brother-in-law, whom I thought a very plebeian body, and made such progress
with him, that in three days’ time (for my Margaret had gone to mourn in the
country) the house changed owners, and my uncle Wilkins marched into it as
master, followed by Sammy and Pattie.
Three days after I had
established my uncle in his new house, the fair Miss Smith was married.
It was a great blow to
me, and I mused with melancholy on the fickleness of the sex, wonderingwhat it
was in woman’s nature that enabled her so easily to change from one love to
another. I considered myself very badly used; and the more I thought of the
wedding-present, and the seventy thousand dollars in bonds and mortgages, the
more deeply did I feel my loss. I read the announcement of her marriage in the
newspaper, cursed her inconstancy and hard-heartedness, and gave myself up to
grief the whole morning. She had certainly used me ill, but by dinner-time I
remembered I had served her pretty much in the same way.
Besides, my cousin
Pattie (I always dined with my uncle Wilkins, of course, and intended soon to
live with him altogether) looked uncommonly handsome, and “Who knows,” said I
to myself, “whether she won’t have more than Miss Smith, after all?” In
addition to this great consolation, I had another in a few days; and the two
together quite comforted me for the loss of Periwinkle’s daughter. But of this
in its place.
In three days’ time, as
I have mentioned, I had my uncle Wilkins in his new house, and was busy
polishing the family. But the task was harder than I supposed. The rusticities
of my uncle were inveterate; and as for Sammy, the only change I could effect
in him was such as the tailor effected for me. I found him a clown, and a clown
I left him. I should have given him up after the first day, had it not been
that his father kept him pretty well supplied with pocket-money; which was an
advantage to me, for I never could borrow any thingof my uncle. I therefore
treated him civilly, and carried him about to divers places, taking good care,
however, that he should not fall into the hands of my friend Tickle, or any
other poor dandy.
My cousin Pattie was
more docile; and I perceived that as soon as I should cure her of a mischievous
habit she had of playing tricks upon everybody in the house, and myself too,
upon occasions, she would be fit for any society.
As soon as my uncle had
procured a carriage, (and I took care it should be a good one--I made an effort
to buy my fine old thousand-dollar bays, but Mr. Doolittle would not part with
them), I took her out airing and shopping, to teach her how to behave in
public; and I contracted with Mrs. Pickup, who lived close by, and who it was
supposed, on account of her six balls, would make a favourable sensation, to
chaperon her for the season. I took care to bestow her patronage among the
aunts and sisters of my tradespeople in such a way as to advance my own credit;
and thinking it would be to my advantage to have such a friend near her, I
recommended Nora Magee to her for a maid, although Nora was not quite so
genteel as I should have wished.
In short, I did every
thing that was proper to prepare her way for the approaching season; and as
soon as I thought her fit to receive company, went round among all the leading
fashionables, and requested them to visit her.
It was here that the invaluable
nature of myservices on behalf of my country kinsfolk was shown, as I took care
to make them understand; for without me to help them, or some other equally
genteel person, my uncle and cousins might as well have tried to get into
Congress as into good society. My request was not granted until I had answered
ten thousand different questions, and removed as many scruples, on the part of
the monarchs of the mode. There were a thousand reasons why my uncle’s family
should be denied admission into that elegant society they were so ambitious to
enter; and nothing but the force of my recommendations ensured them success.
My labours on this
occasion made me familiar with the principles upon which republican
aristocratic society is founded; and as these principles are not universally
understood, even in America, I think I can do nothing better than explain them,
for the benefit of all my young and aspiring readers.
The pretensions of any
individual to enter the best society of the republic depend upon his respectability;
and the measure of this is determined by the character of his profession, if he
have one--if not, by that of his father. I never knew even the most exclusive
and fastidious of examiners to carry his scrutiny so far back as a grandfather;
for, indeed, all our grandfathers in America were pretty much alike, and the
sooner we forget them the better.
The first profession in
point of dignity is that ofa gentleman, who has nothing to do but to spend his
revenue, if he has one. There are some gentlemen well received in good society
who live upon their wits; but they are born in it. Poor gentlemen, not already
in society, had better not try to get into it; for rich men who have romantic
daughters are afraid of them. A gentleman, then, always stands a fair chance of
being admitted; and if his father was of a respectable profession, he is
received with open arms. The preference accorded to this class is just, since
founded upon nature. All occupations are more or less disgraceful; a strong
proof of which is found in the fact that all primitive nations, such as the
Hottentots, and North American Indians, look upon them with contempt,
considering idleness and war as the only business for gentlemen. Providence,
indeed, ordained that men should live by the sweat of their brows; but it is
horrid ungenteel to do so.
The next profession in
point of dignity is law; and lawyers, as I may say, form the true effective
nobility of America; for though the mere gentlemen deem themselves higher and
purer, they are pretty generally considered by others as only the lady-dowagers
of society. But the lady-dowagers sometimes consider the gentility of lawyers
doubtful.
The third profession is
that of arms, which owes its consideration mainly to the women; who, although
the ministers of love and mercy to man, are wondrous fond of those who deal in
bloodand gunpowder. These are the only respectable professions in America.
Divinity, physic,
merchandise, agriculture, and politics, are the only others from which a man is
occasionally allowed to enter good society. But they are considered low, and it
is only peculiar circumstances which can give any of their followers a claim to
rise.
I have said that the
claim of the gentlemen to consider themselves the highest class is founded in
nature. They form the nucleus of society, and around them, as they are
admitted, the members of the other professions establish the grand order of
fashion. According to their creed, law is a respectable profession, because it
keeps down the mob, or people, by keeping them constantly by the ears, and
because it makes money; and arms they hold to be reputable, because it does the
same thing, and paves the way to the presidency. Divinity and physic they
consider to be naturally low occupations, since their provinces are only to
take care of dirty souls and bodies. Merchandise is denounced, since it
consists of both buying and selling, whereas, buying is the only part of
traffic that is fit for a gentleman. Agriculture is contemned, because there
are so many clodhoppers engaged in it; and politics, because it demands
consociation with the mob.
In these five
professions, however, certain fortunate circumstances may give a claim to
notice. Parsons (who are often doctors of divinity and alwaysreverends) and
physicians are titled gentry, and this counts in their favour; and the same
thing may be said of politicians, when they rise to be secretaries of
departments or foreign ministers, or become renowned as orators: great
distinction will secure them favour, for they are then people that people look
at. Merchants are allowed to be respectable as soon as they are worth a
million, provided they have two or three daughters and no sons, and are willing
to be splendid in their entertainments. An agriculturist of our own latitudes
can never expect to be made respectable; but a planter of cotton or tobacco, who
owns a hundred negroes, and puts the name of his farm or the county he lives in
after his own, has as good a chance as any.
All other classes are
vulgar and mechanical, and therefore ineligible. Men of science and genius are
excluded on account of their manners, which are outlandish, and their arrogant
display of superiority, which is disagreeable; and as for the actors, dancers,
and singers that are sometimes met with, the two first are admitted, because
they are foreign and famous, and the last, because they bring good music for
nothing.
From this exposition of
the code of society, it will be seen that my uncle Wilkins could boast but
slender claims to an introduction. His occupation had been vulgar, and he had
not made money enough to ennoble him. I trebled his two hundred and ninety
thousand, as is usual, but I could notdeny that his son was named Sammy, and
his daughter Pattie.
But what spoke highly
in his favour was, that whatever had been his profession, he had now abandoned
it, with the praiseworthy intention of living a gentleman during the remainder
of his life; and what was also advantageous, he had pursued it at such a
distance from the haunts of fashion that his new friends might, with the
greatest propriety, affect an entire ignorance of it.
His having a daughter,
too, and but one son to divide with her his eight hundred and seventy
thousand--that is to say, his two hundred and ninety-- was also a strong
recommendation to those mammas who had sons to provide for; and his
determination to indulge the fair Pattie in as many balls and parties as she
desired, was another circumstance to propitiate favour.
But, to crown all, I
countenanced him; and that settled the matter. In a few days’ time there was
such a rattle and trampling at the brewer’s door as had never been known
before. The whole square was in commotion, being choked up with carriages; and
such was the throng of genteel people rushing into the house, that an
unsophisticated dealer in second-hand furniture, supposing there was an auction
to be held, stalked into the parlour, and electrified everybody by wondering,
in the way of a question not addressed to any particular person, “when the sale
was to begin?”
In short, the thing was
settled; my uncle wasdubbed a gentleman, and every occurrence went to show that
in the approaching season his rank would be confirmed, and his daughter
recognised as a belle by everybody in town.
But before that time a
change came o’er the spirit of my fate, and-- But I shall confess the whole
affair to the reader.
My uncle Wilkins, it
seems, was not merely ambitious to get into good society; he was ambitious to
have his daughter married, and, as he said, into the best family in the land:
an object not very difficult to compass, considering the fortune he intended to
leave her. But my uncle was resolved her husband should be rich as well as
distinguished; and I discovered the old curmudgeon had an extreme horror of
poverty. Perhaps one of the strongest reasons for his leaving the country was a
fear he had lest his adorable daughter should be snapped up by that aforesaid
Danny Baker, whom my cousin had pronounced “one of the truest and handsomest
sweethearts I ever saw;” although I never saw him at all, nor, indeed, any
other extremely true and handsome sweetheart of the malegender in all my life;
for those that are true are ugly, and those that are handsome are as uncertain
as politics. I say this was my uncle’s fear, and, indeed, he confessed to me
his belief that Pattie had really a sneaking kindness for the young rustic; for
which reason he was anxious to have her married as soon as possible.
I may here observe,
that if a bachelor is to judge of the excellence of love by the character of
its vocabulary, he will discover no stirring reason to lament his
insensibility. All the expressions on the subject go to show that there is
something mean and contemptible in the tender passion, which men otherwise
profess to be the most heavenly of the passions--as if, indeed, heaven had any
thing to do with any of them. The moment a man begins to think a woman
uncommonly charming, he is said to cast “a sheep’s eye” on her; when he feels a
friendship for her, it becomes “a sneaking kindness;” and the moment his heart
is in a hubbub, he is “deep in the mire.” From these terms, and others that
might be mentioned, it results as I have said, namely--that men and women who
have experienced the tender passion, are, notwithstanding their pretences to
the contrary, really ashamed of it; that a lover is a sheep and a sneaking
fellow, ordained to grovel in the mud at the feet of his mistress; and,
finally, that a bachelor has no good reason to execrate his stars for keeping
him single.
But I had other notions
when I was in Mr. I. D. Dawkins’s body.
I was entirely of my
uncle’s way of thinking, and proposed to take her myself; to which my uncle
replied, in some perturbation, “None of your jokes there, Ikey, my boy;” and
gave me plainly to understand that was a thing he would never think of. Nay,
the proposition seemed to him so unpalatable, that I was compelled to pretend I
had made it entirely in jest; though I demanded, supposing I had been serious,
what objection he could have to me. “Oh, none in the world,” said he, “except
your being so near of blood; for a cousin-german is almost the same as a
brother.”
I understood the old
hunks better than he thought; he had, somehow or other, found out that I had
spent my fortune, and was therefore, in that particular, no better off than Mr.
Danny Baker. I saw, too, clearly enough, that he only valued me as a sort of
stepping-stone into society; and that, having once had all the advantage of me
he could, he would be ready to forget all my benefits. The curmudgeon! he had
found out I had been borrowing money of his son Sammy, and he was already
longing for the time to come when he might safely discard me.
I resolved to marry
Pattie in spite of him; and began to cast about for some device by which to
secure her share of his two hundred and ninety thousand, which it was more than
probable he would withhold, in the event of her marrying against his will. This
device I soon hit upon.
I told him there was,
among all my acquaintance, not above one man whom I could recommend as a
husband for Pattie; for though there were dozens of genteel young fellows,
fortunes were by no means so plentiful. My friend Tickle, I assured him, was
just the man,--a little gay, to be sure; indeed, quite dissipated; and, what
was worse, an enemy to matrimony; which was the more extraordinary, as by
marrying he might come at once into possession of a splendid fortune. And
thereupon I told him that Jack’s father, who was a saint in his way, and a
bigot, to reclaim him, had, by will (for I assured him the poor man was dead),
bequeathed his superb estate to him only upon condition that he married before
the expiration of five years; failing in which, the whole property, now in the
hands of trustees, would revert to other persons, with the exception of a
shabby annuity of a thousand a year. The five years, I told my uncle Wilkins,
were now nearly expired, and Jack, being in some alarm, was already expressing
an inclination to seek a spouse; but she must be a rich one, otherwise he would
never think of her.
This story, which I
fabricated for the purpose, produced a strong effect upon my uncle Wilkins; and
I concluded it by recommending he should without delay settle half his fortune
upon Pattie, by legal grant of dedi et concessi, as the lawyers call it, and
register the same; in which event, I would do all I could to bring the marriage
about, not doubting that we should succeed, since Pattie was, as I averred,
just the sort of girl that Tickle liked.
My uncle was rather
dumbfounded at the last proposal, and swore he would do no such thing. “He was
not going,” he said, “to bribe anybody to take his girl off his hands, not he;
she should have her share when he was dead, and if she married to his liking,
why she should have something before. I might bring my friend Tickle to see her
if I would, and he would see what he thought of him.”
My uncle put a bold
face upon the matter, but I perceived he was eager to make the acquaintance of
my friend Tickle, and would be soon brought to reason. And, indeed, after
having seen the intended son-in-law, and listened some half a dozen times over
to my arguments, he opened his heart so far as to settle the sum of forty
thousand dollars upon Pattie, which--or rather the yearly interest of that sum,
for the crafty old sly-boots took care to constitute himself trustee for the
girl, and retain the principal in his own hands--he conditioned to pay her
after her marriage.
I was provoked at his
stinginess; but as no better terms could be had, I thought I might as well
bring the matter to a conclusion, trusting that something better would turn up
after my marriage.
I say my marriage, for
I had no thoughts of bestowing forty thousand dollars, or the interest thereof,
upon my friend Tickle. I made him my confidant in the matter, and easily
prevailed upon him to assist me in deceiving my uncle Wilkins, by appearing to
Pattie in the light of a wooer. As forPattie herself, who, I was persuaded, had
fallen in love with me at first sight, I made her a declaration, which diverted
and delighted her beyond expression; and revealing to her also my project to
secure her an independence, she agreed to do her part in the play, pretend a
great fancy for Mr. Tickle, and run away with me, the moment her father should
make her the grant in question.
The grant was made, as
I mentioned before; but by that time I was in a dilemma, having made an
engagement to elope with another lady, who was in some respects highly
attractive, and had fallen devouringly in love with me. Indeed, I may say, she
made me the first offer, though it was not leap-year; but her situation excused
her, especially as it was I she made love to. She was, the reader will be
surprised to learn, the daughter of old Skinner, or Goldfist, the usurer; and
she was rather handsome than otherwise. The engagement was brought about as
will be shown in the next chapter.
My creditors, looking
with great certainty for their money, now that my long-talked-of uncle had got
to town, having waited a couple of weeks forpayment in vain, began to besiege
me in a highly importunate way; and as no assistance was to be had of my uncle,
and Sammy’s purse was not so well filled as I could have wished, I was reduced
to great straits.
Conversing on this
subject with my friend Tickle, he advised me to visit old Goldfist, as I (that
is, my prototype, the true Dawkins) had often done before, and see what could
be had out of him on the strength of my projected nuptials.
The advice being as
good as could be had (for Tickle’s pockets were as empty as my own), I
proceeded to the old fellow’s house after nightfall-- for I did not care to be
observed.
Having knocked at the
door, it was opened by no less a person than Skinner’s fair daughter herself,
as I soon discovered; and, in fact, I had some faint recollection of having
seen her before. There was a lamp on the pavement before the door, by which I
could see her very plainly. She blushed, and smiled, and looked confused, and
when I asked for her father, made me some answer which I did not understand;
but, as she invited me to enter, I followed her into the house, expecting to be
led to the money-lender. She conducted me, however, to a parlour, not over and
above well furnished, for Skinner was a notorious skinflint, when, having
vouchsafed to converse with her a while, I again asked after her father.
She told me he was not
at home; but seeing me rise to depart, she stammered out an assurancethat he
would soon return; which caused me to resume my seat, evidently to her great
pleasure.
Seeing this, I
condescended to make myself agreeable, and with such effect, that the
simple-hearted foolish creature began to tell me how often she had seen me at
her father’s house a year or two before, when she was a little school-girl, as
she said, and how glad she was to see me back again; as if, a year or two
before, we had been intimate acquaintances; when, on the contrary, as my
associations assured me, I (or my original) had never taken the slightest notice
of her--as, in truth, why should I, her father being so much beneath me?
I believe I rather gave
her a stare; but she looked so admiringly at me, I could do no less than
continue to be agreeable; and, to tell the truth, I was afterward amazed at my
condescension.
By-and-by there dropped
in one of her brothers, a very fine looking young man for one of his rank in
life, but of a dissipated, under-the-table look, and, I thought, somewhat
julapized--which is a word that, among certain classes, signifies that one is
not sober. However, he behaved with great decorum, and instead of taking a
seat, as I expected, to make my acquaintance, he gave me a nod and a laugh, as
much as to say, “I know what you’re after, my boy,” and went stumbling into the
back part of the house.
In a few moments after
there came another equally good looking, but not so obliging; for he helped
himself to a seat without any ceremony,and, with just as little, proceeded to
inform me “he supposed I was after dad; but dad was fast on an arbitration, and
would not be home for at least three hours.”
Poor Alicia, for that
was her name (and in this particular she was better provided than my cousin
Pattie), gave her brother an angry look; for at this announcement I got up and
took my leave. She followed me, however, to the door, and told me if I would
come at about eight o’clock on the following evening, I would find her papa at
home; and she added, softly, that she would be glad to see me.--She glad to see
me! poor soul!
I went, though,
according to appointment; and, poor soul, she was glad to see me, as was plain
enough, but “sorry that papa had not yet got through with that arbitration; and
so I could not see him, unless I would be so good as to wait until he came
home; and, if I would, it would be charity, for there was nobody in the house
with her except old Barbara, the housekeeper, who was but poor company,--and,
indeed, she had but poor company always, living a very lonesome life of it,”
&c. &c.; and she concluded by promising, if I would sit down, to play
me a tune upon the piano!
She played me a tune
accordingly, and horrid work she made of it; but, as she did her best, I
praised her, and that pleased her. She then, to show me that she was
accomplished, introduced me to divers bits of paper with colours on them, which
she told me were drawings, and, as I knew but little of such things, I took her
word for it; after which she exhibited some two or three dozen handsome-looking
volumes in French and Italian, of which languages I knew no more than dandies
in general; and for that reason I told her such things were now considered
bores, and left to children and schoolmasters.
I perceived we were to
have a tête-à-tête of it, and I began to suspect the lassie knew so when she
invited me. When this idea entered my mind, I felt a little indignant; yet it
was diverting to think of her simplicity. I thought I would amuse myself with
her a little while, and unbend from the austerity of dignity, which seemed to
gratify her most.
In this humour I
permitted myself to be merry and easy; and having romped with her one way and
another, much to her delight, I at last seized upon her, and gave her a buss;
whereupon she acted pretty much as my cousin Pattie had done before her,--that
is, she laughed, and blushed, and cried “Oh la!” but looking all the time any
thing but incensed.
In short, my
condescension affected her to that degree, that she began to treat me as her
most undoubted friend; and, in the height of her confidence, informed me that
she was just eighteen years old, minus two months (the very age of my cousin
Pattie); that she was her father’s favourite (as far as any one could be the
favourite of such a curmudgeon); and that besides her fine expectationsfrom
him, she enjoyed in her own right a fortune of twenty thousand dollars--a
bequest from some old aunt or other--which she would come into possession of as
soon as the aforesaid two months and a few odd days had expired.
This was news that
affected me very strongly; and had her father been a gentleman, all things
considered, I believe I should have made her a declaration on the spot.
As it was, I felt my
soul growing tender towards her; for though twenty thousand dollars was but a
small sum, it was, if I could take her word for it, certain; which was not yet
the case with any of my cousin Pattie’s expectations. However, before I could
digest the information, we were surprised by the turning of a dead-latch key in
the front door, and Alicia cried, with a tone of disappointment, “Oh la! it is
papa!”--And so it was.
The old gentleman
looked upon the open piano, and the books and drawings upon the table, with
surprise, and then upon me with uneasiness.
“Mr. Dawkins has been
waiting, papa,” said Alicia.
“Humph!” said old
Goldfist, and pointed her to the door. She stole me a look, and, as she passed
out, raised her hand archly to her lips. She was rather free, I confess; but
she had lived a secluded life, and knew no better.
The old fellow gave me
a sharp look, coughed phthisically twice or thrice, and then, with but little
superfluous ceremony, asked me what I wanted.
“Money,” said I.
“Oh, ay, always money.
Who is to pay it? What’s your security?”
“My uncle Wilkins,”
said I.
“Very good name, don’t
doubt,” growled the bear; “the banks will take it. Don’t do any business of
that sort.”
“Ged, faith, no,” said
I; “I don’t come for money at six per cent., but on the old terms of usury. You
know my uncle Wilkins, eh? Only two children--a fortune of eight hundred and
seventy thousand dollars.”
“Bah!” said the bull, “that
will do for the girls and boys. Know all about him; one hundred and twenty, and
half of it in railroads--good for nothing.”
“Two hundred and
ninety, bona fide,” said I, “and half of it in bank-stock.”
“Know all about it,”
said Mr. Skinner; “but what’s that to you? Has a son of his own.”
“And a daughter,” said
I, giving him a nod, which brought a Christian look into his face, and,
doubtless, a Christian feeling into his hearts. I took advantage of it to
inform him that she and I were about to elope, and wanted a thousand dollars to
bear our expenses; assuring him also that her father was on the eve of making
her a grant of fifty thousand dollars, as soon as which was done, we should be
off at a moment’s warning. To be brief, I told the old fellow all that was
necessary for my purpose, and made so good a story of it,that I have no doubt I
should have got something out of him, had not my evil genius suddenly prompted
me to refer to his own daughter Alicia, and ask him what he intended to give
her, over and above her own twenty thousand?
He looked as black as
midnight, and asked “who told me she had such a sum?”
I saw I had alarmed
him, and said I had it of a friend of mine, a very fine fellow, who thought of
taking her off his hands, provided he would add twenty more to it.
“Want no fine fellows,
and no friends of yours,” said he, gruffly; “won’t give her a cent, and has
nothing of her own; all a fool’s story--told you so herself--a jade’s trick;
never told a truth in her life.”
The old miser’s soul
was up in arms; the prospect of being called upon in two months’ space to
render up the girl’s portion to a son-in-law, was so much Scotch snuff thrown
into his eyes; if it did not blind, it at least distracted him: and the reward
I had for conjuring up the vision was my own dismissal, notwithstanding all my
arguments to the contrary, with my pockets as empty as when I entered, a rude
assurance that he had closed accounts with me, and a highly impertinent request
that I would avoid troubling him for the future.
So I got no money of
him, but his daughter fell in love with me; and the next day she sent me by the
post a very tender and romantic billetdoux, in which she lamented her father’s
harshness andbarbarity, hoped I would not think ill of her for venturing upon
an apology, and concluded by informing me, with agreeable simplicity, that her
father was never at home between eight and nine o’clock in the evening, when
the weather was clear. From all which I understood, that she was as ready to
run away with me as my cousin Pattie.
Having pondered over
the matter for a while, it appeared to me proper to encourage her enthusiasm;
so that, in the event of my uncle Wilkins refusing to make Pattie independent,
I might be certain of a wife who could bring me something. I had many
objections, indeed, to the lady’s family and relations; but the latter I could
easily cut in case of necessity, and the other I considered scarce worth
thinking of. Her twenty thousand dollars was a strong recommendation; and there
was no telling what her father might leave her, if reconciled after her
marriage. I liked my cousin Pattie best; but, upon the whole, I considered it
advisable to have a second string to my bow.
With this impression on
my mind, I took occasion to drop in upon her the first clear evening, repeating
the visit now and then, as suited my convenience, and promised to run away with
her upon the first fitting occasion. And this promise I resolved to keep,
provided my affairs with my cousin Pattie should render it advisable.
I had scarce brought my
friend Tickle upon the stage, and introduced him into my uncle’s family, before
my mind began to misgive me. I suspected that, instead of being content to play
the stalking-horse for my sole advantage, he would take the opportunity to
advance his own interest, and gain, if he could, my cousin Pattie for himself.
To remove all
temptation, and bind him more closely to be faithful, I told him of my
adventure with Alicia (taking care, however, to conceal her name, for I did not
wish to forego my advantages in that quarter until convinced I could do so
without loss), described her claim to the sixty thousand dollars (for, of
course, I trebled her inheritance), and concluded by engaging to make her over
to him the moment I was myself secure of Pattie, which would be the moment
Pattie was secure of an independence.
Upon this promise
Tickle made me a thousand protestations of friendship and disinterestedness,
and I felt my mind more easy.
He acted his part,
assisted by Pattie, who at my suggestion feigned suddenly to be violently in
love with him, and besieged her father to thesame end as myself: the old
gentleman at last com plied, and actually executed the deed of gift which I
mentioned before; by which he secured to her the revenue accruing upon a sum of
forty thousand dollars, the principal, which he retained in his own hands in
trust, to revert to her at his death; and to this deed I was myself made a
witness.
With these terms, as it
seemed there were no better to be had, I allowed myself to be satisfied; and
trusting to a final reconciliation with my uncle Wilkins to augment the dowry,
I ran to my cousin Pattie and informed her of her good fortune.
She was filled with
repture, and began fairly to dance with joy; she told me I was the best and sweetest
of cousins, and vowed she would love me to her dying day. Her joyous spirits
fired my own, and I answered in terms equally ecstatic. In short, we agreed to
elope that very night, and arranged our plan accordingly. It was agreed I
should have a carriage in waiting at the corner of the street during the
evening, and that Pattie, who was to feign herself unwell, as an excuse for not
going to Mrs. Pickup’s first ball, which was to take place that evening, should
find some means to get her father out of the way; immediately after which I,
having disposed of the redoubtable Sammy, by depositing him in the aforesaid
Mrs. Pickup’s drawing-room, was to make my appearance, and bear her in triumph
to a reverend divine, previously secured for the ceremony.
Having settled all
these things, and sealed our engagement with a kiss, my adorable cousin
admitted me to a secret which nearly froze my blood with horror.
She informed me that my
friend Tickle, disregarding all his vows of fidelity, had been busy ever since I
brought him into the house besieging her on his own account; that he had taken
every occasion to undermine me in her affections, by disparaging my good
qualities both of soul and mind, and especially by assuring her I was “a great
ass and fortune-hunter” (those were his very words); and, finally, that he had
so used the power his knowledge of our secret had given him, by occasional
threats of betraying it to her father, that she had been compelled to accept
his addresses, and make him the same promise she had just made me--that is, to
elope with him. The perfidious fellow had by some means got wind of the deed of
gift; and while I was engaged in signing it, he had paid my cousin a visit with
the same object as myself, and she had promised to decamp with him. Nay, at
this moment the villain was engaged in securinghis carriage and his parson,
with the prospect of chousing me out of my wife and fortune!
My horror was, however,
soon dissipated. My cousin Pattie had made the engagement only in self-defence,
and she looked upon the whole affair as the best joke in the world. “How we
will cheat him,” said she; “the base fellow!” and she danced about, smiling,
and laughing, and crying together, so that it was a delight to see her. “Yes,”
saidshe, with uncommon vivacity, “we will cheat him, for I’m sure he deserves
no better; for I’m sure he’s just as much of a goose and fortune-hunter as he
said you were; and I’m sure I despise a goose and fortune-hunter above all
things; and I’m sure I know how to treat a goose and fortune-hunter as well as
anybody. How we’ll laugh at him to-morrow! How he’ll stare when he finds I’m
gone! how papa will stare too! How Sammy will stare, and how he’ll whistle! Oh
dear! I do love to cheat people of all things; I do, cousin Ikey; and, ods
fishes, I’m almost half minded to cheat you too!”
And with that she flung
her arms round my neck, gave me a kiss, and ran laughing away to prepare for
the hour of elopement.
There was an
extraordinary coincidence between the situation of my cousin Pattie and myself.
She had agreed to run away with two different people at the same moment; and so
had I. The day before my uncle proved unusually crusty and self-willed, and I
began to think I should never effect my point with him; and, what was equally
dispiriting, I fell among duns, who persecuted me with astonishing rancour; my
uncle’s appearance, as it seemed, serving rather to sharpen than to allay their
appetites for payment. Being thus goaded on by doubt and dunning, I resolved to
make sure of Goldfist’s daughter; which I did by visiting her as soon as night
came, and proposing an elopement on the following evening; and this it was the
more easy toput into execution, since her father, as she told me, was fast in
bed with a sciatica, or some such vulgar disorder.
No one could be more
willing and delighted than the fair Alicia; and it appeared that, in
anticipation of the happy event, she had already made all her preparations,
having, as she assured me, arranged with a friend of hers, at whose house she
designed the ceremony to be performed, ordered secretly a whole trunk full of
bride’s clothes, and notified an old schoolmate whom she had engaged to wait
upon her.
I thought, upon my
soul, she was taking matters pretty easily, and acting somewhat independently;
but she was ignorant of the world, as I said before, and knew no better. I was
still more disgusted with the thought of being shown off among her friends, and
told her a bridemaid was wholly superfluous; but she had made her mind up as to
what was right on such an occasion, and I judged it proper to submit. It was
agreed I should meet her at her friend’s house, at nine o’clock in the evening;
and “she hoped,” very modestly, I thought, “that I would bring some nice pretty
fellow to wait on me, that would make a good match with her dear Julia, who was
the nicest dear soul in the world.”
This “nice dear soul,”
as I afterward discovered, and as I think proper to inform the reader now, that
he may understand into what a slough of democracy I was rushing, was no less a
personage than a cousin-german of Mr. Snip, my tailor; andher appointment to
the honour of waiting upon the bride of the distinguished I. D. Dawkins was
productive of a casualty expected neither by herself nor by my adored Alicia.
I laughed in my sleeve
at that hint of my Alicia; and yet I did, after all, provide myself with an
attendant, and one who was perhaps better suited than any other person I could
have lighted on, as an offset and pendent to the “fair Julia.” This was my
cousin, Sammy Wilkins; and the reason of my appointing him was this. He was,
although the stupidest creature on earth, of a meddling and prying nature, and
had an extraordinary fancy to go sneaking after me whithersoever I went--from
admiration and affection, perhaps; but of that I was not certain; and, at all
events, he was a great burden to me. He discovered my repeated visits to
Skinner’s house, and was seized with a stupid curiosity to know the reason;
and, what was still worse, he made so many observations on my attentions to,
and secret conferences with, his sister Pattie, that it was clear he suspected
there was something in the wind there too. Being kept in eternal torment lest
he should discover more than I liked, or, by his indiscreet tattling, awake the
suspicions of others, I saw no better means of averting the mischief, and
turning his eyes from his sister, than by taking him aside, and telling him,
with many injunctions to secrecy, that I was courting old Skinner’s rich
daughter, and wished to have him wait upon me at the wedding.
Such confidence,
coupled with the intention to do him so much honour, entirely overcame his
rustic imaginations. He swore he approved of marrying rich wives, and was
looking out for one himself, and hoped I would put him on the track of one;
which I promised, and the clownish juvenile was content. He looked forward to
the great event with a measure of glee I had never seen him roused to before,
and he ordered a new coat of Snip, that he might do honour to his service.
It is quite true, I
never really intended he should trouble himself in the matter; but when the
fated evening came, when the loving Alicia, arrayed in satin and white roses,
was awaiting her lover, who was preparing to run away with her rival, I thought
it better to despatch him to my charmer than to leave him at Mrs. Pickup’s,
whence he might stray at a moment’s warning, and, indeed, with no warning at
all. It was quite necessary to have him out of the way; for which reason I sent
him to the house where Alicia was in waiting, with a special message to the
lady, to make his introduction the more easy, and a thousand instructions in
relation to nothing.
It was fortunate that
my cousin Sammy, though as great a rustic as ever lived, was, as little
troubled with bashfulness as wisdom. Hence I found no difficulty in despatching
him to my inamorata, whom he had never laid eyes on, and to her friends, with
regard to whom I was in the same predicament. Ipromised to follow him in a
short time, and thus, to my great joy, succeeded in getting him out of the way.
The appointed hour drew
nigh, and all things had gone on swimmingly with one single exception. The
persecution I had endured from Messrs. Sniggles, Snip, & Co. the day
before, I was fated once more to endure; for, going home to my lodgings about
dusk to put on my best shirt, I found my chief creditors assembled in solemn
divan, or rather in warlike ambush; and such a troop of bears and wolves as
they were was perhaps never seen by an unfortunate gentleman before. What had
brought them together, especially at such an unlucky moment, it was impossible
to divine; but it seems they had had in consideration the state of my affairs
and prospects, and had just come to the conclusion, as I entered, that they
were none the better off for the coming of my uncle Wilkins, who (for it
appeared the villain Sniggles had been sounding him on the subject) had
disavowed all responsibility for my debts, and all disposition to discharge
them, in terms not to be mistaken. It had just been resolved, nem. con., as the
saying is,that I had cheated them, that I was cheating them, and that I would
cheat them as long as I could, and that terms, therefore, should be kept with
me no longer.
To this moment my flesh
creeps when I think of the yell the villains set up when I stumbled among them,
and the audacity with which they heaped on my devoted head their upbraidings,
menaces, and maledictions. They used highly uncivil language, and some laid
their defiling fingers upon my collar, while all, as with one voice, cried out
to carry me before an alderman, and make a public spectacle of me at once.
I say my flesh yet
creeps while I think of their ferocious conduct, and I shall remember it to my
death-bed; for of all the various woes and grievances to which flesh is heir,
and which I have had uncommon opportunities to test, there are none more truly
awful in my recollections than a high case of dunning.
It was several moments
before I could utter a word in defence; and when I did, having nothing better
to say, I assured the rascals I was just on the eve of running away with my uncle’s
daughter, and of course would be soon able to answer all their scurvy demands.
I told them the time was fixed, the carriage and parson prepared, and my fair
Pattie in waiting; but, as I had told them many thousand things before which
were not always exactly true, I found my present assurances received with so
little credit, that I was obliged to give themocular proof of my honesty and
fair-dealing. I invited them to follow me to my uncle’s door, and there station
themselves until they beheld me come forth conducting my bride to the carriage;
after which they might, if they would, follow me in like manner to the parson:
and I engaged, in the confidence of my heart, if I failed to bring out a wife
according to promise, to follow them, without any further demur, to the
alderman, or to old Nick himself, which was pretty much the same thing.
This proposal, being
highly reasonable, was accepted; and I had the honour of such an escort to my
uncle’s doors as was never before enjoyed by a bridegroom. The only one who did
not accompany me to my uncle’s door was Mr. Snip the tailor; who, passing a
house where lived, as he said, a young lady of his acquaintance, stepped in to
show one of his customer’s new coats that he had on, promising to follow after
us in a moment. As my stars, or the father of sin, would have it, this young
lady was that identical “dear Julia,” his cousin-german, of whom I spoke
before, and whom he found rustling in satin, just prepared, as she informed
him, to join her dear Alicia Skinner, who was to be married to the handsome Mr.
Dawkins, at the house of their friend Mrs. Some-one-or-other.
The tailor was
thunderstruck, as tailors doubtless often are; assured the dear Julia she was
mistaken, and acquainted her with the true state of the case; the result of
which was, as may be understood, when she had carried her news to the expectant
Alicia, a certain scene of a highly interesting nature. As for Mr. Snip
himself, he rushed out of the house to bring me to an explanation; but when he
reached the party I had already taken refuge in my uncle’s house.
I found my cousin
Pattie also in her satins, and Nora Magee, whom she had resolved to take with
her, decked out with extraordinary splendour; and, what I thought was diverting
enough, the creature had a long bridal veil like her mistress, and as huge a
cloak to conceal her person from observation. They were prepared to start, with
each her bundle at hand; and they hailed my appearance with delight.
But there was a
difficulty before us; my uncle Wilkins was yet in the house, and so was Sammy.
As for the latter, I soon got rid of him by sending him to Alicia, as I mentioned
before; but my uncle we could not remove. My cousin’s affectation of sickness
(to confirm which, and conceal her nuptial preparations, she kept aloof in her
chamber, or pretended to do so) concerned him, and he refused to leave the
house; but, being left to himself, weknew he would soon drop asleep, that being
one of his rustical propensities.
By-and-by, while we
were discoursing upon our difficulties, we heard a carriage drive by; and just
as it passed the door, the coachman gave three loud cracks with his whip. It
was a sign I had agreed upon with the fellow, and I knew all was now in
readiness. I proposed that we should instantly steal down stairs, and--
At that moment I heard
the front door softly open and shut.
“Who’s that?” said I.
“Ah! I’m sure I don’t
know,” said my cousin Pattie, turning so pale I thought she was going to fall
down in a faint; “perhaps it is Mr. Tickle. Yes!” she cried, recovering her
spirits, and almost jumping for joy,--“now we’ll sort him! I’ll show him how I
serve fortune-hunters, I reckon! I’ll lock him up in a closet, I will; and
there he shall kick his heels till morning, and I don’t care if the rats eat
him, I don’t.--Oh, goody gracious! he’s coming up stairs!” she cried: “was
there ever anybody so impudent? But I’ll fix him. Here, cousin Ikey, do you run
in here,”--pointing to her chamber,--“and don’t let him see you.”
“No,” said I, thinking
it proper to appear courageous, “I will face the faithless rascal, and punish
his impertinence on the spot.” I had no idea of doing any such thing, which, of
course, must have alarmed my uncle, and I intended to yield to Pattie’s fears
and importunity, swallow my wrath forthe present, and conceal myself, as she
recommended. But my display of resistance awoke the indignation of Nora Magee,
who cried, “Och, the divil take him thin; does he mane to rob us of our
husbands?” and seizing me by the shoulders, she thrust me towards the chamber.
“Run in, cousin Ikey,”
said my cousin, driving the Irish barbarian away, but seizing me herself, and
urging me into the chamber, while she seemed dying with suppressed mirth. “You’ll
see how Nora will sort him,--you’ll hear it. You mustn’t speak a word; and, ods
fishes, you must remember to behave yourself,”--here she seemed more diverted
than ever,--“ods fishes, you must behave yourself in a lady’s chamber.”
At that moment Nora
blew out the light, so that we were left in darkness, and my cousin locked the
door, thus, as I supposed, dividing us from the enemy. “I say, Pattie, my soul,”
said I, whispering in her ear, “what is Nora going to do with him?” But she
answered me not a word, and I took that as a hint to hold my own peace. The
next instant I heard a rustling in the next room, and the voice of Jack Tickle
saying softly, and almost in my own words,
“I say, Pattie, my
soul, what did you blow out the light for? Where are you?--Oh! you divine
creature!” and I heard the smack of a kiss, that quite astonished me.
“Pattie,” said I, “what
the deuse is the meaning of that?”
But Pattie was as dumb
as before. The rustling was transferred from the antechamber (I had taught my
cousin to call it her boudoir) into the passage, and I could tell, by the
creaking of a step, that my friend Tickle was going down stairs.
“Pattie,” said I, “what’s
in the wind now?”
But still Pattie
refused to answer me.
While I was wondering
at her silence, now that there was no fear of being overheard, I again
distinguished the sound of the house door softly opened and shut.
“I say, Pattie,” said
I, “what the devil is all that? and pray why don’t you speak?”
It occurred to me that
her silence was all owing to a fit of bashfulness, caused by her having me
locked up in the chamber with her.
“Pattie,” said I,
reaching out my hands, but without being able to reach her, “you shouldn’t be
bashful nor nothing, considering we’re to be married in less than half an hour.
I say, Pattie, what are we to do now? where are you?”
While I spoke I heard a
carriage again rattle by the door, and, to my astonishment, the coachman
saluted the house with three such cracks of his whip as my own had given a few
minutes before.
“Pattie,” said I, while
a cold sweat broke over my limbs, “where are you, and why don’t you speak?”
I felt about the door
for her, but felt in vain; I listened for the sound of her breath, hoping
shemight have hidden herself out of sheer mischief, but not a breath was to be
heard; I went feeling about the chamber, and with as little effect.
A horrible suspicion
seized upon my fancy. There were two doors to the apartment, one opening upon
the passage, the other into the boudoir; and both were locked as fast as doors
could be. Where was the key my cousin Pattie turned when we entered the chamber
together? It was gone. I discovered its absence, and looked round the chamber
in astonishment and dismay.
At that moment some
person in Mr. Periwinkle Smith’s house, which was right opposite, entered a
front chamber therein with a light, which streamed into the windows of Pattie’s
apartment with a lustre sufficient to make every object visible. My cousin
Pattie was not to be seen! I looked under the bed, and into the bed; examined
the presses, and peeped behind the chairs; but no cousin Pattie was to be
found. She had locked me in the chamber, but not herself! Horror of horrors! she
had played a trick upon me! she had jilted me! and --ay! there was no doubting
it a moment longer-- she had run off with my friend Tickle! “I’ll show you how
I serve fortune-hunters,” said she--“lock him up in a closet--kick his heels
till morning-- eaten up by rats--shall hear yourself how I’ll serve your rival
Tickle.” Death and destruction! and, after all, she has run away with
him!--eloped in the very carriage I provided! married by the parson I engaged!
decamped with the forty thousandI secured! and I--I, the unfortunate, jilted,
cozenedI--was the person left kicking my heels in a closet!
The idea filled me with
phrensy; and the light from Mr. Periwinkle Smith’s house being removed at the
moment, I tumbled over a chair that lay in my way, and besides breaking my head
and shin, woke up such a din in the house that the very servants in the kitchen
bounced up in alarm, and screamed out for assistance.
“What’s the matter,
Pattie?” said my uncle Wilkins, turning the key which the faithless creature
had left sticking in the outside of the door, and entering: “I say, Pattie, ods
bobs, what’s the-- Lord bless us, cousin Ikey! is that you? what’s the matter?
what are you doing in Pattie’s chamber?”
I answered my uncle
Wilkins only by opening my mouth as wide as I could, and staring at him in
anguish, horror, and despair.
“Where’s Pattie?” said
he, in alarm.
The question restored
me to my faculties.
“Eloped,” said I; “cheated
me beyond all expression, and run off with my rival Jack Tickle.”
“What a fool!” said my
uncle, recovering his composure; “I’m sure I never opposed her.”
“So much for not giving
her to me!” said I.
“To you!” said my
uncle.
“Uncle Wilkins,” said
I, “from this moment I shall cut your acquaintance. Pattie has jilted me so
horribly you can’t conceive, and has married Jack Tickle!”
“Well,” said my uncle, “where’s
the harm? To be sure, and a’n’t he as good now as worth ten thousand a year?”
“Not worth a cent!”
said I, shaking my fists at the old gentleman--and then drumming on my own breast--“not
worth a cent, and down in every tailor’s books in town, except Snip’s, who
wouldn’t trust him.”
“Oh, you villain!” said
my uncle Wilkins, “how you’ve cheated me!”
He ran down stairs, and
I after him; he was bent upon pursuing his daughter--and so was I.
As we reached the foot
of the staircase, the house door opened, and in came my friend Tickle, dragged
along--not by our dear and faithless Pattie, as we fondly supposed, but by the
raging Nora Magee.
“Help, murder, help!”
cried my friend Tickle.
“Och, murder, and
twenty murders more upon ye, ye chatin crathur! and won’t ye marry me?” cried
Nora Magee.
My uncle Wilkins and
myself rushed forward, lost in amazement, and separated the fury from herprey. “What
is the matter?” cried both, “and where is Pattie?”
“The devil is the
matter,” cried Jack, panting and blowing; “and where Pattie is I know no more
than you. I thought I was running away with her until I reached the squire’s;
and then I found I had this wild Indian under her cloak, who insisted I should
marry her, or else--”
“Ay, ye murderin,
faithless villain!” said Nora Magee, “I’ll marry ye, or I’ll have the breaches
of promise and the damages out of ye! Och, but I have the law of ye; for didn’t
my Missus Pattie promise ye should marry me? I say, ye ugly-faced, hin-souled
Tickle that they call ye, I have the law of ye, and I’ll be married before the
squire, or I’ll have the breaches out of ye!”
“My breeches,” said
Jack, “you may have, and my coat and waistcoat too; for may I be hanged and
quartered if I am not cheated out of my very skin.”
“Where’s my daughter Pattie?”
said my uncle Wilkins. He looked at me, and I looked at him; it was plain my
cousin Pattie had not run away with my friend Tickle.
Where could she be? I
began to recover my spirits, when they were suddenly put to flight by a knock
at the door, which being opened, a letter was thrown in, the messenger
instantly taking to his heels, so that no one beheld him. It was a letter to my
uncle Wilkins. He opened it and read the following words:--
“Dear Papa and honoured
Father:
“This is to inform you
that I don’t like Mr. Tickle, and so can’t marry him; and hope you will excuse
me for following my own fancies, being now independent, as you have made me,
for which I will remain your dutiful, loving daughter for life Give my love to
cousin Dully, and tell him I con sider him my best friend next to my dear papa
and my dear husband--for, oh, papa, I’m really married, and going off
travelling to-morrow.
“Hope you’ll forgive
us, papa, and shall ever love and pray for you, and rest your loving, dutiful
children,
PattieandDanny Baker.”
“Danny Baker!” roared
my uncle; “Danny Baker!” groaned I. The clodhopper had got her, and I had been
only toiling in his service!
“Oh, you villain!” said
my uncle Wilkins, “this is all your doings!”
“Sir,” said I, “no hard
words.”
“You’re a villain!”
said my uncle; “you wanted to steal her yourself, and I a’n’t sorry Danny Baker
has choused you out of her; and for that reason I don’t care if I forgive him.
Yes, sir, I’ll forgive Danny Baker; but for you, sir, I owe you a debt--”
“If you do,” said
Tickle, “pay him.” But we took no notice of him--my uncle because he was
enraged, and I because I was devoured by the greatness of my misfortune. In
truth, the loss of my cousin Pattie was so unexpected, that it had astounded me
out of my faculties. I was reduced to a mere automaton, conscious, indeed, of
being in a horrible quandary, but incapable of seeing my way out of it; when I
suddenly heard the voice, as I thought (or some one very like it), of my cousin
Sammy at the door.
This roused me at once;
I remembered that at this moment my Alicia was waiting for me, and I fell into
a rapture.
“Uncle Wilkins,” said
I, “you may say what you please; Jack Tickle, you are a rascal; Nora Magee, you
are a jade; but it is all one to I. D. Dawkins. I will marry my Miss Skinner.”
As I spoke I looked
upon the door, which, opening, disclosed a sight that petrified me, body and
soul together. It was the apparition of my Alicia, in bridal array, leaning
upon the arm of my cousin Sammy, and followed by a brace of youthful damsels
decked in white flowers, all of whom stalked into the door with the solid step
of flesh and blood, and advanced towards my uncle; my Alicia looking as silly
and shame-faced as could be, while Sammy, on the contrary, held up his head and
strutted like a turbaned Turk in the midst of his harem.
“What the deuse is all
this?” said Jack Tickle. As for me, I could not speak a word, being a hundred
fold more amazed than before. I looked at my Alicia, who, seeing me, began to
blush, and bridle, and simper, and hold fast to Sammy’s arm. As for Sammy, he
looked not a whit the less Turkish,but marched up to his father as if charging
him at the head of a regiment.
The old gentleman was
as much astonished as myself, and at last cried out,
“Ods bobs! what’s the
matter, Sam? have you been running away, too?”
“No,” said my cousin
Sammy, “I reckon I’m not gone yet; but I’ve come to get ready: and first, dad,
as in duty bound, let’s have a bit of your blessing, if you’ve no objection, on
me and my wife.”
“Your wife!!!” said I,
and said no more.
“Well,” said my cousin
Sammy, “I reckon I may say so; for you see, Dawkins, my boy, when I saw ’Lishy
here, I liked her; and when July here came and told us as how you had run off
with sister Pat Wilkins, why, then, said I, I may as well speak up for myself;
and so, as the parson was ready, and ’Lishy dressed up to be married already,
we made but short work of the courtship; and now, as the saying is, one and one
is one: this here is my wife, for better and for worse, and I hope neither you
nor father has any objection.”
I never knew what my
uncle Wilkins replied to the aforesaid speech, the longest I ever heard my
cousin Sammy utter, nor do I know what reception he gave to the bride. I made
but one jump to the front door, where my horror was consummated. My departure
was greeted by an uproarious cry; but it proceeded from the street, not the
house. I found myself among the Philistines, whom, an hour before, I had myself
placed there in wait. I had forgotten the barbarians, which was natural enough,
as they were my creditors; but they had not forgotten me. They hailed my
appearance on the steps with some such yell of wrath and hunger as that with
which the beasts of a menagerie express their joy at the appearance of their
daily meal.
That cry was the
finisher. I leaped from the steps and took to my heels, not, however, without
leaving in the hands of my tailor one tail of the last coat he had made me;
which was, I believe, the only payment I ever made him. My hat flew into the
gutter; and that was perhaps recovered by its maker; in which case, it was
doubtless brushed up and sold over again as a new one. I fled like the wind; my
creditors followed me. The clatterof our footsteps, and the uproar of their
interjections, threw the street into a tumult. Some persons yelled “murder!”
and others cried “stop thief!” while the little boys, catching up the cry from
a distance, screamed out “fire!” and ran to the nearest enginehouse, to enjoy
their evening amusement.
How long I ran, and
whither, it is quite impossible for me to say. I recollect doubling two or
three times, and diving into alleys, to throw my pursuers off the track. My
efforts were, however, in vain; I found myself lodged at last in a vile alley,
and hemmed in both on the front and rear. I made a leap at a garden gate, which
I cleared; then running forward, and perceiving a back door in a house standing
open, I rushed in, scarce knowing what I did.
I immediately
discovered that I was in a sort of servants’ hall, or anteroom to the kitchen,
in which an old woman sat sleeping in an arm-chair. She was disturbed by the
noise of my entrance, and I dreaded every moment to see her open her eyes, and
by her shrieks draw my pursuers after me. I was afraid, however, to retreat,
for, in the confusion of my mind, I thought I heard my tormentors rushing to
and fro in the garden.
In this uncertainty,
seeing a flight of stairs in one corner of the room, I darted up them, without
reflecting a moment upon what might be the consequences. But what evil could
happen to me more horrid than that I was fleeing? I might stumble into a lady’s
chamber and throw her into hysterics, or I mightfind myself at the bedside of
some valiant personage, sleeping with a brace of pistols under his pillow, the
contents of which he might transfer to my body. But such catastrophes had now
lost their terrors: it was all one to I. D. Dawkins, as I had said to my uncle
Wilkins. I could receive no addition to my woes, go whither and do whatsoever I
might.
I rushed up the stairs,
therefore, and entered a chamber, where a tallow candle, burning all on one
side, stood flaring on a little table, among vials, gallipots, and other
furniture of a sick chamber, throwing a dim and spectral light on a bed near to
which it stood. I cast my eyes upon the bed, and perceived I had nothing to
fear, either from timorous ladies or nervous gentlemen.
Upon that couch lay the
ghastly spectacle of a human corse, stiff and cold. It was that of an old man,
and I thought at first that he slept; but, upon looking closer, I perceived
that he had been dead for at least an hour; and it appeared as if he had died
untended by friend or servant, for the bedclothes had been nearly tossed from
the bed in his last convulsion, and now lay tumbled about hislimbs and the
floor, just as they had fallen. His features were greatly distorted, having an
expression of rage upon them that was highly disagreeable to look on; yet I had
a vague feeling that I had seen him before.
While I was wondering
who he could be, I perceived a paper clutched in his right hand; and, taking it
to the light, the secret was at once revealed.
It was a letter from my
adorable Alicia to her father, dated that very evening, in which she gave him
to understand, in the most romantic language in the world, that his opposition
to her wishes in relation to her beloved Dawkins had broken her heart--that she
could never think of marrying any one else (as if, indeed, the old gentleman
ever wished her)--that she could not live without her Dawkins, and accordingly
had made up her mind to fly with him afar from parental severity; and concluded
by assuring him that “when he read those lines, penned by a grieved and
determined, but still dutifully loving heart” (she said nothing of her
fingers), “she would be in the arms of a lawful husband.” There was appended a
postscript, in which she expressed much contrition, hoped he would forgive her,
and hinted that she would be of age in two months.
I looked at the old man
again, and wondered I had not known him before. It was old Skinner, sure
enough, and the secret of his death was readily explained. He had been sick
before, and thiselegant epistle had finished him--or rather the necessity, so
romantically hinted at in the conclusion, of settling, two months thereafter,
his guardian’s account with her husband, had done his business. I did not
suppose the wound in his parental feelings had done him much hurt; but there
was more, perhaps, in that, than any one would have thought that knew the old
miser.
And there he lay, then
the owner of thousands and hundreds of thousands, with none to mourn him--nay,
with not even a hand to smooth the bedrobe over his neglected body. He had
squandered health, happiness, good name, and perhaps self-approbation, the true
riches of man, in the pursuit of the lucre which cannot purchase back again one
of these treasures; and notwithstanding which lucre he was now, and indeed had
been at his death-hour, no better off than the beggar in his coffin of deal. He
had heaped up gold for his children, that they might begrudge him the breath
drawn in pain and infirmity, and rejoice in the moment of his death. He had--
But why should I moralize over a subject worn just as threadbare as any other.
The old fellow was a miser, and met the miser’s fate. Nobody accused even his
children of loving him; and while I stood by his side, I had a stronger proof
of their regard than spoke in the neglected appearance of his deathbed. I had
scarce entered the room before I heard, from some of the apartments below, the
sounds of mirth and festivity. They were not to be mistaken; it was plain
thatsome persons were feasting and making merry in one of the old fellow’s
parlours; and I doubted not they were his two sons, Ralph and Abbot, both of
whom had very bad characters, the latter in particular, who was a notorious
profligate. They were young men of promise, I had heard; but the avarice of the
parent had ruined them. Their education neglected from indifference, or a
miserable spirit of parsimony, their minds and morals uncultivated,--the
consciousness of their father’s wealth and their own golden prospects at his
decease stimulated them to excesses, which were perhaps rendered still more
agreeable to their imaginations, and certainly more destructive to their weal,
by the difficulty of indulging in them, resulting from the niggardliness of
their father.
But the reign of denial
was now over; the rattle and crash of glasses and vessels in the room below,
the tumbling down of chairs and tables, with the sounds of singing, shouting,
and laughter, proclaimed with what a lusty lyke-wake the abandoned sons were
honouring the memory of their father--with what orgies of Bacchus they were
celebrating their own deliverance from restraint. Suddenly the sound of the
singing grew louder, as if some door between the revellers and the dead had
been opened; and a moment after I perceived, from the increase and direction of
the uproar, that the sots were ascending the stairs, and perhaps approaching
the chamber of death.
An idea seized upon my
mind. I was heartilysick of Mr. I. D. Dawkins’s body, being ready at that
moment to exchange it for a dog’s, and I was incensed at the heartless and
brutal rejoicings of the young Skinners. It occurred to me, if I could get my
spirit into old Goldfist’s body, I should avoid all dunning for the future, and
give these two reprobate sons of his such a lesson as would last them to their
dying day.
The idea came to me
like a blaze of sunshine; I remembered in a moment the vast wealth of the
deceased, and I pictured to my imagination the glorious use I should make of
it. I had always hated and despised the old villain; but a sudden affection for
him now seized upon my soul. I had a strong persuasion in me, resulting from my
two former adventures, that I possessed the power of entering any human body
which I found to my liking; and I resolved to exercise it, or, at the worst, to
make proof of its existence, for a third time. Of the manner of exercising the
power I knew but little; I remembered, however, that, on the former occasions,
I had merely uttered a wish, and the transformation was instantly completed. I
stepped up to the body, and chuckling with the idea of chousing the unnatural
sons out of their expected inheritance, I said,
“Old Goldfist, if you
please, I wish to be in your body!”
In less than a second
of time I found myself starting up from the bed, as if I had just been roused
from sleep by the noise of some falling body, and exclaiming “What’s that?”
I looked over the side
of the bed, and saw the body of I. D. Dawkins lying on the floor on its face.
The transformation was complete, and had been so instantaneous, that my spirit
heard, through the organs of its new tenement, the downfall of its old. I felt
a little bewildered, indeed posed, and remained upon my elbow staring about the
room; and I may add, that I was more disconcerted by the bacchanalian voices
now at the chamber door, than by any thing else.
The door opened, and
the young Skinners entered; I shall remember them to my dying day; they were
both royally drunk, and each armed with a candle, with which, scattering the
tallow over the floor as they advanced, they came staggering and hiccoughing
into the chamber.
“I say, bravo, dad, and
no offence,” said the foremost, “but don’t feel so sorry as I ought; and here’s
Ralph a’n’t sorry neither.”
“Led us a devilish hard
life of it,” grumbled the other, “but shall have something done for his soul by
the Catholics. I say, Abby, shall buy that black horse and the buggie.”
“And a tombstone for
dad,” said the worthy Abbot, laying his candle upon the table, and striking an
attitude like a dancing-master, which, however, he could not keep. “I say,
Ralph,” he went on, “it isn’t right to say so, but don’t you feel good? Three
hundred thousand apiece, dammee! I say, Ralph, let us dance.”
And the villains took
hands, and attempted a pasde deux, as the theatre people have it; while the old
woman, who had been sleeping below, and was roused by the fall of my late body,
came running into the room, to see what was the matter. By this time the dogs
had chassé’d up so nigh to the bed, that, for the first time, they laid their
eyes upon the reanimated countenance of their father.
The effect was
prodigious; the moment before their faces were all drunkenness and triumph--now
they were all drunkenness and horror. The light of the candle held by Ralph
flashed over my visage; but Abbot was the first to observe me resting on my
elbow, and staring at him with looks of wrath and indignation.
“Lord love us, Ralph,”
said he, “dad’s coming to!”
“Yes, you villains!”
said I, “I am coming to; you unnatural, undutiful rascals, I have come to!”
They looked upon me,
and upon one another, unutterably confounded, and I wondered myself that I did
not laugh at them. Their confusion, however, only filled me with rage, and I
railed at them with as much emphasis and sincerity as if I had been their
father in earnest.
They dropped on their
knees; but their rueful appearance only added to my fury. I stormed and I
scolded, until, being quite exhausted with the effort, a film came over my
eyes, and I fell back in a swoon.
My swoon was, I
believe, of no great duration, and I awoke from it a new man, as well as an old
one.
Yes, I was changed, and
with a vengeance; and into such a miserable creature, that had I justly
conceived what I was to become in entering old Goldfist’s body, I doubt whether
even the extremity in which I was placed would have forced me upon the
transformation. I forgot that the title to Skinner’s wealth was saddled with
the conditions of age, infirmity, and a thousand others equally disagreeable.
But I soon made the discovery, though it was some time before I discovered all.
The first inconvenience
of the transformation which I felt was a thousand aches in my bones, a great
disturbance in my inner man, and a general sense of feebleness and impotency,
highly vexatious and tormenting. My eyesight was bad, my hearing indistinct,
and, indeed, all my senses were more or less confused; my hand trembled when I
lifted it to my face, my voice quavered while I spoke, and every effort to
breath seemed to fill my lungs with coal-gas and ashes. In a word, I was a man
of sixty years or more, with a constitution just breaking up, if not already
broken.
My resuscitation
produced a hubbub of no ordinary character. My sons--for, wonderful to be said,
I had sons, and I soon felt as if they were in reality mine--were confounded,
and so, doubtless, was Barbara, the housekeeper; to the latter of whom it was
perhaps owing that I ever recovered from my swoon; for my two boys, overcome
with horror and despair, rushed out of the house, and it was a week before I
saw their faces again.
What added to the
confusion was the discovery of my late body, lying on the floor, no one being
at all able to account for its appearance. To this day, indeed, the thing
remains a mystery among tailors and shop-keepers. It was pretty generally
considered that the unfortunate I. D. Dawkins met his death by dunning, and I
believe the coroner’s jury returned a verdict accordingly; but how he made his
way into the chamber of the usurer to give up the ghost, just at the moment the
other was resuming it, was never known. Some supposed he had visited the old
gentleman to borrow money, and had knocked his head against the bedpost in
despair upon finding the lender past lending. Speculationwas alive upon the
subject for two full days, and was then buried in the young gentleman’s grave,
along with his body and his memory; for the memory of a dandy passeth away,
unless recorded on the books of his tailor.
I was confined to my
bed a week, suffering with a complication of disorders; for, though I possessed
the power to reanimate a corpse, I had none to conjure away its diseases. In
this period I had leisure to exchange all previous characteristics that might
have clung to me, for those that more properly belonged to my new casing; and
when I rose from my bed the transformation was in every particular complete. My
soul had lost its identity; it had taken its shape from the mould it occupied;
it was the counterpart of the soul of Abram Skinner.
My last act as I. D.
Dawkins was to chuckle over the prospect of spending Abram Skinner’s money; my
first as Abram Skinner was to take care it should be spent neither by myself
nor by any one else. The desire to enjoy myself had vanished; the thoughts of
fine clothes, horses and carriages, and so on, entered my mind no more. The
only idea that possessed me was, “What am I worth? how much more can I make
myself worth?” and the first thing I did, when I could sit in a chair, was to
ransack a certain iron chest that stood under my bed, containing my prototype’s
books of accounts, over which I gloated with the mingled anxiety and delight
that had doubtless distinguished the studies of the true Goldfist.
I found myself rich
beyond all my previously-formed expectations; and, glum and rigid as were now
all my feelings, I think I should have danced around my chamber for joy, had
not the first flourish of a leg introduced me to the pangs of rheumatism. I
indulged my rapture, therefore, in a soberer way; and while awaiting the period
of emancipation from my chamber, arranged a thousand plans for increasing my
wealth.
My sons had deserted
me, but I was not left entirely to solitude. I received divers visits from old
fellows like myself, who, after growling out a variety of wonder and
congratulation at my return to life, proceeded to counsel with me on subjects,
the discussion of which speedily brought me to the knowledge of my new
condition, where it had not been supplied by the iron chest and my instincts.
These persons formed a
confraternity, of which it seems I, or rather my prototype, Abram Skinner, was
a prominent member; and the objects of the association were to secure to each
member the fruits of his ambition with as little danger and trouble as
possible. We were a knot of what the censorious call stock-gamblers; and by
working in common, and playing into each other’s hands, without taking pains to
acknowledge any connexion, we were pretty sure of our game.
It is astonishing how
soon I entered into the spirit of my new character. On previous occasions, the
adaption of soul to body was a work of time; but here it seemed the work of but
a fewhours. The cause was, however, simple; Abram Skinner was possessed of but
one, or, at most, two characteristics, and with these I easily became familiar.
The love of money was the ruling passion; and this, I honestly confess, came to
me so naturally, that I was not conscious, while giving up my whole soul to it,
of any change of character whatever. Before I left the house I was as busy
shaving notes, receiving bonds, mortgages, and pledges (for Abram Skinner was a
gambler of all work), and devising schemes for “cornering” and blowing high and
low in the stock-market, as if I had been born to the business.
I found on my books the
records of all imaginable operations, from the mem. of a thousand shares of the
Moonlight Manufacturing Company, bought of A. B. on time, to the entry of “Mrs.
C. D.’s silver spoons and pitcher, purchased” (Abram Skinner scorned all
dealing on pawns, that being illegal to the unlicensed) “at such a sum, but
redeemable at such another sum, which was generally at fifty per cent. advance,
on a certain day, or--forfeit.” Here was a memorandum of a note bought at half
its value, there of a mortgage taken in form of a purchase; and in other places
a thousand other forfeitures, such as marked the extent and universality of
business, the skill, the forethought, and the success of Abram Skinner the
shaver.
I have my compunctions
when I think of the life I led that winter; for so long did I continue the life
of a money-maker. But I entreat thereader to remember that I had got into Abram
Skinner’s body, and that the burden of my acts should be therefore laid upon
his shoulders. A swearing gentleman once borrowed a Quaker’s great-coat, with a
promise not to dishonour it by any profanity while it was on his back; upon
returning it to his friend, he was demanded if he had kept his promise. “Yes,”
said the man of interjections, with one of the most emphatic; “but it has kept
me lying all the time.” I never heard anybody doubt that the lying was the fault
of the coat; and, in like manner, I hope that the reader will not hesitate to
attribute all my actions, while in Abram Skinner’s body, to Abram Skinner’s
body itself.
Besides my friends of
the honest fraternity, I had other visiters before my infirmities permitted me
to leave the house; and the dealings I had with them, besides enabling me to
get my hand in, as the saying is, would afford the reader, if described, some
insight into the excellences of my new character.
But I cannot pause over
such pictures in detail. The rulers then over us, to please the poor, had got
up a pressure in the money-market, whereby the poor were, as is usual in such
cases, put under contribution by the rich. Such a pressure, however, may be
said to please everybody, though it puts everybody in a passion. To the rich,
who have money to lend, it is as great a season of jubilee as a rain-strom to
ducks, or a high wind to the bristly herd in an apple-orchard, and they arein a
passion because they fear it will be soon over; to the poor, who borrow their
money at a higher rate than usual, it affords an opportunity to rail at the
aristocracy, and the grinders of the poor; which is a pleasing recreation after
a bad dinner. At such times Abram Skinner was a happy man, for he made money
without the trouble of stirring from his house: every knock at the door was the
signal of a god-send; every jerk at the bell was as the jingle of coming
dollars and cents.
It was at such a season
that I entered the shaver’s body. The knocks at my door were frequent, and the
demands of my visiters to be brought into presence irresistible. What cared
they for my pains and sickness?--they wanted money: what cared I for my pains
and sickness? --I was anxious to make it. I ordered my house-keeper Barbara
(for it seems I was such a niggard I had no other servant) to admit all
well-dressed applicants; for I scorned to deal with any other.
The first person
admitted was a woman, very good looking, but advanced in years. She kept a
boarding-house, but, as Barbara informed me, had seen better days, having been
the wife of a richmerchant, who failed, was absurd enough to keep his books so
straight as to allow no opportunity for defrauding his creditors, surrendered
up every cent of his property, and died a beggar, leaving a widow and six
orphan daughters to lament his honesty.
She was in some little
flurry and perturbation of spirits, but I spoke with a blandness that
astonished myself, until I found that this was always my practice with a
customer whom I was not tired of. This restored her to confidence and
garrulity.
Her tale was soon
told:--her boarders were all very fine gentlemen and ladies, and good pay; but
the times were so hard, they were just at this moment compelled to pay with
promises; with which coin her landlord was not so easily satisfied. She would
not distress poor Mr. G., who owed her a hundred and fifty dollars, nor Mr. H.,
nor Mrs. I., who were all in a peck of trouble just then, but were well enough
to do in the world--no, not she; she had heard I was so good as often to lend
to people who wanted money for a few days, even when the banks would not,
provided they were good and safe; and who was better and safer than she? With
all her troubles, and the Lord he knew they were many and enough, she had
always paid her debts, and she defied anybody to say the contrary: and so she
hoped I would be so good as to oblige her with the small sum of two
hundred-dollars, which, upon her honest word, she would pay as soon as she had
the money.
To this eloquent
suggestion I answered (and I doubt if the true Abram Skinner could have
answered better) by lamenting her difficulties, and assuring her I was in as
great trouble as herself, not having a cent at command that I could call my own
(the iron chest told another story, and there were divers handsome hundreds
placed to my credit in three or four different banks); nevertheless I had a
little money belonging to a friend, which I thought I might make so free as to
lend to one of her excellent character and standing; but that would be taking a
great responsibility on my shoulders, &c. &c., in terms which the
reader can easily imagine; and I concluded by hinting, that if she had any
plate or other valuables to deposite as a security, it would save her the
trouble of giving her note, and the inconvenience such an instrument might
prove to her, if my friend’s necessities should comple him to throw it into the
market.
The widow, delighted
with my frankness, and penetrated by my friendliness, ran home, and returned
with a basket of chattels to the value of perhaps three hundred and fifty
dollars.
“Very good,” said I; “you
shall have the money, though I should have to pay for it myself.”
“Sure,” said she, “but
you are a good obliging man, and I shall be much beholden: and sure, but I
thought all pawnbrokers had golden balls at their doors.”
“Madam,” said I, “thank
your good fortune that I am not a pawnbroker. Had you gone to such aperson you
would have paid dear for your money, and perhaps lost your silver into the
bargain. Now, supposing this silver to be worth three hundred dollars--”
“Three hundred
lack-a-daisies!” said the old lady, “why, it cost more than four hundred
dollars; for I remember the coffee-pot--”
“Yes, ma’am,” said I; “that
was the cost of making: I reckon the silver at about three hundred dollars,
though that is a large allowance. Now, had you taken this to a pawnbroker, what
do you think he would have loaned you on it?”
“To be sure, and I
suppose; but I can’t say.”
“One hundred dollars,
perhaps, if a moderate fellow,” said I; “but I am another sort of man; I scorn
to take any advantage of any one. Yes,” said I, feeling warm and virtuous, “I
scorn them there fellows that take advantage, and grind down the poor to the
last mite. I, Mrs.--, hum, ha, Mrs.--”
“Mrs. Smith,” said the
old lady, eying me with admiration.
“I, Mrs. Smith, will
treat you in another way; I will let you have what you want--the full two
hundred dollars, for the space of thirty days, and charge you but twenty-five
dollars for the favour.”
“Sure,” said Mrs.
Smith, “and that’s dear.”
“On the contrary,
madam,” said I, “it is but twelve and a half per cent. a month, whereas money
will often fetch fifteen.”
“Will it, indeed?” said
the foolish widow; “andsure but you must know better than myself. Well, then,
Mr. Skinner, let me have the two hundred dollars, and you shall have the plate
in pawn.”
“No, ma’am,” said I, “none
but a pawnbroker can do that. A gentleman like myself does this sort of thing
in another manner; for were I to receive this silver as a pawn, you might
prosecute me for it in court, and make me pay a fine. The way we do is this; I
buy the plate of you, for two hundred dollars, taking a receipt from you for
that amount, and granting you, on my part, a written permission to purchase the
same back again, this day month, for the sum of two hundred and twenty-five
dollars.”
“La!” said the old
lady, “is that the way? But what if I should not get the money in a month?”
“Why, then,” said I,
with a look of benevolence, “why, then, I think I must give you a month longer.”
“Sure and you are the
best man in the world,” said Mrs. Smith; “and you think my silver won’t be in
no danger? and you’ll lock it up in some big iron chest? for thieves are quite
thick already; and your paper to buy again will be just as good as a pawnbroker’s
certificate?”
I hastened to satisfy
the old lady’s mind on this and all other subjects. I then wrote out a receipt,
which I caused her to subscribe, being a due acknowledgment on her part of
having sold me certain specified articles of plate; after which I delivered her
a paper, in which, without troubling myself to make any reference to the
conveyance, I covenanted to sell her the same articles, at the price mentioned
before, at the expiration of thirty days.
With this and the two
hundred dollars which I now gave her, the foolish woman departed very well
satisfied; and as for me, I actually rubbed my hands together with the delight
of having made such a good bargain. I say again, old Skinner himself could not
have managed the affair with greater address than myself; and, young as I was
in his body, I felt as much satisfaction at having overreached a silly old
woman, as ever a less avaricious man felt at deluding a young one. This was
small game, to be sure, for a man who dabbled in stocks, and counted profits,
not by dollars, but by hundreds and thousands; but, as I said before, Abram
Skinner was a man of all work, who thought no gain small enough to be despised,
and who cheated a single tatterdemalion with as much zeal as he would fleece a
community.
The end of the bargain
was this: in a month’s time Mrs. Smith called on me again, but without money;
whereupon I spoke to her with greater benevolence than before, assured her she
need not be distressed, and renewed the engagement between us by adding
twenty-five dollars (the interest upon the money advanced) to the sums
specified in the conveyance and covenant; and the same amount I added at the
expiration of the second month. And this course I intended to pursue for two
months more, until the amount of interest should swell thepurchase-money to
three hundred dollars; after which I designed to close the bargain, and
consider the silver fairly purchased.
If anybody supposes I
treated the old woman ill --that I acted dishonestly, and even illegally, in
the matter--all I have to say is, that I only did what Abram Skinner the shaver
had done a thousand times before me, and what, I have no doubt, other worthy
gentlemen of his tribe have done after me. He who rides with the devil must put
up with his driving; and he who deals with his nephews must look for something
warmer than burnt fingers.
The transaction with
Mrs. Smith was a sample of divers others, begun and conducted on the same
principles, though involving more momentous profits. The system of forfeitures,
as practised by a skilful hand, is applicable to all species of property, and I
practised it with great effect in the case of houses and lands, and the Lord
knows what besides. The “pressure” continued long; and I think I should have
made a handsome fortune in the course of the winter out of this single branch
of my business alone, had not destiny arrested me in the midst of a prosperous
career, and left the business to be settled by my administrators.
But this was but a
branch, and a small one, of my profession. My noblest blows were struck at the
community at large; and struck in that most magnificent of gambling-fields, the
stock-market. My skill here--for I inherited all the sagacity and daring that
had distinguished the original owner of my body--was such as to keep me at the
head of that confraternity of which I have spoken before I was the very devil
among the fancy stocks; and had the good luck to originate and conduct a stroke
of cornering, by which no less than twenty young shop-keepers, who were
ambitious to be seen on ’change and in brokers’ offices, and to dare that
achievement of audacity, selling on time, were smashed like coal-candlesticks,
and half as many wiser and richer desperadoes were driven to the verge of ruin.
My chief strength,
indeed, was shown in the management of small stocks, and especially those that
were good for nothing, and more especially still in southern mining-companies.
It was here that we of the Clipping Club, as the members of the fraternity
delighted to call themselves, found our fairest opportunity to prey upon those
passions of cupidity and terror which lay the ignorant at themercy of the knowing.
No one knew better than myself how to get up or depress such a stock. I knew
how many ignorant widows, poor parsons, infirm artisans, and other needy
persons were to be cajoled, by the prospect of handsome and increasing
dividends, to invest their petty savings when it could be done at small
premiums; and I knew how easily the terror of loss could drive them out of
their investments. To say the truth, the principal business of myself and my
brother clippers was to bob for such minnows; and it is incredible how they
bite, though it is only to be bitten. A few words scattered at random, and
still fewer uttered in confidence, were enough to send shoals of these unlucky
creatures to swallow what we thought proper to sell; and a few doubts and long
faces, added to the throwing away at low prices of a few dozen shares, sufficed
to convert the trembling holders into sellers, whenever we deemed it advisable
to buy. In this way I have known a pet stock to be tossed up and down like a
ball, while every ascent and downfall served the purpose of filling the pockets
of the fraternity and emptying those of the victims.
In such occupations as
these passed three months of my existence, and, sinner that I am, I thought
that they passed very honestly. The spirit of Abram Skinner had left such a
taint of rascality in his body, that my own was thoroughly imbued with it; from
which I infer that a man’s body is like a barrel, which, if you salt fish in it
once, will makefish of every thing you put into it afterward. A grain of lying
or thieving, or any such spicy propensity, infused into the youthful breast by
a tender parent, will give a scent to the spirit for life; and as this is a
fact, I recommend parents to take no notice of it,--not supposing parents will
take advice, except by contraries. The passion of Abram Skinner destroyed every
trait that had belonged to Sheppard Lee; and as for those I had taken from John
H. Higginson and I. D. Dawkins, they were lost in like manner. I was Abram
Skinner, and nothing but Abram Skinner. I scarce remembered that I had ever
been any thing else. I am freenow to confess, what I was not so certain of
then, though I had my doubts on the matter at times,-- namely, that in
labouring so hard after lucre, I was only striving to sell my soul to the
greatest advantage.
Idleness is said to be
the root of all evil. The root of much evil I never doubted it was. But my
experience in the body of Abram Skinner has convinced me, that the industry to
which a man is goaded by the love of money is the root of much greater evil,--of
a bigger upas, indeed, than ever sprung from the bed of the sluggard. The idler
may betake him to the bottle, as the idler usually does, and then lapse into a
reprobate, which is a common consequence; but, at the worst, his crimes are
committed at the expense of individuals. The man of avarice drinks out of his
purse, which intoxicates quite as deeply as the bowl, makes war
uponcommunities, preys legally upon his neighbour’s pocket, and just as legally
consigns his neighbour’s children to want and beggary, from which it appears
that he is a drunkard, thief, and murderer, just as naturally as the idler. The
latter, by indulging his propensity, loses his character; the former, by
indulging his, loses all those generous sentiments and feelings, the sense of honour
and instinct of integrity, upon which character should be founded. The man who
enriches himself by extracting wealth from the soil and the bowels of the
earth, or by the practice of any art or business which supplies the necessaries
of life, or ministers to the convenience of society, makes his money
virtuously, and deserves to enjoy it in honour; but he who gains a fortune by
the mere gambling legerdemain of speculation, by turning his neighbour’s
pockets wrong side out, is--not so much of a Christian as he supposes. My
honest opinion, formed after much reflection and experience, is, that bulls and
bears are as little likely to go to heaven as any other animals.
In regard to myself, I
am as free to confess, that my course of life while in Abram Skinner’s body was
deserving of all reprobation. I hope that the acts I then committed may be laid
to old Skinner’s door; but, for fear of a mistake, I have endeavoured to repent
them, as being sins of my own committing: and this course I recommend to all
those good folks who are persuaded their peccadilloes are the fault of others,
and for the same reason,--namely, lest they should be mistaken. I confess also
that I had my doubts, even at the time of committing them, of the righteousness
of my acts, and that I sometimes had bad dreams: but the fury of avarice
stilled the pangs of conscience, as the fury of wrath and battle stills those
of the wounded soldier.
Having made these
admissions, I will now betake me to my story.
END OF VOL. I