PS Z070 A^ria L No.174-175. :^ ==3;: i: - ir:^ i . r - i t a (==» c=ssp CSKa «=::) csrm er^ia s ^1 i E=3~-i:3^J^i— T~f-li-P=!—[-Ti— 1-^ r ■"=•1 MAYNARD'S English • Classic • Series miESJO'mMiERi Washington Irving. ^ sE ^ (ffarMti :is;j"<^ tssui p KEW YORK Maynard, Merrill 6c Co. 43,45 & 47 East 102 St. li IF' V! i) 1 IaiiffigiMc8 24cts. ENGLISH CLASSIC SERIES, FOR Classes in English Literature, Reading, Grammar, ete« EDITED BY EMINENT ENGLISH AND AMERICAN SCHOLARS. Each Volume contains a Sketch of the Author^ s Life^ Prefatory and Explanatory Notes^ etc., etc. 1 Byron's Prophecy of Dante. (Cantos I. and II.) 3 Milton's L' Allegro, and II Pen- seroso. 3 liord Bacon's !Essays, Civil and Moral. (Selected.) 4 Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. 5 Moore's Fire Worshippers. (Lalla Rookh. Selected.) 6 Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 7 Scott's from Ci 8 Scott's L (Introdi 9 Burns'sr and oth 10 Crabbe'i 11 Campbe (Abridg 12 Macaula • Pilgrii 13 Macaula Poems. 14 Shakesp nice. III.,anc 15 Goldsmi 16 Hogg's i meny. 17 Colerid^ 31 Irving's Sketch Book. (Selec- tions.) 32 Dickens's Christmas Carol. (Condensed.) 33 Carlyle's Hero as a Prophet. 34 Macaulay's Warren Hastings. ■ (Condensed.) 35 Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake- field. (Condensed.) 36 Tennyson's The Two Voices, ^3Lir Women. s. LIBRARWOF CONGRESS. @^pES ^mm¥ 1o.2.q?4 Shelf.. UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 18 Addison's sir Koger ti« 'uoverjr- ley. 19 Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard. 30 Scott^s liady of the liake. (Canto 31 Shakespeare's As You Like It, etc. (Selections.) 33 Shakespeare's King John, and Richard II. (Selections.) 33 Shakespeare's Henry IV., Hen- ry V., Henry VI. (Selections.) 34 Shakespeare's Henry VIII., and Julius Caesar. (Selections.) 35 Wordsworth's Excursion. (Bk.I.) 36 Pope's Essay on Criticism. 37 Spenser'sFaerieQueene. (Cantos I. and II.) 38 Cowper's Task. (Book I.) 39 Milton's Comus. 30 Tennyson's Enoch Arden, Th'b Lotus Eaters, Ulysses, and Tithonus. , laughed when others laughed; but always put the joke to the question. He never could enjoy the kernel of the nut, but pestered himself to get more out of the shell. " Do you believe in ghosts, then ? " said the 10 inquisitive gentleman. " Faith, but I do," replied the jovial Irishman. "I was brought up in the fear and belief of them. We had a Benshee in our own family, honey." "A Benshee, and what's that?" cried the ques- 15 tioner. " Why, an old lady ghost that tends upon your real Milesian families, and waits at their window to let them know when some of them are to die." " A mighty pleasant piece of information ! " cried 20 an elderly gentleman with a knowing look and with a flexible nose, to which he could give a whimsical twist when he wished to be waggish. " By my soul, but I 'd have you to know it 's a piece of distinction to be waited on by a Benshee. It's a 25 proof that one has pure blood in one's veins. But i' faith, now we are talking of ghosts, there never was a house or a night better fitted than the present for a ghost adventure. Pray, Sir John, have n't you such a thing as a haunted chamber to put a guest in ? " 30 " Perhaps," said the Baronet, smiling, " I might ac- commodate you even on that point." 14 TALES OF A TRAVELER " Oh, I should like it of all things, my jewel. Some dark oaken-room, with ugly woe-begone portraits, that stare dismally at one; and about which the house- keeper has a power of delightful stories of love and 5 murder. And then a dim lamp, a table with a rusty sword across it, and a spectre all in white, to draw aside one's curtains at midnight" " In truth," said an old gentleman at one end of the table, "you put me in mind of an anecdote" 10 " Oh, a ghost-story ! a ghost-story ! " was vociferated round the board, every one edging his chair a little nearer. The attention of the whole company was now turned upon the speaker. He was an old gentleman, one side 15 of whose face was no match for the other. The eye- lid drooped and hung down like an unhinged window- shutter. Indeed, the whole side of his head was di- lapidated, and seemed like the v/ing of a house shut up and haunted. I '11 warrant that side was well stuffed 20 with ghost-stories. There was a universal demand for the tale. " Kay," said the old gentleman, " it's a mere anecdote, and a very commonplace one ; but such as it is you shall have it. It is a story that I once heard my uncle 25 tell as having happened to himself. He was a man very apt to meet with strange adventures. I have heard him tell of others much more singular." " What kind of a man was your uncle ? " said the questioning gentleman. 30 cc Why, he was rather a dry, shrewd kind of body ; a great traveler, and fond of telling his adven- tures." THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 15 " Pray, how old might he have been when that happened?" " When what happened? " cried the gentleman with the flexible nose, impatiently. " Egad, you have not given anything a chance to happen. Come, never 5 mind our uncle's age ; let us have his adventures." The inquisitive gentleman being for the moment silenced, the old gentleman with the haunted head proceeded. The Adventures of my Uncle Many years since, some time before the French 10 Revolution, my uncle passed several months at Paris. The English and French were on better terms in those days than at present, and mingled cordially in society. The English went abroad to spend money then, and the French were always ready to help them : they go 15 abroad to save money at present, and that they can do without French assistance. Perhaps the traveling English were fewer and choicer than at present, when the whole nation has broke loose and inundated the continent. At any rate, they circulated more readily 2a and currently in foreign society, and my uncle, during his residence in Paris, made many very intimate acquaintances among the French noblesse. Some time afterwards, he was making a journey in 19. Broke. Broken is the more common form to-day. 23. Noblesse. Nobility. 1 6 TALES OF A TRA VELER the winter-time in that part of ISTormandy called the Pays de Caux, when, as evening was closing in, he perceived the turrets of an ancient chateau rising out of the trees of its walled park ; each turret with its 5 high conical roof of gray slate like a candle with an extinguisher on it. " To whom does that chateau belong, friend ? " cried my uncle to a meagre but fiery postilion, who, with tremendous jack-boots and cocked hat, was floundering 10 on before him. " To Monseigneur the Marquis de " said the pos- tilion, touching his hat, partly out of respect to my uncle, and partly out of reverence to the noble name pronounced. 15 My uncle recollected the Marquis for a particular friend in Paris, who had often expressed a wish to see him at his paternal chateau. My uncle was an old traveler, one who knew well how to turn things to ac- count. He revolved for a few moments in his mind, 20 how agreeable it would be to his friend the Marquis to be surprised in this sociable way by a pop visit ; and how much more agreeable to himself to get into snug quarters in a chateau, and have a relish of the Mar- quis' well-known kitchen, and a smack of his superior 25 Champagne and Burgundy, rather than put up with the miserable lodgment and miserable fare of a pro- vincial inn. In a few minutes, therefore, the meagre postilion was cracking his whip like a very devil, or like a true Frenchman, up the long, straight avenue 30 that led to the chateau. You have no doubt all seen French chateaus, as everybody travels in France nowadays. This was one THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 17 of the oldest ; standing naked and alone in the midst of a desert of gravel walks and cold stone terraces ; with a cold-looking, formal garden, cut into angles and rhomboids ; and a cold, leafless park, divided geomet- rically by straight alleys ; and two or three cold-look- 5 ing, noseless statues; and fountains spouting cold water enough to make one's teeth chatter. At least such was the feeling they imparted on the wintry day of my uncle's visit ; though, in hot summer weather, I'll warrant there was glare enough to scorch one's 10 eyes out. The smacking of the postilion's whip, which grew more and more intense the nearer they approached, frightened a flight of pigeons out of a dove-cot, and rooks out of the roofs, and finally a crew of servants 15 out of the chateau, with the Marquis at their head. He was enchanted to see my uncle, for his chateau, like the house of our worthy host, had not many more guests at the time than it could accommodate. So he kissed my uncle on each cheek, after the French fash- 20 ion, and ushered him into the castle. The Marquis did the honors of the house with the ur- banity of his country. In fact, he was proud of his old family chateau, for part of it was extremely old. There was a tower and chapel which had been built almost be- 25 fore the memory of man ; but the rest was more modern, the castle having been nearly demolished during the wars of the league. The Marquis dwelt upon this event with great satisfaction, and seemed really to en- 28. Wars of the Leag^ue. A Catholic league was formed at Peronne in 1576 to prevent the accession of Henry IV., the leader of the Huguenot party, to the throne of France. It resulted in civil war in which Henry IV. was finally victorious. l8 TALES OF A TEA VELER tertain a grateful feeling towards Henry the Fourth, for having thought his paternal mansion worth bat- tering down. He had many stories to tell of the prowess of his ancestors ; and several sl<:ull-caps, hel- 5 mets, and cross-bows, and divers huge boots and buff jerkins, to show, which had been worn by the leaguers. Above all, there was a two-handed sword, which he could hardly wield, but which he displayed, as a proof that there had been giants in his family. 10 In truth, he was but a small descendant from such great warriors. When you looked at their bluff visages and brawny limbs, as depicted in their portraits, and then at the little Marquis, with his spindle shanks, and his sallow lantern visage, flanked with a pair of pow- isdered ear-locks, or ailes de pigeon that seemed ready to fly away with it, you could hardly believe him to be of the same race. But when you looked at the eyes that sparkled out like a beetle's from each side of his hooked nose, you saw at once that he inherited all the 20 fiery spirit of his forefathers. In fact, a Frenchman's spirit never exhales, however his body may dwindle. It rather rarefies, and grows more inflammable, as the earthly particles diminish; and I have seen valor enough in a little fiery-hearted French dwarf to have 25 furnished out a tolerable giant. When once the Marquis, as was his wont, put on one of the old helmets stuck up in his hall, though his head no more filled it than a dry pea its peascod, yet his eyes flashed from the bottom of the iron cavern 30 with the brilliancy of carbuncles; and when he poised the ponderous two-handed sword of his ancestors, you 15. Ailes de Pigeon. Pigeon wings. THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 19 would have thought you saw the doughty little David wielding the sword of Goliath, which was unto him like a weaver's beam. However, gentlemen, I am dwelling too long on this description of the Marquis and his chateau, but you 5 must excuse me ; he was an old friend of my uncle ; and whenever my uncle told the story, he was always fond of talking a great deal about his host. — Poor little Marquis ! He was one of that handful of gallant cour- tiers who made such a devoted but hopeless stand in 10 the cause of their sovereign, in the chateau of the Tuileries, against the irruption of the mob on the sad tenth of August. He displayed the valor of a preux French chevalier to the last; flourishing feebly his little court-sword with a pa-pa/ in face of a whole 15 legion of sans-culottes ; but was pinned to the wall like a butterfly, by the pike of '^ poissarde^ and his heroic soul was borne up to heaven on his ailes de pigeon. But all this has nothing to do- with my story. To the point, then. When the hour arrived for retiring 20 for the night, my uncle was shown to his room in a venerable old tower. It was the oldest part of the 13. Sad Tenth of August. On the 10th of August, 1792, an armed mob broke into the royal palace of the Taileries in Paris and put to death every person found within it. A determined stand was made against the attack by the Swiss Guard and a few courtiers. ''The fugitives, pursued into the gardens of the Tuileries, were murdered under the trees, amidst the fountains, and at the feet of the statues. Some wretches climbed up the marble monuments which adorn that splendid spot. The insurgents re- frained from firing, lest they should injure the statuary, but pricked them with their bayonets till they came down and then slaughtered them at their feet ; an instance of taste for art mingled with revolutionary cruelty, un- paralleled in the history of the world." — Alison'' s History of Europe. 13. Preuxo Gallant. 1 5. Ca=Ca I The exclamation of a swordsman as he thrusts. '' So, so ! " 16. Sans=Culottes. The revolutionary populace were so called by the royal party. The word means " without breeches.'" 17. Posssarde. Fish women. Men, women, and children participated in the frenzied riots of the Revolution, 20 TALES OF A TRAVELER chateau, and had in ancient times been the donjon or stronghold; of course the chamber was none of the best. The Marquis had put him there, however, be- cause he knew him to be a traveler of taste, and fond 5 of antiquities ; and also because the better apartments were already occupied. Indeed, he perfectly reconciled my uncle to his quarters by mentioning the great per- sonages who had once inhabited them, all of whom were, in some way or other, connected with the family. 10 If you would take his word for it, John Baliol, or as he called him, Jean de Bailleul, had died of chagrin in this very chamber, on hearing of the success of his rival, Robert the Bruce, at the Battle of Bannockburn. And when he added that the Duke de Guise had slept 1 5 in it, my uncle was fain to felicitate himself on being honored with such distinguished quarters. The night was shrewd and windy, and the chamber none of the warmest. An old long-faced, long-bodied servant, in quaint livery, who attended upon my uncle^ 20 threw down an armful of wood beside the fireplace, gave a queer look about the room, and then wished him hon repos with a grimace and a shrug that would have been suspicious from any other than an old French servant. 25 The chamber had indeed a wild, crazy look, enough to strike any one who had read romances with appre- 10. John Baliol. (1249-1315). A deposed King of Scotland. He took refuge in France and died in obscurity, leaving the crown in English hands. 13. Robert the Bruce. (1274-1329). Robert Bruce was successful in what John Baliol had failed in, and at the Battle of Bannockburn (1314) com- pletely defeated the English and established the independence of Scotland. 14. Duke de Guise. One of the two of thatiiarne, leaders of the Catholic party in the Wars of the League. 23. Bon Repos. Good-night, THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 21 hension and foreboding. The windows were high and narrow, and had once been loop-holes, but had been rudely enlarged, as well as the extreme thickness of the walls would permit ; and the ill-fitted casements rattled to every breeze. You would have thought, on s a windy night, some of the old leaguers were tramping and clanking about the apartment in their huge boots and rattling spurs. A door which stood ajar, and, like a true French door, would stand ajar in spite of every reason and effort to the contrary, opened upon a long lo dark corridor, that led the Lord knows whither, and seemed just made for ghosts to air themselves in, when they turned out of their graves at midnight. The wind would spring up into a hoarse murmur through this passage and creak the door to and fro, as if some 15 dubious ghost were balancing in its mind whether to come in or not. In a word, it was precisely the kind of comfortless apartment that a ghost, if ghost there were in the chateau, would single out for its favorite lounge. 20 My uncle, however, though a man accustomed to meet with strange adventures, apprehended none at the time. He made several attempts to shut the door,, but in vain. ISTot that he apprehended anything, for he was too old a traveller to be daunted by a wild-looking 25; apartment ; but the night, as I have said, was cold and gusty, and the wind howled about the old turret pretty much as it does round this old mansion at this moment, and the breeze from the long dark corridor came in as damp and as chilly as if from a dungeon. My uncle, 30^ therefore, since he could not close the door, threw a quantity of wood on the fire, which soon sent up a 22 TALES OF A TRAVELER flame in the great wide-mouthed chimney that illumined the whole chamber ; and made the shadow of the tongs on the opposite wall look like a long-legged giant. My uncle now clambered on the top of the half-score of 5 mattresses which form a French bed, and which stood in a deep recess ; then tucking himself snugly in, and burying himself up to the chin in the bedclothes, he lay looking at the fire, and listening to the wind, and thinking how knowingly he had come over his friend lothe Marquis for a night's lodging — and so he fell asleep. He had not taken above half of his first nap when he was awakened by the clock of the chateau, in the turret over his chamber, which struck midnight. It 15 was just such an old clock as ghosts are fond of. It had a deep, dismal tone, and struck so slowly and tedi- ously that my uncle thought it would never have done. He counted and counted till he was confident he counted thirteen, and then it stopped. 20 The fire had burned low, and the blaze of the last fagot was almost expiring, burning in small blue fiames, which now and then lengthened up into little white gleams. My uncle lay with his eyes half closed, and his nightcap drawn almost down to his nose. His 25 fancy was already wandering, and began to mingle up the present scene with the crater of Vesuvius, the French Opera, the Coliseum at Rome, Dolly's chop- house in London, and all the farrago of noted places 27. Coliseum. The ruins of the Flavian Amphitheatre at Rome, which would seat nearly 90,000 spectators, and covered about six acres of ground. Its extensive remains, still existing, were long a quarry for the erection of modern edifices. 27. Dolly's Chop=House. A famous old London eating-place in Queen's Head Passage, Paternoster Row and Newgate Street, now torn down. THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 23 with which the brain of a traveler is crammed, — in a word, he was just falling asleep. Suddenly he was roused by the sound of footsteps, slowly pacing along the corridor. My uncle, as I have often heard him say himself, was a man not easily 5 frightened. So he lay quiet, supposing this some other guest, or some servant on his way to bed. The foot- steps, however, approached the door ; the door gently opened ; whether of its own accord, or whether pushed open, my uncle could not distinguish : a figure all in 10 white glided in. It was a female, tall and stately, and of a commanding air. Her dress was of an ancient fashion, ample in volume, and sweeping the floor. She walked up to the fireplace, without regarding my uncle, who raised his nightcap with one hand, and stared 15 earnestly at her. She remained for some time stand- ing by the fire, which, flashing up at intervals, cast blue and white gleams of light, that enabled my uncle to remark her appearance minutely. Her face was ghastly pale, and perhaps rendered still 20 more so by the bluish light of the fire. It possessed beauty, but its beauty was saddened by care and anxi- ety. There was the look of one accustomed to trouble, but of one whom trouble could not cast down nor sub- due ; for there was still the predominating air of proud, 25 unconquerable resolution. Such at least was the opin- ion formed by my uncle, and he considered himself a great physiognomist. The figure remained, as I said, for some time by the fire, putting out first one hand, then the other ; then each 30 foot alternately, as if warming itself ; for your ghosts, if ghost it really was, are apt to be cold. My uncle, fur- 24. TALES OF A TRA VELER thermore, remarked that it wore high-heeled shoes, after an ancient fashion, with paste or diamond buckles, that sparkled as though they were alive. At length the figure turned gently round, casting a glassy look about 5 the apartment, which, as it passed over my uncle, made his blood run cold, and chilled the very marrow in his bones. It then stretched its arms towards heaven, clasped its hands, and wringing them in a supplicating manner, glided slowly out of the room. 10 My uncle lay for some time meditating on this visita- tion, for (as he remarked when he told me the story) though a man of firmness, he was also a man of reflec- tion, and did not reject a thing because it was out of the regular course of events. However, being, as I have 15 before said, a great traveler, and accustomed to strange adventures, he drew his nightcap resolutely over his eyes, turned his back to the door, hoisted the bed- clothes high over his shoulders, and gradually fell asleep. 20 How long he slept he could not say, when he was awakened by the voice of some one at his bedside. He turned round, and beheld the old French servant, with his ear-locks in tight buckles on each side of a long lantern face, on which habit had deeply wrinkled 25 an everlasting smile. He made a thousand grimaces, and asked a thousand pardons for disturbing Mon- sieur, but the morning was considerably advanced. While my uncle was dressing, he called vaguely to mind the visitor of the preceding night. He asked 30 the ancient domestic what lady was in the habit of rambling about this part of the chateau at night. The old valet shrugged his shoulders as high as his head, THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 25 laid one hand on his bosom, threw open the other with every finger extended, made a most whimsical grimace which he meant to be complimentary, and replied, that he knew nothing of the matter. My uncle saw there was nothing satisfactory to be 5 learned in this quarter. After breakfast, he was walk- ing with the Marquis through the modern apart- ments of the chateau, sliding over the well-waxed floors of silken saloons, amidst furniture rich in gild- ing and brocade, until they came to a long picture-gal- lo lery, containing many portraits, some in oil and some in chalks. Here was an ample field for the eloquence of his host, who had all the pride of a nobleman of the ancien regime. There was not a grand name in IsTor- 15 mandy, and hardly one in France, which was not, in some way or other, connected with his house. My uncle stood listening with inward impatience, resting sometimes on one leg, sometimes on the other, as the little Marquis descanted, with his usual fire and 20 vivacity, on the achievements of his ancestors, whose portraits hung along the wall ; frcm the martial deeds of the stern warriors in steel, to the gallantries and intrigues of the blue-eyed gentlemen, with fair, smiling faces, powdered ear-locks, laced ruffles, and 25 pink and blue silk coats and breeches ; — not forgetting the conquests of the lovely shepherdesses, with hooped petticoats, and waists no thicker than an hour-glass, who appeared ruling over their sheep and their 15. Ancien regime. A French phrase used to denote the historical period preceding the French Revolution. 26 TALES OF A TRA VELER swains, with dainty crooks decorated with fluttering ribbons. In the midst of his friend's discourse, my uncle was startled on beholding a full-length portrait, the' very 5 counterpart of his visitor of the preceding night. " Methinks," said he, pointing to it, " I have seen the original of this portrait." "Pardonnez moi," replied the Marquis politely, "that can hardly be, as the lady has been dead more lothan a hundred years. That was the beautiful Duchess de Longueville, who figured during the minority of Louis the Fourteenth." "And was there anything remarkable in her his- tory ? " 15 Never was question more unlucky. The little Mar- quis immediately threw himself into the attitude of a man about to tell a long story. In fact, my uncle had pulled upon himself the whole history of the civil war of the Fronde, in which the beautiful Duchess had 20 played so distinguished a part. Turenne, Coligni, Mazarin, were called up from their graves to grace his 8. Pardonnez=moi. Pardon me. 19. Fronde. This civil war (1648-1653) was an uprising of the people agaist the excessive taxation imposed by Mazarin during the minority of Louis XIV. '' The word fronde means a sling. The boys of Paris were accustomed to gather outside the walls of the city, and divide into two parties, which attacked each other with slings. On the approach of the guard they ran away, but only to return when they were gone. Some one, noticing that the intermittent action of the slingers resembled that of th«, parliament toward the court, applied the name to the former in jest. The term was adopted by the people at once, a frondeur meaning one who opposed the court ; a Mazarin, one who upheld it." — Anderson's History of France. 20. Turenne. (1611-1675). One of the greatest generals of Louis XIV. 20. Admiral Coligni. (1527-1572). The leader of the Huguenot party. He was assassinated at the wholesale massacre of Huguenots on St. Bar- tholomew's Day, 1572. 21. Cardinal Mazarin. (1602-1661). The Prime Minister of France during the minority of Louis XIV. THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 27 narration ; nor were the affairs of the Barricadoes, nor the chivalry of the Fortes Cocheres forgotten. My uncle began to wish himself a thousand leagues off from the Marquis and his merciless memory, when suddenly the little man's recollection took a more 5 interesting turn. He was relating the imprisonment of the Duke de Longueville with the Princes Conde and Conti ill the chateau of Vincennes, and the ineffectual efforts of the Duchess to rouse the sturdy Normans to their rescue. He had come to that part where she 10 was invested by the royal forces in the Castle of Dieppe. " The spirit of the Duchess," proceeded the Mar- quis, " rose from her trials. It was astonishing to see so delicate and beautiful a being buffet so resolutely 15 with hardships. She determined on a desperate means of escape. You may have seen the chateau in which she was mewed up, — an old ragged wart of an edifice, standing on the knuckle of a hill, just above the rusty little town of Dieppe. One dark unruly 20 night she issued secretly out of a small postern gate of the castle, which the enemy had neglected to guard. The postern gate is there to this very day ; opening upon a narrow bridge over a deep fosse between the castle and the brow of the hill. She was followed by 25 her female attendants, a few domestics, and some gal- lant cavaliers, who still remained faithful to her fort- 1. Barricadoes. The "Day of the Barricades," August 26, 1648, owed its name to a riot caused by the arrest of a popular leader. 2. Chivalry of the Portes Cocheres. In order to obtain troops, the parliamentary party called on each household to furnish one mounted man. Porte cochere means the entrance to the house for carriages. 6. Imprisonment. These three nobles were imprisoned for having taken the side of the /ronc^eurs. 28 Tales Of A TkA veler unes. Her bbject was to gain a small port about two leagues distant, where she had privately provided a vessel for her escape in case of emergency. " The little band of fugitives were obliged to per- 5 form the distance on foot. When they arrived at the port the wind was high and stormy, the tide contrary, the vessel anchored far off in the road, and no means of getting on board but by a fishing-shallop which lay tossing like a cockle-shell on the edge of the surf. 10 The Duchess determined to risk the attempt. The seamen endeavored to dissuade her, but the immi- nence of her danger on shore, and the magnanimity of her spirit, urged her on. She had to be borne to the shallop in the arms of a mariner. Such was the 15 violence of the wind and waves that he faltered, lost his foothold, and let his precious burden fall into the sea. "The Duchess was nearly drowned, but partly through her own struggles, partly by the exertions of 20 the seamen, she got to land. As soon as she had a lit- tle recovered strength, she insisted on renewing the attempt. The storm, however, had by this time be- come so violent as to set all efforts at defiance. To delay, was to be discovered and taken prisoner. As 25 the only resource left, she procured horses, mounted with her female attendants, en croupe^ behind the gal- lant gentlemen who accompanied her, and scoured the country to seek some temporary asylum. "While the Duchess," continued the Marquis, lay- so ing his forefinger on my uncle's breast to arouse his 26. En Croupe. Riding back of the saddle. THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 29 flagging attention, — " while the Duchess, poor lady, was wandering amid the tempest in this disconsolate manner, she arrived at this chateau. Her approach caused some uneasiness ; for the clattering of a troop of horse at dead of night up the avenue of a lonely 5 chateau, in those unsettled times, and in a troubled part of the country, was enough to occasion alarm. "A tall, broad-shouldered chasseur, armed to the teeth, galloped ahead, and announced the name of the visitor. All uneasiness was dispelled. The household ^^ turned out with flambeaux to receive her, and never did torches gleam on a more weather-beaten, travel- stained band than came tramping into the court. Such pale, careworn faces, such bedraggled dresses, as the poor Duchess and her females presented, each seated 15 behind her cavalier : while the half-drenched, half- drowsy pages and attendants seemed ready to fall from their horses with sleep and fatigue. " The Duchess was received with a hearty welcome by my ancestor. She was ushered into the hall of the ^o chateau, and the fires soon crackled and blazed, to cheer herself and her train ; and every spit and stew- pan was put in requisition to prepare ample refresh- ment for the wayfarers. " She had a right to our hospitalities," continued 25 the Marquis, drawing himself up with a slight degree of stateliness, " for she was related to our family. I'll tell you how it was. Her father, Henry de Bourbon, Prince of Conde" "But did the Duchess pass the night in the cha-30 8. Chasseur. Originally the word meant a huntsman, here used for a servant. 30 TALES OF A TRA VELER teau ? " said my uncle rather abruptly, terrified at the idea of getting involved in one of the Marquis' genea- logical discussions. " Oh, as to the Duchess, she was put into the very 5 apartment you occupied last night, which at that time was a kind of state-apartment. Her followers were quartered in the chambers opening upon the neighbor- ing corridor, and her favorite page slept in an adjoin- ing closet. Up and down the corridor walked the 10 great chasseur who had announced her arrival, and who acted as a kind of sentinel or guard. He was a dark, stern, powerful-looking fellow ; and as the light of a lamp in the corridor fell upon his deeply-marked face and sinewy form, he seemed capable of defending 15 the castle with his single arm. "It was a rough, rude night; about this time of the year — apropos ! — now I think of it, last night was the anniversary of her visit. I may well remember the precise date, for it was a night not to be forgotten by 20 our house. There is a singular tradition concerning it in our family." Here the Marquis hesitated, and a cloud seemed to gather about his bushy eyebrows. " There is a tradition — that a strange occurrence took place that night — a strange, mysterious, inexplicable 25 occurrence." Here he checked himself, and paused. "Did it relate to that lady?" inquired my uncle, eagerly. " It was past the hour of midnight," resumed the 30 Marquis, " when the whole chateau " Here he paused again. My uncle made a movement of anxious curiosity. THE ADVENTURES OF MY UNCLE 31 "Excuse me," said the Marquis, a slight blush streaking his sallow visage. " There are some circum- stances connected with our family history which I do not like to relate. That was a rude period. A time of great crimes among great men : for you know high 5 blood, when it runs wrong, will not run tamely, like blood of the canaille — poor lady ! — but I have a little family pride, that — excuse me — we will change the subject, if you please " My uncle's curiosity was piqued. The pompous and 10 magnificent introduction had led him to expect some- thing wonderful in the story to which it served as a kind of avenue. He had no idea of being cheated out of it by a sudden fit of unreasonable squeamishness. Besides, being a traveler in quest of information, he 15 considered it his duty to inquire into everything. The Marquis, however, evaded every question. "Well," said my uncle, a little petulantly, "what- ever you may think of it, I saw that lady last night." The Marquis stepped back and gazed at him with 20 surprise. " She paid me a visit in my bedchamber." The Marquis pulled out his snuff-box with a shrug and a smile ; taking this no doubt for an awkward piece of English pleasantry, which politeness required 25 him to be charmed with. My uncle went on gravely, however, and related the whole circumstance. The Marquis heard him through with profound attention, holding his snuff-box un- opened in his hand. When the story was finished, he 30 7. Canaille. The lower classes, the rabble. 32 TALES OF A TRA VELER tapped on the lid of his box deliberately, took a long, sonorous pinch of snuff. " Bah ! " said the Marquis, and walked towards the other end of the gallery. 5 Here the narrator paused. The company waited for some time for him to resume his narration ; but he continued silent. "Well," said the inquisitive gentleman, "and what did your uncle say then ? " 10 " Nothing," replied the other. "And what did the Marquis say farther ? " " Nothing." "And is that all?" "That is all," said the narrator, filling a glass of 15 wine. "I surmise," said the shrewd old gentleman with the waggish nose, "I surmise the ghost must have been the old housekeeper, walking her rounds to see that all was right." 20 " Bah ! " said the narrator. " My uncle was too much accustomed to strange sights not to know a ghost from a housekeeper." There was a murmur round the table, half of merri- ment, half of disappointment. I was inclined to think 25 the old gentleman had really an af terpart of his story in reserve ; but he sipped his wine and said nothing more ; and there was an odd expression about his dilapidated countenance which left me in doubt whether he were in drollery or earnest. 30 "Egad," said the knowing gentleman, with the flexible nose, " this story of your uncle puts me in THE AD VENTURE OF MY A UNT 2>Z mind of one that used to be told of an aunt of mine, by the mother's side ; though I don't know that it will bear a comparison, as the good lady was not so prone to meet with strange adventures. But any rate vou shall have it" 5 The Adventure of my Aunt My aunt was a lady of large frame, strong mind, and great resolution : she was what might be termed a very manly woman. My uncle was a thin, puny little man, very meek and acquiescent, and no match for my aunt. It was observed that he dwindled and dwindled lo gradually away, from the day of his marriage. His wife's powerful mind was too much for him ; it wore him out. My aunt, however, took all possible care of him ; had half the doctors in town to prescribe for him ; made him take all their prescriptions, and dosed him 15 with pTiysic enough to cure a whole hospital. All was in vain. My uncle grew worse and worse the more dosing and nursing he underwent, until in the end he added another to the long list of matrimonial victims who have been killed with kindness. 20 " And was it his ghost that appeared to her ? " asked the inquisitive gentleman, who had questioned the for- mer story-teller. "You shall hear," replied the narrator. — My aunt took on mightily for the death of her poor dear hus- 25 band. Perhaps she felt some compunction at having given him so much physic, and nursed him into the 3 34 TALES OF A TRA VELER grave. At any rate, she did all that a widow could do to honor his memory. She spared no expense in either the quantity or quality of her mourning weeds ; wore a miniature of him about her neck as large as a 5 little sun-dial, and had a full-length portrait of him always hanging in her bed-chamber. All the world extolled her conduct to the skies ; and it was deter- mined that a woman who behaved so well to the mem- ory of one husband deserved soon to get another. lo It was not long after this that she went to take up her residence in an old country-seat in Derbyshire, which had long been in the care of merely a steward and housekeeper. She took most of her servants with her, intending to make it her principal abode. The 15 house stood in a lonely wild part of the country, among the gray Derbyshire hills, with a murderer hanging in chains on a bleak height in full view. The servants from town were half frightened out of their wits at the idea of living in such a dismal, pagan- 20 looking place ; especially when they got together in the servants' hall in the evening, and compared notes on all the hobgoblin stories picked up in the course of the day. They were afraid to venture alone about the gloomy, black-looking chambers. My lady's maid, 25 who was troubled with nerves, declared she could never sleep alone in such a " gashly rummaging old building " ; and the footman, who was a kind-hearted young fellow, did all in his power to cheer her up. My aunt was struck with the lonely appearance of 30 the house. Before going to bed, therefore, she exam- ined well the fastnesses of the doors and windows ; locked up the plate with her own hands, and carried THE ADVENTURE OF MY AUNT 35 the keys, together with a little box of money and jew- els, to her own room ; for she was a notable woman, and always saw to all things herself. Having put the keys under her pillow, and dismissed her maid, she sat by her toilet arranging her hair ; for being, in spite of 5 her grief for my uncle, rather a buxom widow, she was somewhat particular about her person. She sat for a little while looking at her face in the glass, first on one side, then on the other, as ladies are apt to do when they would ascertain whether they have been in good to looks ; for a roistering country squire of the neighbor- hood, with whom she had flirted when a girl, had called that day to welcome her to the country. All of a sudden she thought she heard something move behind her. She looked hastily round, but there 15 was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the grimly painted portrait of her poor dear man, hanging against the wall. She gave a heavy sigh to his memory, as she was ac- customed to do whenever she spoke of him in company, 20 and then went on adjusting her night-dress, and think- ing of the squire. Her sigh was re-echoed, or answered by a long-drawn breath. She looked round again, but no one was to be seen. She ascribed these sounds to the wind oozing through the rat-holes of the old man- 25 sion, and proceeded leisurely to put her hair in papers, when, all at once, she thought she perceived one of the eyes of the portrait move. " The back of her head being towards it ! " said the story-teller with the ruined head, — " good ! " 30 "Yes, sir!" replied dryly the narrator, "her back being towards the portrait, but her eyes fixed on it§ 36 TALES OF A TRA VELER reflection in the glass." — Well, as I was saying, she perceived one of the eyes of the portrait move. So strange a circumstance, as you may well suppose, gave her a sudden shock. To assure herself of the fact, she 5 put one hand to her forehead as if rubbing it; peeped through her fingers, and moved the candle with the other hand. The light of the taper gleamed on the eye, and was reflected from it. She was sure it moved. Nay, more, it seemed to give her a wink, as she had 10 sometimes known her husband to do when living I It struck a momentary chill to her heart ; for she was a lone woman, and felt herself fearfully situated. The chill was but transient. My aunt, who was almost as resolute a personage as your uncle, sir (turn- i5ing to the old story-teller), became instantly calm and collected. She went on adjusting her dress. She even hummed an air, and did not make even a single false note. She casually overturned a dressing-box; took a candle and picked up the articles one by one from 20 the floor ; pursued a rolling pin-cushion that was mak- ing the best of its way under the bed ; then opened the door ; looked for an instant into the corridor, as if in doubt whether to go ; and then walked quietly out. She hastened downstairs, ordered the servants to arm 25 themselves with the weapons first at hand, placed her- self at their head, and returned almost immediately. Her hastily levied army presented a formidable force. The steward had a rusty blunderbuss, the coachman a loaded whip, the footman a pair of horse- 30 pistols, the cook a huge chopping-knife, and the butler a bottle in each hand. My aunt led the van with a red-hot poker, and in my opinion she was the most for- THE ADVENTURE OF MY AUNT 37 midable of the party. The waiting-maid, who dreaded to stay alone in the servants' hall, brought up the rear, smelling to a broken bottle of volatile salts, and ex- pressing her terror of the ghostesses. '' Ghosts ! " said my aunt, resolutely. " I '11 singe their whiskers for 5 them ! " They entered the chamber. All was still and un- disturbed as when she had left it. They approached the portrait of my uncle. " Pull down that picture ! ' cried my aunt. A heavy 10 groan, and a sound like the chattering of teeth, issued from the portrait. The servants shrunk back; the maid uttered a faint shriek, and clung to the footman for support. "Instantly!" added my aunt, with a stamp of the 15 foot. The picture was pulled down, and from a recess be- hind it, in which had formerly stood a clock, they hauled forth a round-shouldered, black-bearded varlet, with a knife as long as my arm, but trembling all over 20 like an aspen-leaf. " Well, and who was he ? No ghost, I suppose," said the inquisitive gentleman. " A Knight of the Post," replied the narrator, " who had been smitten with the worth of the wealthy widow ; 25 or rather a marauding Tarquin, who had stolen into her chamber to violate her purse, and rifle her strong box, when all the house should be asleep. In plain 24. Knight of the Post. A criminal who made his living by giving false evidence at trials— hence a sharper of any kind ; so called either from being found waiting at the posts which the sheriffs set up outside their doors for posting proclamations on, or else from a probable intimate acquaintance with the whipping-post and pillory. ;^S TALES OF A TRA VELER terms," continued he, " the vagabond was a loose idle fellow of the neighborhood, who had once been a serv- ant in the house, and liad been employed to assist in arranging it for the reception of its mistress.. He con- Sfessed that he had contrived this hiding-place for his nefarious purposes, and had borrowed an eye from the portrait by way of a reconnoitering-hole." " And what did they do with him ? — did they hang him ? " resumed tlie questioner. 10 " Hang him ! — how could they ? " exclaimed a beetle- browed barrister, with a hawk's nose. *^' The offense was not capital. N^o robbery, no assault had been committed. ISTo forcible entry or breaking into the premises " 15 "My aunt," said the narrator, "was a woman of spirit, and apt to take the law in her own hands. She had her own notions of cleanliness also. She ordered the fellow to be drawn through the horse-pond, to cleanse away all offenses, and then to be well rubbed 20 down with an oaken towel." " And what became of him afterwards ? " said the inquisitive gentleman. " 1 do not exactly know. I believe he was sent on a voyage of improvement to Botany Bay." 25 "And your aunt," said the inquisitive gentleman; '^I '11 warrant she took care to make her maid sleep in the room with her after that." "No, sir, she did better; she gave her hand shortly after to the roistering squire ; for she used to observe, 24. Botany Bay. A place on the east coast of Australia u§ed ^s ap Eng-. Ijsh convict settlement. THE INN AT TERRACINA 39 that it was a dismal thing for a woman to sleep alone in the country." " She was right," observed the inquisitive gentleman, nodding sagaciously ; " but I am sorry they did not hang that fellow." 5 It was agreed on all hands that the last narrator had brought his tale to the most satisfactory conclu- sion, though a country clergyman present regretted that the uncle and aunt, who figured in the different stories, had not been married together ; they certainly lo would have been well matched. The Inn at Terracina Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack! " Here comes the estafette from Naples," said mine host of the inn at Terracina ; " bring out the relay." The estafette came galloping up the road according 15 to custom, brandishing over his head a short-handled whip, with a long, knotted lash, every smack of which made a report like a pistol. He was a tight, square-set young fellow, in the usual uniform : a smart blue coat, ornamented with facings and gold 20 lace, but so short behind as to reach scarcely below his waistband, and cocked up not unlike the tail of a 14. Terracina. Pronounced ter-ra-che-na. An Italian seaport town at the end of the Pontine marshes, the marshy tract between Rome and Naples. 15. Estafette. A French name for a courier. 40 TALES OF A TEA VELER wren; a cocked hat edged with gold lace; a pair of stiff riding-boots; but, instead of the usual leathern breeches, he had a fragment of a pair of drawers, that scarcely furnished an apology for modesty to hide be- 5 hind. The estafette galloped up to the door, and jumped from his horse. "A glass of rosolio, a fresh horse, and a pair of breeches," said he, " and quickly, per Tamor cU Dio^ I 10 am behind my time, and must be off! " " San Gennaro ! " replied the host ; " why, where hast thou left thy garment ?" " Among the robbers between this and Fondi." " What, rob an estafette ! I never heard of such IS folly. What could they hope to get from thee? " *' My leather breeches ! " replied the estafette. " They were bran new, and shone like gold, and hit the fancy of the captain." "Well, these fellows grow worse and worse. To 20 meddle with an estafette ! and that merely for the sake of a pair of leather breeches ! " The robbing of the government messenger seemed to strike the host with more astonishment than any other enormity that had taken place on the road ; and, 25 indeed, it was the first time so wanton an outrage had been committed ; the robbers generally taking care not to meddle with anything belonging to the government. The estafette was by this time equipped, for he had 8. Rosolio. A liqueur or cordial. 9. Per Tamor di Dio. For the love of God. In foreign languages such expressions never have the same weight as in English. 11. San Gennaro. A light Italian oath/' By Saint Januarius." THE INN A T TERRACINA 41 not lost an instant in making his preparations while talking. The relay was ready; the rosolio tossed off; he grasped the reins and the stirrup. "Were there many robbers in the band?" said a handsome, dark young man, stepping forward from the 5 door of the inn. "As formidable a band as ever I saw," said the esta- f ette, springing into the saddle. " Are they cruel to travelers ? " said a beautiful young Venetian lady, who had been hanging on the gentle- 10 man's arm. " Cruel, signora ! " echoed the estafette, giving a glance at the lady as he put spurs to his horse. " Corpo di Bacco ! They stiletto all the men ; and, as to the women" Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack! — 15 The last words were drowned in the smacking of the whip, and away galloped the estafette along the road to the Pontine marshes. " Holy Virgin ! " ejaculated the fair Venetian, " what will become of us ! " 20 The inn of which we are speaking stands just out- side of the walls of Terracina, under a vast precipitous height of rocks, crowned with the ruins of the castle of Theodric the Goth. The situation of Terracina is remarkable. It is a little, ancient, lazy Italian town, 25 on the frontiers of the Roman territory. There seems to be an idle pause in everything about the place. The Mediterranean spreads before it — that sea without flux or reflux. The port is without a sail, excepting 13. Corpo di Bacco. "By the body of Bacchus.'* A common Italian exclamation. 24. Theodric. The King of the Ostrogoths. His army overran Italy at the end of the fifth century. 42 TALES OF A TRA VELER that once in a while a solitary felucca may be seen dis- gorging its holy cargo of baccala, or codfish, the meager provision for the quaresima, or Lent. The inhabit- ants are apparently a listless, heedless race, as people 5 of soft sunny climates are apt to be; but under this passive, indolent exterior are said to lurk dangerous qualities. They are supposed by many to be little better than the banditti of the neighboring mountains, and indeed to hold a secret correspondence with them. 10 The solitary watch-towers, erected here and there along the coast, speak of pirates and corsairs that hover about these shores ; while the low huts, as sta- tions for soldiers, which dot the distant road, as it winds up through an olive grove, intimate that in the 15 ascent there is danger for the traveler, and facility for the bandit. Indeed, it is between this town and Fondi that the road to Naples is most infested by ban- ditti. It has several windings and solitary places, where the robbers are enabled to see the traveler from 20 a distance, from the brows of the hills or impending precipices, and to lie in wait for him at lonely and diffi- cult passes. The Italian robbers are a desperate class of men, that have almost formed themselves into an order of 25 society. They wear a kind of uniform, or rather cos- tume, which openly designates their profession. This is probably done to diminish its skulking, lawless character, and to give it something of a military air in the eyes of the common people ; or, perhaps, to catch by 30 outward show and finery the fancies of the young men 1. Felucca. A light lateen-rigged vessel used on the Mediterranean. THE INN A T TERRA CINA 43 of the villages, and thus to gain recruits. Their dresses are often very rich and picturesque. They wear jack- ets and breeches of bright colors, sometimes gayly em- broidered ; their breasts are covered with medals and relics ; their hats are broad-brimmed, with conical s crowns, decorated with feathers, or variously-colored ribbons; their hair is sometimes gathered in silk nets; they wear a kind of sandal of cloth or leather, bound round the legs with thongs, and extremely flexible, to enable them to scramble with ease and celerity among 10 the mountain precipices ; a broad belt of cloth, or a sash of silk net, is stuck full of pistols and stilettos ; a carbine is slung at the back; while about them is generally thrown, in a negligent manner, a great dingy mantle, which serves as a protection in storms, or a bed in 15 their bivouacs among the mountains. They range over a great extent of wild country, along the chain of Apennines, bordering on different states ; they know all the difficult passes, the short cuts for retreat, and the impracticable forests of the mountain 20 summits, where no force dare follow them. They are secure of the good-will of the inhabitants of those regions, a poor and semi-barbarous race, whom they never disturb and often enrich. Indeed, they are con- sidered as a sort of illegitimate heroes among the 25 mountain villages, and in certain frontier towns where they dispose of their plunder. Thus countenanced, and sheltered, and secure in the fastnesses of their mount- ains, the robbers have set the weak police of the Ital- ian states at defiance. It is in vain that their names 3° and descriptions are posted on the doors of country churches, and rewards offered for them alive or dead ; 44 TALES OF A TRAVELER the villagers are either too much awed by the terrible instances of vengeance inflicted by the brigands, or have too good an understanding with them to be their betrayers. It is true they are now and then hunted 5 and shot down like beasts of prey by the gens-d'armes^ their heads put in iron cages, and stuck upon posts by the roadside, or their limbs hung up to blacken in the trees near the places where they have committed their atrocities ; but these ghastly spectacles only serve 10 to make some dreary pass of the road still more dreary, and to dismay the traveler, without deterring the bandit. At the time that the estafette made his sudden ap- pearance almost in cuerpo^ as has been mentioned, the 15 audacity of the robbers had risen to an unparalleled height. They had laid villas under contribution ; they had sent messages into country towns, to tradesmen and rich burghers, demanding supplies of money, of clothing, or even of luxuries, with menaces of venge- 2oance in case of refusal. They had their spies and emissaries in every town, village, and inn, along the principal roads, to give them notice of the movements and quality of travelers. They had plundered carriages, carried people of rank and fortune into the mount- 25ains, and obliged them to write for heavy ransoms, and had committed outrages on females who had fallen into their hands. Such was briefly the state of the robbers, or rather such was the account of the rumors prevalent con- 5. Qens=d'Arnies. Police. 14. In Cuerpo. In Spanish, the phrase in cuerpo de camisa means half dressed. THE INN AT TERRA C IN A 45 cerning them, when the scene took place at the inn of Terracina. The dark handsome young man and the Venetian lady, incidentally mentioned, had arrived early that afternoon in a private carriage drawn by mules, and attended by a single servant. They had 5 been recently married, were spending the honeymoon in traveling through these delicious countries, and were on their way to visit a rich aunt of the bride at Naples. The lady was young, and tender, and timid. The 10 stories she had heard along the road had filled her with apprehension, not more for herself than for her hus- band ; for though she had been married almost a month, she still loved him almost to idolatry. When she reached Terracina, the rumors of the road had increased 15 to an alarming magnitude; and the sight of two rob- bers' skulls, grinning in iron cages, on each side of the old gateway of the town, brought her to a pause. Her husband had tried in vain to reassure her, they had lingered all the afternoon at the inn, until it was too 20 late to think of starting that evening, and the parting words of the estafette completed her affright. " Let us return to Rome," said she, putting her arm within her husband's, and drawing towards him as if for protection. — '' Let us return to Rome, and give up 25 this visit to Naples." " And give up the visit to your aunt, too ? " said the husband. " Nay — what is my aunt in comparison with yoxn: safety ? " said she, looking up tenderly in his face. 30 There was something in her tone and manner that showed she really was thinking more of her husband's 46 TALES OF A TRAVELER safety at the moment than of her own ; and being so recently married, and a match of pure affection, too, it is very possible that she was ; at least her husband thought so. Indeed, any one who has heard the sweet 5 musical tone of a Venetian voice, and the melting ten- derness of a Venetian phrase, and felt the soft witch- ery of a Venetian eye, would not wonder at the hus- band's believing whatever they professed. He clasped the white hand that had been laid within his, put his 10 arm round her slender waist, and drawing her fondly to his bosom, " This night, at least," said he, " we will pass at Terracina." Crack ! crack ! crack ! crack ! crack ! Another ap- parition of the road attracted the attention of mine host 15 and his guests. From the direction of the Pontine marshes, a carriage, drawn by half a dozen horses, came driving at a furious rate; the postilions smacking their whips like mad, as is the case when conscious of the greatness or of the munificence of their fare. It 20 was a landaulet with a servant mounted on the dickey. The compact, highly finished, yet proudly simple con- struction of the carriage ; the quantity of neat, well- arranged trunks and conveniences ; the loads of box- coats on the dickey; the fresh, burly, bluff -looking 25 face of the master at the window ; and the ruddy, round-headed servant, in close-cropped hair, short coat, drab breeches, and long gaiters, all proclaimed at once that this was the equipage of an Englishman. " Horses to Fondi," said the Englishman, as the 30 landlord came bowing to the carriage -door. " Would not his Excellenza alight, and take some refreshments ? " I THE INN A T TERRA CINA 47 " No — he did not mean to eat until he got to Fondi." " But the horses will be some time in getting ready." " Ah ! that 's always the way ; nothing but delay in this cursed country ! " " If his Excellenza would only walk into the 5 house " " N^o, no, no ! — I tell you no ! — I want nothing but horses, and as quick as possible. John, see that the horses are got ready, and don't let us be kept here an hour or two. Tell him if we 're delayed over the time, 10 I '11 lodge a complaint with the postmaster." John touched his hat, and set oft* to obey his mas- ter's orders with the taciturn obedience of an English servant. In the meantime the Englishman got out of the car- 15 riage, and walked up and down before the inn, with his hands in his pockets, taking no notice of the crowd of idlers who were gazing at him and his equipage. He was tall, stout, and well made; dressed with neat- ness and precision ; wore a traveling cap of the color 20 of gingerbread ; and had rather an unhappy expression about the corners of his mouth : partly from not having yet made his dinner, and partly from not having been able to get on at a greater rate than seven miles an hour. Not that he had any other cause for haste 25 than an Englishman's usual hurry to get to the end of a journey; or, to use the regular phrase, " to get on." Perhaps, too, he was a little sore from having been fleeced at every stage. After some time, the servant returned from the stable 30 with a look of some perplexity. ^' Are the horses ready, John ? " 48 TALES OF A TRA VELER " No, sir — I never saw such a place. There's no get- ting anything done. I think your honor had better step into the house and get something to eat; it will be a long while before we get to Fundy." 5 " D — n the house — it 's a mere trick — I '11 not eat any- thing, just to spite them," said the Englishman, still more crusty at the prospect of being so long without his dinner. " They say your honor 's very wrong," said John, " to 10 set off at this late hour. The road 's full of highway- men." " Mere tales to get custom." " The estafette which passed us was stopped by a whole gang," said John, increasing his emphasis with 15 each additional piece of information. " I don't believe a word of it." ' " They robbed him of his breeches," said John, giving at the same time a hitch to his own waist- band. 20 " All humbug ! " Here the dark handsome young man stepped for- ward, and addressing the Englishman very politely, in broken English, invited him to partake of a repast he was about to make. 25 "Thank'ee," said the Englishman, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets, and casting a slight side-glance of suspicion at the young man, as if he thought, from his civility, he must have a design upon his purse. 30 "We shall be most happy, if you will do us the favor," said the lady, in her soft Venetian dialect. There was a sweetness in her accents that was most^ THE INN AT TERRACINA 49 persuasive. The Englishman cast a look upon her countenance ; her beauty was still more eloquent. His features instantly relaxed. He made a polite bow. " With great pleasure, Signora," said he. In short, the eagerness to " get on " was suddenly 5 slackened ; the determination to famish himself as far as Fondi, by way of punishing the landlord, was aban- doned ; John chose an apartment in the inn for his master's reception : and preparations were made to remain there until morning. 10 The carriage was unpacked of such of its contents as were indispensable for the night. There was the usual parade of trunks and writing-desks, and portfolios and dressing-boxes, and those other oppressive conveniences w^hich burden a comfortable man. The observant loi- 15 terers about the inn-door, wrapped up in great dirt- colored cloaks, with only a hawk's-eye uncovered, made many remarks to each other on this quantity of lug- gage that seemed enough for an army. The domestics of the inn talked with wonder of the splendid dressing- 20 case, with its gold and silver furniture, that was spread out on the toilet- table, and the bag of gold that chinked as it was taken out of the trunk. The strange Milor's wealth, and the treasures he carried about him, were the talk, that evening, over all Terracina. 25 The Englishman took some time to make his ablu- tions and arrange his dress for table ; and, after con- siderable labor and effort in putting himself at his ease, made his appearance, with stiff white cravat, his clothes free from the least speck of dust, and adjusted with 30 precision. He made a civil bow on entering in the unprofessing English way, which the fair Venetian, 4 50 TALES OF A TRAVELER accustomed to the complimentary salutations of the Continent, considered extremely cold. The supper, as it was termed by the Italian, or din- ner, as the Englishman called it, was now served : 5 heaven and earth, and the waters under the earth, had been moved to furnish it ; for there were birds of the air, and beasts of the field, and fish of the sea. The Eng- lishman's servant, too, had turned the kitchen topsy- turvy in his zeal to cook his master a beefsteak ; and 10 made his appearance, loaded with ketchup, and soy, and Cayenne pepper, and Ilarvey sauce, and a bottle of port wine, from that warehouse, the carriage, in which his master seemed desirous of carrying Eng- land about the world with him. Indeed the repast was 1 5 one of those Italian farragoes which require a little qualifying. The tureen of soup was a black sea, with livers, and limbs, and fragments of all kinds of birds and beasts floating like wrecks about it. A meager- winged animal, which my host called a delicate chicken, 2o had evidently died of consumption. The macaroni was smoked. The beefsteak was tough buffalo's flesh. There was what appeared to be a dish of stewed eels of which the Englishman ate with great relish ; but had nearly refunded them when told that they were vipers, 25 caught among the rocks of Terracina, and esteemed a great delicacy. Nothing, however, conquers a traveler's spleen sooner than eating, whatever may be the cookery ; and nothing brings him into good-humor with his company 30 sooner than eating together; the Englishman, there- fore, had not half finislied his repast and his bottle, before he began to think the Venetian a very tolerable THE INN A T TERRA CINA 5 1 fellow for a foreigner, and his wife almost handsome enough to be an Englishwoman. In the course of the repast, the usual topics of trav- elers were discussed, and among others, the reports of robbers, which harassed the mind of the fair Venetian. 5 The landlord and waiter dipped into the conversation with that familiarity permitted on the Continent, and served up so many bloody tales as they served up dishes, that they almost frightened away the poor lady's appetite. The Englishman, who had a national 10 antipathy to everything technically called "humbug," listened to them all with a certain screw of the mouth, expressive of incredulity. There was the well-known story of the school of Terracina, captured by the rob- bers ; and one of the scholars cruelly massacred, in order 15 to bring the parents to terms for the ransom of the rest. And another, of a gentleman of Rome, Avho re- ceived his son's ear in a letter, with information, that his son would be remitted to him in this way, by in- stalments, until he paid the required ransom. 20 The fair Venetian shuddered as she heard these tales ; and the landlord, like a true narrator of the terrible, doubled the dose when he saw how it operated. He was just proceeding to relate the mis- fortunes of a great English lord and his family, when 25 the Englishman, tired of his volubility, interrupted him, and pronounced these accounts to be mere trav- elers' tales, or the exaggerations of ignorant peasants, and designing innkeepers. The landlord was indig- nant at the doubt leveled at his stories, and the innu- endo leveled at his cloth; he cited, in corroboratioUj half a dozen tales still more terrible. 52 TALES OF A TRAVELER "I don't believe a word of them," said the English- man. " But the robbers have been tried and executed ! " " All a farce ! " 5 "But their heads are stuck up along the road ! " " Old skulls accumulated during a century." The landlord muttered to himself as he went out at the door, " San Gennaro ! quanto sono singolari questi iDglesi!" lo A fresh hubbub outside of the inn announced the arrival of more travelers ; and, from the variety of voices, or rather of clamors, the clattering of hoofs, the rattling of wheels, and the general uproar both within and without, the arrival seemed to be nu- 15 merous. It was, in fact, the procaccio and its convoy : a kind of caravan which sets out on certain days for the transportation of merchandise, with an escort of soldiery to protect it from the robbers. Travelers avail 20 themselves of its protection, and a long file of car- riages generally accompany it. A considerable time elapsed before either landlord or waiter returned ; being hurried hither and thither by that tempest of noise and bustle, which takes 25 place in an Italian inn on the arrival of any con- siderable accession of custom. When mine host reap- peared, there was a smile of triumph on his counte- nance. " Perhaps," said he, as he cleared the table, 30 "perhaps the signor has not heard of what has happened ? " 8, San Gennaro, etc. How strange these English are 1 THE INN AT TERR AC IN A S3 " What ? " said the Englishman, dryly. " Why, the procaccio has brought accounts of fresh exploits of the robbers." "Pish!" " There's more news of the English Milor and his 5 family," said the host, exultingly. " An English lord ? What English lord ? " "Milor Popkin." " Lord Popkins ? I never heard of such a title ! " " Oh ! sicuro a great nobleman, who passed through lo here lately with mi ladi and her daughters. A magni- fico, one of the grand counselors of London, an almanno ! " "Almanno — almanno? — tut — he means alderman." , "Sicuro — Aldermanno Popkin, and the Principessa iS Popkin, and the Signorine Popkin ? " said mine host, triumphantly. He now put himself into an attitude, and would have launched into a full detail, had he not been thwarted by the Englishman, who seemed determined '^^ neither to credit nor indulge him in his stories, but dryly motioned for him to clear away the table. An Italian tongue, however, is not easily checked ; that of mine host continued to wag with increasing volubility, as he conveyed the relics of the repast out 25 of the room ; and the last that could be distinguished of his voice, as it died away along the corridor, was the iteration of the favorite word, Popkin — Popkin — Popkin — pop — pop — pop. The arrival of the procaccio had, indeed, filled the 30 house with stories, as it had with guests. The Englishman and his companions walked after supper 54 TALES OF A TRAVELER up and down the large hall, or common room of the inn, which ran through the center of the building. It was spacious and somewhat dirty, with tables placed in various parts, at which groups of travelers were 5 seated; while others strolled about, waiting, in fam- ished impatience, for tlieir evening's meal. It was a heterogeneous assemblage of people of all ranks and countries, who had arrived in all kinds of vehicles. Though distinct knots of travelers, yet the 10 traveling together, under one common escort, had jumbled them into a certain degree of companionship on the road ; besides, on the Continent travelers are always familiar, and nothing is more motley than the groups which gather casually together in sociable con- 15 versation in the public rooms of inns. The formidable number, and formidable guard of the procaccio had prevented any molestation from banditti ; but every party of travelers had its tale of wonder, and one carriage vied w4th another in its 20 budget of assertions and surmises. Fierce, whiskered faces had been seen peering over the rocks ; carbines and stilettos gleaming from among the bushes ; suspi- cious-looking fellows, with flapped hats, and scowling eyes, had occasionally reconnoitered a straggling 25 carriage, but had disappeared on seeing the guard. The fair Venetian listened to all these stories with that avidity with which we always pamper any feel- ing of alarm ; even the Englishman began to feel in- terested in the common topic, desirous of getting more 30 correct information than mere flying reports. Con- quering, therefore, that shyness which is prone to keep an Englishman solitary in crowds, he approached THE INN A T TERRACINA 55 one of the talking groups, the oracle of which was a tall, thin Italian, with long aquiline nose, a high fore- head, and lively prominent eye, beaming from under a green velvet traveling-cap, with gold tassel. He was of Rome, a surgeon by profession, a poet by s choice, and something of an improvisators In the present instance, however, he was talking in plain prose, but holding forth with the fluency of one who talks well, and likes to exert his talent. A ques- tion or two from the Englishman drew copious replies; 10 for an Englishman sociable among strangers is regarded as a phenomenon on the Continent, and always treated with attention for the rarity's sake. The improvisa- tore gave much the same account of the banditti that I have already furnished. 15 "But why does not the police exert itself, and root them out?" demanded the Englishman. ''Because the police is too weak, and the banditti are too strong," replied the other. " To root them out would be a more difficult task than you imagine. 20 They are connected and almost identified with the mountain peasantry and the people of the villages. The numerous bands have an understanding with each other, and with the country round. A gendarme can- not stir without their being aware of it. They have 25 their scouts everywhere, who lurk about towns, vil- lages, and inns, mingle in every crowd, and pervade every place of resort. I should not be surprised if some one should be supervising us at this moment." The fair Venetian- looked round fearfully, and turned 30- pale. 6. Improvisatore. One who can recite impromptu verses. 56 TALES OF A TRA VELER Here the improvisatore was interrupted by a lively Neapolitan lawyer. " By the way," said he, " I recollect a little advent- ure of a learned doctor, a friend of mine, which hap- 5 pened in this very neighborhood ; not far from the ruins of Theodric's Castle, which are on the top of those great rocky heights above the town." A wish was, of course, expressed to hear the advent- ure of the doctor, by all excepting the improvisatore^ 10 who, being fond of talking and of hearing himself talk, and accustomed, moreover, to harangue without inter- ruption, looked rather annoyed at being checked when in full career. The Neapolitan, however, took no notice of his chagrin, but related the following anec- 15 dote. Adventure of the Little Antiquary My friend, the Doctor, was a thorough antiquary ; a little rusty, musty, old fellow, always groping among ruins. He relished a building as you Englishmen relish a cheese, — the more mouldy and crumbling it 20 was, the more it suited his taste. A shell of an old nameless temple, or the cracked walls of a broken- down amphitheater, would throw him into raptures ; and he took more delight in these crusts and cheese- parings of antiquity, than in the best-conditioned 25 modern palaces. ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY 57 He was a curious collector of coins also, and had just gained an accession of wealth that almost turned his brain. He had picked up, for instance, several Roman Consulars, half a Roman As, two Funics, which had doubtless belonged to the soldiers of Hannibal, having 5 been found on the very spot where they had encamped among the Apennines. He had, moreover, one Sam- nite, struck after the Social War, and a Philistis, a queen that never existed ; but above all, he valued himself upon a coin, indescribable to any but the 10 initiated in these matters, bearing a cross on one side and a pegasus on the other, and which, by some anti- quarian logic, the little man adduced as an historical document, illustrating the progress of Christianity. All these precious coins he carried about him in a 15 leathern purse, buried deep in a pocket of his little black breeches. The last maggot he had taken into his brain was to hunt after the ancient cities of the Pelasgi, which are said to exist to this day among the mountains of the 20 Abruzzi ; but about which a singular degree of ob- scurity prevails.^ He had made many discoveries con- 4. Consulars. Coins in use when Rome was governed by the consuls. 4. Roman As. A copper coin, originally a pound in weight, but gradu- ally reduced to half an ounce in weight. 4. Funics. Coins struck at the time of the Roman wars with Carthage. 7. Samnite. Samnium, in the central part of Italy, was an opponent of Rome in the social war of the first century B.C. See any Roman history. 8. Philistis. Traditional queen of Syracuse. 19. Pelasgi. The prehistoric inhabitants of Italy. * Among the many fond speculations of antiquaries is that of the exist- ence of traces of the ancient Pelasgian cities in the Apennines ; and man^y a wistful eye is cast by the traveler, versed in antiquarian lore, at the richly-wooded mountains of the Abruzzi, as a forbidden fairyland of re- search. These spots, so beautiful, yet so inaccessible, from the rudeness of their inhabitants and the hordes of banditti which infest them, are a region of fable to the learned. Sometimes a wealthy virtuoso, whose purse and whose consequence could command a military escort, has pene- 4^ 58 TALES OF A TEA VELER cerning them, and had recorded a great many valuable notes and memorandums on the subject, in a voluminous book, which he always carried about with him ; either for the purpose of frequent reference, or through fear i^ 5 lest the precious document should fall into the hands of brother antiquaries. He had, therefore, a large pocket in the skirt of his coat, where he bore about this inestimable tome, banging against his rear as he walked. lo Thus heavily laden with the spoils of antiquity, the good little man, during a sojourn at Terracina, mounted one day the rocky cliffs which overhang the town, to visit the castle of Theodric. He was groping about the ruins towards the hour of sunset, buried in his re- 15 flections, his wits no doubt wool-gathering among the Goths and Romans, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, and beheld five or six young fellows, of trated to some individual point among the mountains ; and sometimes a wandering artist or student, under protection of poverty or insignificance, has brought away some vague account, only calculated to give a keener edge to curiosity and conjecture. By those who maintain the existence of the Pelasgian cities, it is affirmed" that the formation of the different kingdoms in the Peloponnesus gradu- . ally caused the expulsion thence of the Pelasgi ; but that their great migra- ■ tion may be dated from the finishing the wall around Acropolis and that* at this period they came to Italy. To these, in the spirit of theory, they I would ascribe the introduction of the elegant arts into the country. It isj evident, however, that, as barbarians flying before the first dawn of civiliza-* tion, they could bring little with them superior to the inventions of the aborigines, and nothing that would have survived to the antiquarian through such a lapse of ages. It would appear more probable, that these cities, improperly termed Pelasgian, were coeval with many that hav.e been discovered. The romantic Aricia, built by Hippolytus before the siege of Troy, and the poetic Tibur, Osculate, and Proenes, built by Telegonus after the dispersion of the Greeks ;— these, lying contiguous to inhabited and cultivated spots, have been discovered. There are others, too, on the ruins of which the latter and more civilized Grecian colonists have ingrafted themselves, and which have become known by their merits or their medals. But that there are many still undiscovered, imbedded in the Abruzzi, it is the delight of the antiquarians to fancy. Strange that such a virgin soil for research, such an unknown realm of knowl- edge, should at this day remain in the very center of hackneyed Italy! [Irving's Note. See Suggestions to Teachers and Students^] ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY 59 rough, saucy demeanor, clad in a singular manner, half peasant, half huntsman, with carbines in their hands. Their whole appearance and carriage left him no doubt into what company he had fallen. The Doctor was a feeble little man, poor in look, and 5 poorer in purse. He had but little gold or silver to be robbed of ; but then he had his curious ancient coin in his breeches pocket. He had, moreover, certain other valuables, such as an old silver watch, thick as a turnip, with figures on it large enough for a clock ; 10 and a set of seals at the end of a steel chain, dangling half way down to his knees. All these were of pre- cious esteem, being family relics. He had also a seal ring, a veritable antique intaglio, that covered half his knuckles. It was a Venus, which the old man almost 15 worshiped with the zeal of a voluptuary. But what he most valued was his inestimable collection of hints relative to the Pelasgian cities, which he would gladly have given all the money in his pocket to have had safe at the bottom of his trunk at Terracina. 20 However, he plucked up a stout heart, at least as otout a heart as he could, seeing that he was but a ounny little man at the best of times. So he wished !:he hunters a huon giorno. They returned his salu- ation, givhig the old gentleman a sociable slap on the 25 back that made his heart leap into his throat. They fell into conversation, and walked for some time together among the heights, the Doctor wishing them all the while at the bottom of the crater of Vesuvius. At length they came to a small osteria^o 24. Buon Giorno. Good-day. 30. Osteria. Hostelry. 6o TALES OF A TRA VELER on the mountain, where they proposed to enter and have a cup of wine together ; the Doctor consented, though he would as soon have been invited to drink hemlock. 5 One of the gang remained sentinel at the door; the others swaggered into the house, stood, their guns in the corner of the room, and each drawing a pistol or stiletto out of his belt, laid it upon the table. They now drew benches round the board, called lustily for 10 wine, and, hailing the Doctor as though he had been a boon companion of long standing, insisted upon his sitting down and making merry. The worthy man complied with forced grimace, but with fear and trembling ; sitting uneasily on the ^5 edge of his chair; eying ruefully the black-muzzled, pistols, and cold, naked stilettos ; and supping down heartburn with every drop of liquor. His new com- rades, however, pushed the bottle bravely, and plied him vigorously. They sang, they laughed; told excel- 20 lent stories of their robberies and combats, mingled with many ruffian jokes, and the little Doctor was fain to laugh at all their cut-throat pleasantries, though his heart was dying away at the very bottom of his bosom. 25 By their own account, they were young men from the villages, who had recently taken up this line of life out of the wild caprice of youth. They talked of their murderous exploits as a sportsman talks of his amuse- ments : to shoot down a traveler seemed of little more 30 consequence to them than to shoot a hare. They spoke with rapture of the glorious roving life they led, free as birds; here to-day, gone to-morrow; ranging the ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY 6 1 forests, climbing the rocks, scouring the valleys ; the world their own wherever they could lay hold of it; full purses — merry companions — pretty women. The little antiquary got fuddled with their talk and their wine, for they did not spare bumpers. He half forgot 5 his fears, his seal-ring, and his family watch ; even the treatise on the Pelasgian cities, which was warm- ing under him, for a time faded from his memory in the glowing picture that they drew. He declares that he no longer wonders at the prevalence of this robber 10 mania among the mountains ; for he felt at the time, that, had he been a young man, and a strong man, and had there been no danger of the galleys in the background, he should have been half tempted himself to turn bandit. 15 At length the hour of separating arrived. The Doctor was suddenly called to himself and his fears by seeing the robbers resume their weapons. He now quaked for his valuables, and above all, for his anti- quarian treatise. He endeavored, however, to look cool 20 and unconcerned; and drew forth from his deep pocket a long, lank, leather purse, far gone in con- sumption, at the bottom of which a few coin chinked with the trembling of his hand. The chief of the party observed his movement, and 25 laying his hand upon the antiquary's shoulder, "Har- kee ! Signor Dottore ! " said he, " we have drunk together as friends and comrades ; let us part as such. We understand you. We know who and what you are, for we know who everybody is that sleeps at Terra- 30 cina, or that puts foot upon the road. You are a rich 27. Signor Dottore. Sir Doctor. 62 TALES OF A TRA VELER man, but you carry all your wealth in your head : we cannot get at it, and we should not know what to do with it if we could. I see you are uneasy about your ring; but don't worry yourself, it is not worth taking; 5 you think it an antique, but it's a counterfeit — a mere sham." Here the ire of the antiquary rose ; the Doctor for- got himself in his zeal for the character of his ring. Heaven and earth I his Venus a sham ! Had they pro- lonounced the wife of his bosom ''no better than she should be," he could not have been more indignant. He fired up in vindication of his intaglio. " Nay, nay," continued the robber, " we have no time to dispute about it; value it as you please. Come, 15 you're a brave little old signor — one more cup of wine, and we'll pay the reckoning. No compliment — you shall not pay a grain — you are our guest — I insist upon it. So — now make the best of your way back to Ter- racina; it's growing late. Buono viaggio f And 20 harkee ! take care how you wander among these mount- ains, — you may not always fall into such good com- pany." They shouldered their guns ; sprang gayly up the rocks; and the little Doctor hobbled back to Terracina, 25 rejoicing that the robbers had left his watch, his coins, and his treatise, unmolested ; but still indignant that they should have pronounced his Venus an impostor. The improvisatore had shown many symptoms of impatience during this recital. He saw his theme in 19. Buono viaggio. A pleasant journey to you. ADVENTURE OE THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY 63 danger of being taken out of his hands, which to an able talker is always a grievance, but to an improvisa- tore is an absolute calamity : and then for it to be taken away by a Neapolitan was still more vexatious ; the in- habitants of the different Italian states having an im- 5 placable jealousy of each other in all things, great and small. He took advantage of the first pause of the Neapolitan to catch hold again of the thread of the conversation. " As I observed before," said he, " the prowlings of 10 the banditti are so extensive ; they are so much in league with one another, and so interwoven with various ranks of society " "For that matter," said the Neapolitan, " I have heard that your government has had some understand- 15 ing with those gentry ; or, at least, has winked at their misdeeds." " My government ? " said the Roman, impatiently. "Ay, they say that Cardinal Gonsalvi " " Hush ! " said the Roman, holding up his finger, and 20 rolling his large eyes about the room. " Nay, I only repeat what I heard commonly rumored in Rome," replied the Neapolitan, sturdily. " It was openly said, that the Cardinal had been up to the mountains and had an interview with some of the 25 chiefs. And I have been told, moreover, that while honest people have been kicking their heels in the Cardinal's antechamber, waiting by the hour for ad- mittance, one of those stiletto-looking fellows has elbowed his way through the crowd, and entered with- ^o out ceremony into the Cardinal's presence." 19. Cardinal Gonsalvi. A papal official in the time of Pius VII. 64 TALES OF A TRA VELER " I know," observed the irnpromsatore^ " that there have been such reports, and it is not impossible that government may have made use of these men at par- ticular periods : such as at the time of your h\te abor- Stive revolution, when your carbonari were so busy with their machinations all over the country. The in- formation which such men could collect, who were familiar, not merely with recesses and secret places of the mountains, but also with the dark and dangerous 10 recesses of society ; who knew every suspicious char- acter, and all his movements and all his lurkings ; in a word, who knew all that was plotting in a world of mischief ; — the utility of such men as instruments in the hands of government was too obvious to be over- 15 looked; and Cardinal Gonsalvi, as a politic statesman, may, perhaps, have made use of them. Besides, he knew that, with all their atrocities, the robbers were always respectful towards the church, and devout in their religion." 20 " Religion! religion! " echoed the Englishman. " Yes, religion," repeated the Roman. " They have each their patron saint. They will cross themselves and say their prayers, whenever, in their mountain haunts, they hear the matin or the Ave Maria bells 25 sounding from the valleys ; and will often descend from their retreats, and run imminent risks to visit some favorite shrine. I recollect an instance in point. " I was one evening in the village of Frascati, which stands on the beautiful brow of a hill rising from the 5. Abortive Revolution. In 1820. An uprising against Ferdinand I, 5. Curboni. A political society. ADVENTURE OF THE LITTLE ANTIQUARY 65 Campagna, just below the Abruzzi mountains. The people, as is usual in fine evenings in our Italian towns and villages, were recreating themselves in the open air, and chatting in groups in the public square. While I was conversing with a knot of friends, I noticed a 5 tall fellow, wrapped in a great mantle, passing across the square, but skulking along in the dusk, as if anxious to avoid observation. The people drew back as he passed. It was whispered to me that he was a notorious bandit." 10 "But why was he not immediately seized?" said the Englishman. " Because it was nobody's business ; because nobody wished to incur the vengeance of his comrades ; be- cause there were not sufiicient gendarmes nenv to in-iS sure security against the number of desperadoes he might have at hand; because the gendarmes might not have received particular instructions with respect to him, and might not feel disposed to engage in a hazard- ous conflict without compulsion. In short, I might 20 give you a thousand reasons rising out of the state of our government and manners, not one of which after all might appear satisfactory." The Englishman shrugged his shoulders with an air of contempt. 25 " I have been told," added the Roman, rather quickly, " that even in your metropolis of London, notorious thieves, well known to the police as such, walk the streets at noonday in search of their prey, and are not molested unless caught in the very act of robbery." 30 14. The Campagna. The low-lying district about Rome, 5 66 TALES OF A TRA VELER The Englishman gave another shrug, but with a dif- ferent expression. " Well, sir, I fixed my eye on this daring wolf, thus prowling through the fold, and saw him enter a church. 5 1 was curious to witness his devotion. You know our spacious magnificent churches. The one in which he entered was vast, and shrouded in the dusk of evening. At the extremity of the long aisles a couple of tapers feebly glimmered on the grand altar. In one of the loside chapels was a votive candle placed before the image of a saint. Before this image the robber had prostrated himself. His mantle partly falling off from his shoulders as he knelt, revealed a form of Herculean strength ; a stiletto and pistol glittered in his belt ; 15 and the light, falling on his countenance, showed feat- ures not unhandsome, but strongly and fiercely char- acterized. As he prayed, he became vehemently agi- tated ; his lips quivered ; sighs and murmurs, almost groans, burst from him ; he beat his breast with vio- 2olence; then clasped his hands and wrung them convul- sively, as he extended them towards the image. Never had I seen such a terrific picture of remorse. I felt fearful of being discovered watching him, and with- drew. Shortly afterwards, I saw him issue from the 25 church wrapped in his mantle. He re-crossed the square, and no doubt returned to the mountains with a disburdened conscience, ready to incur a fresh arrear of crime." Having secured the attention and awakened the 30 curiosity of the by-standers, he paused for a moment, rolled up his large eyes as improvisatori are apt to do when they would recollect an impromptu, and then re- THE BELA TED TRA VELERS 67 lated with great dramatic effect the following story, which had, doubtless, been well prepared and digested beforehand. The Belated Travelers It was late one evening that a carriage, drawn by- mules, slowly toiled its way up one of the passes of 5 the Apennines. It was through one of the wildest de- files, where a hamlet occurred only at distant inter- vals, perched on the summit of some rocky height, or the white towers of a convent peeped out from among the thick mountain foliage. The carriage was of an- 10 cient and ponderous construction. Its faded embellish- ments spoke of former splendor, but its crazy springs and axle-trees creaked out the tale of present decline. Within was seated a tall, thin old gentleman, in a kind of military traveling-dress, and a foraging-cap trimmed 15 with fur, though the gray locks which stole from under it hinted that his fighting days were over. Be- side him was a pale, beautiful girl of eighteen, dressed in something of a northern or Polish costume. One servant was seated in front, a rusty, crusty looking 20 fellow, with a scar across his face, an orange-tawny schnurhart or pair of mustaches, bristling from under his nose, and altogether the air of an old soldier. It was, in fact, the equipage of a Polish nobleman ; a wreck of one of those princely families once of al- 25 68 TALES OF A TRAVELER most oriental magnificence, but broken down and im- poverished by the disasters of Poland. The Count, like many other generous spirits, had been found guilty of the crime of patriotism, and was, in a man- Sner, an exile from his country. He had resided for some time in the first cities of Italy, for the education of his daughter, in whom all his cares and pleasures were now centered. He had taken her into society, where her beauty and her accomplishments gained her 10 many admirers ; and had she not been the daughter of a poor broken-down Polish nobleman, it is more than probable. many would have contended for her hand. Suddenly, however, her health became delicate and drooping ; her gayety fled with the roses of her cheek, 15 and she sank into silence and debility. The old Count saw the change with the solicitude of a parent. " We must try a change of air and scene," said he ; and in a few days the old family carriage was rumbling among the Apennines. 20 Their only attendant was the veteran Caspar, who had been born in the family, and grown rusty in its service. He had followed his master in all his fort- unes; had fought by his side; had stood over him when fallen in battle; and had received, in his de- 25fense, the saber-cut which added such grimness to his countenance. He was now his valet, his steward, his butler, his factotum. The only being that rivaled his master in his affections was his youthful mistress. She had grown up under his eye, he had led her by the 30 hand when she was a child, and he now looked upon her with the fondness of a parent. Nay, he even took the freedom of a parent in giving his blunt opinion on THE BELA TED TRA VELERS 69 all matters which he thought were for her good ; and felt a parent's vanity at seeing her gazed at and ad- mired. The evening was thickening; they had been for some time passing through narrow gorges of the mountains, 5 along the edges of a tumbling stream. The scenery was lonely and savage. The rocks often beetled over the road, with flocks of white goats browsing on their brinks, and gazing down upon the travelers. They had between two or three leagues yet to go before they 10 could reach any village ; yet the muleteer, Pietro, a tip- pling old fellow, who had refreshed himself at the last halting-place with a more than ordinary quantity of wine, sat singing and talking alternately to his mules, and suffering them to lag on at a snail's pace, in spite 15 of the frequent entreaties of the Count and maledic- tions of Caspar. The clouds began to roll in heavy masses along the mountains, shrouding their summits from view. The air was damp and chilly. The count's solicitude on his 20 daughter's account overcame his usual patience. He leaned from the carriage, and called to old Pietro in an angry tone. "Forward!" said he. "It will be midnight before we arrive at our inn." 25 " Yonder it is, Signor," said the muleteer. "Where?" demanded the Count. "Yonder," said Pietro, pointing to a desolate pile about a quarter of a league distant. " That the place ? — why, it looks more like a ruin 30 than an inn. I thought we Avere to put up for the night at a comfortable village." 70 TALES OF A TRAVELER Here Pietro uttered a string of piteous exclamations and ejaculations, such as are ever at the tip of the tongue of a delinquent muleteer. " Such roads ! and such mountains ! and then his poor animals were way- 5 worn, and leg- weary ; they would fall lame ; they would never be able to reach the village. And then what could his Excellenza wish for better than the inn ; a perfect castello — a palazzo — and such people ! — and such a larder ! — and such beds ! — His Excellenza might ^o fare as sumptuously, and sleep as soundly there as a prince ! " The Count was easily persuaded, for he was anxious to get his daughter out of the night air ; so in a little while the old carriage rattled and jingled into the 15 great gateway of the inn. The building did certainly in some measure answer to the muleteer's description. It was large enough for either castle or palace ; built in a strong, but simple and almost rude style ; with a great quantity of waste room. 20 It had in fact been, in former times, a hunting-seat of one of the Italian princes. There was space enough within its walls and out-buildings to have accommo- dated a little army. A scanty household seemed now to people this dreary mansion. The faces that pre- 25sented themselves on the arrival of the travelers were begrimed with dirt, and scowling in their expression. They all knew old Pietro, however, and gave him a welcome as he entered, singing and talking, and almost whooping, into the gateway. 30 The hostess of the inn waited, herself, on the Count and his daughter, to show them the apartments. They WQre conducted through a long gloomy corridor, and THE BELATED TRAVELERS 71 then through a suite of chambers opening into each other, with lofty ceilings, and great beams extending across them. Everything, however, had a wretched, squalid look. The walls were damp and bare, except- ing that here and there hung some great painting, large 5 enough for a chapel, and blackened out of all distinc- tion. They chose two bedrooms, one within another ; the inner one for the daughter. The bedsteads were mas- sive and misshapen ; but on examining the beds so 10 vaunted by old Pietro, they found them stuffed with fibers of hemp knotted in great lumps. The Count shrugged his shoulders, but there was no choice left. The chilliness of the apartments crept to their bones ; and they were glad to return to a common chamber or 15 kind of hall, where was a fire burning in a huge cavern, miscalled a chimney. A quantity of green wood, just thrown on, puffed out volumes of smoke. The room corresponded to the rest of the mansion. The floor was paved and dirty. A great oaken table stood in the 20 center, immovable from its size and weight. The only thing that contradicted this prevalent air of indigence was the dress of the hostess. She was a slattern of course; yet her garments, though dirty and negligent, were of costly materials. She wore several rings of 25 great value on her fingers, and jewels in her ears, and round her neck was a string of large pearls, to which was attached a sparkling crucifix. She had the re- mains of beauty, yet there was something in the ex- pression of her countenance that inspired the young 30 lady with singular aversion. She was officious and obsequious in her attentions, and both the Count and 72 TALES OF A TRAVELER his daughter felt relieved, when she consigned them to the care of a dark, sullen-looking servant-maid, and went oft' to superintend the supper. Caspar was indignant at the muleteer for having, 5 eibhtx through negligence or design, subjected his mas- ter and mistress to such quarters ; and vowed by his mustaches to have revenge on the old varlet the mo- ment they were safe out from among the mountains. He kept up a continual quarrel with the sulky servant- 10 maid, which only served to increase the sinister ex- pression with which she regarded the travelers, from under her strong dark eyebrows. As to the Count, he was a good-humored passive traveler. Perhaps real misfortunes had subdued his 15 spirit, and rendered him tolerant of many of those petty evils which make prosperous men miserable. He drew a large broken arm-chair to the fireside for his daughter, and another for himself, and seizing an enormous pair of tongs, endeavored to rearrange the wood so as to 20 produce a blaze. His efforts, however, were only repaid by thicker puff's of smoke, which almost overcame the good gentleman's patience. He would draw back, cast a look upon his delicate daughter, then upon the cheer- less, squalid apartment, and, shrugging his shoulders, 25 would give a fresh stir to the fire. Of all the miseries of a comfortless inn, however? there is none greater than sulky attendance ; the good Count for some time bore the smoke in silence, rather than address himself to the scowling servant-maid. At 30 length he was compelled to beg for drier firewood. The woman retired muttering. On re-entering the room hastily, with an armful of fagots, her foot THE BELA TED TRA VELERS 73 slipped ; she fell, and striking her head against the corner of a chair, cut her temple severely. The blow stunned her for a time, and the wound bled profusely. When she recovered, she found the Count's daughter administering to her wound, and 5 binding it up with her own handkerchief. It was such an attention as any woman of ordinary feeling would have yielded; but perhaps there was something in the appearance of the lovely being who bent over her, or in the tones of her voice, that touched the 10 heart of the woman, unused to being administered to by such hands. Certain it is, she was strongly affected. She caught the delicate hand of the Polo- naise, and pressed it fervently to her lips. *'May San Francesco watch over you, Signora!"i5 exclaimed she. A new arrival broke the stillness of the inn; it was a Spanish princess with a numerous retinue. The court-yard was in an uproar ; the house in a bustle. The landlady hurried to attend such distinguished 20 guests ; and the poor Count and his daughter, and their supper, were for a moment forgotten. The veteran Caspar muttered Polish maledictions enough to agonize an Italian ear; but it was impossible to con- vince the hostess of the superiority of his old master 25 and young mistress to the whole nobility of Spain. The noise of the arrival had attracted the daughter to the window just as the new-comers had alighted. A young cavalier sprang out of the carriage and handed out the Princess. The latter was a little 30 shriveled old lady, with a face of parchment and 1 3. Polonaise. Polish lady. 74 TALES OF A TRAVELER sparkling black eye ; she was richly and gayly dressed, and walked with the assistance of a golden-headed cane as high as herself. The young man was tall and elegantly formed. The Count's daughter shrank back 5 at the sight of him, though the deep frame of the win- dow screened her from observation. She gave a heavy sigh as she closed the casement. What that ^gh meant I cannot say. Perhaps it was at the contrast between the splendid equipage of the Princess, and 10 the crazy, rheumatic-looking old vehicle of her father, which stood hard by. Whatever might be the reason, the young lady closed the casement with a sigh. She returned to her chair, — a slight shivering passed over her delicate frame: she leaned her elbow on the arm 15 of the chair, rested her pale cheek in the palm of her hand, and looked mournfully into the fire. The Count thought she appeared paler than usual. " Does anything ail thee, my child ? " said he. " Nothing, dear father ! " replied she, laying her 20 hand within his, and looking up smiling in his face; but as she said so, a treacherous tear rose suddenly to her eye, and she turned away her head. "The air of the window has chilled thee," said the Count, fondly, " but a good night's rest will make all 25 well again." The supper-table was at length laid, and the supper about to be served when the hostess appeared, with her usual obsequiousness, apologizing for showing in the new-comers ; but the night air was cold, and there 30 was no other chamber in the inn with a fire in it. She had scarcely made the apology when the Princess entered, leaning on the arm of the elegant young man, THE BELATED TRAVELERS 75 The Count immediately recognized her for a lady whom he had met frequently in society, both at Rome and Naples ; and to whose conversaziones, in fact, he had been constantly invited. The cavalier, too, was her nephew and heir, who had been greatly admired in 5 the gay circles, both for his merits and prospects, and who had once been on a visit at the same time with nis daughter and himself at the villa of a nobleman near Naples. Report had recently affianced him to a rich Spanish heiress. 10 The meeting was agreeable to both the Count and the Princess. The former was a gentleman of the old school, courteous in the extreme ; the Princess had been a belle in her youth, and a woman of fashion all her life, and liked to be attended to. 15 The young man approached the daughter, and began something of a complimentary observation; but his manner was embarrassed, and his compliment ended in an indistinct murmur; while the daughter bowed without looking up, moved her lips without articulat- 20 ing a word, and sank again into her chair, where she sat gazing into the fire, with a thousand varying expressions passing over her countenance. This singular greeting of the young people was not perceived by the old ones, who were occupied at the 25 time with their own courteous salutations. It was arranged that they should sup together ; and as the Princess traveled with her own cook, a very tolerable supper soon smoked upon the board. This, too, was assisted by choice wines, and liquors, and delicate 30 3. Conversaziones. Conversational parties. 76 TALES OF A TRAVELER 1 confitures brought from one of her carriages ; for she was a veteran epicure, and curious in her rehsh for the good things of this world. She was, in fact, a viva- cious little old lady, who mingled the woman of dis- 5 sipation with the devotee. She was actually on her way to Loretto, to expiate a long life of gallantries and peccadilloes by a rich offering at the holy shrine. She was, to be sure, rather a luxurious penitent, and a contrast to the primitive pilgrims, with scrip and staflf, loand cockle-shell; but then it would be unreasonable to expect such self-denial from people of fashion ; and there was not a doubt of the ample efficacy of the rich crucifixes, and golden vessels, and jeweled ornaments, which she was bearing to the treasury of the blessed 15 Virgin. The Princess and the Count chatted much during supper about the scenes and society in which they had mingled, and did not notice that they had all the con- versation to themselves : the young people were silent 20 and constrained. The daughter ate nothing in spite of the politeness of the Princess, who continually pressed her to taste of one or other of the delicacies. The Count shook his head. " She is not well this evening," said he. "I thought 25 she would have fainted just now as she was looking out of the window at your carriage on its arrival." A crimson glow flushed to the very temples of the 1. Confitures. Sweetmeats ; cf. confits. 6. Loretto. A celebrated shrine, much sought by pilgrims. It is situated in the province of Ancona. 10. Cockle-shell. Mediaeval pilgrims carried a cockle-shell attached to the hat as a badge. As the chief place of pilgrimage was the Holy Land, where the shells are common, it served as a kind of credential. i THE BELATED TRAVELERS 77 daughter ; but she leaned over her plate, and her tresses cast a shade over her countenance. When supper was over, they drew their chairs about the great fire-place. The flame and smoke had sub- sided, and a heap of glowing embers diffused a grate- 5 ful warmth. A guitar, which had been brought from the Count's carriage, leaned against the wall; the Princess perceived it. — " Can we not have a little music before parting for the night?" demanded she. The Count was proud of his daughter's accomplish- to ment, and joined in the request. The young man made an effort of politeness, and taking up the guitar, pre- sented it, though in an embarrassed manner, to the fair musician. She would have declined it, but was too much confused to do so, indeed, she was so nervous 15 and agitated, that she dared not trust her voice, to make an excuse. She touched the instrument with a faltering hand, and, after preluding a little, accom- panied herself in several Polish airs. Her father's eyes glistened as he sat gazing on her. Even the crusty 20 Caspar lingered in the room, partly through a fond- ness for the music of his native country, but chiefly through his pride in the musician. Indeed the melody of the voice, and the delicacy of the touch, were enough to have charmed more fastidious ears. The little Prin- 25 cess nodded her head and tapped her hand to the music, though exceedingly out of time ; while the nephew sat buried in profound contemplation of a black picture on the opposite wall. "And now," said the Count, patting her cheek fond- 30 ly, " one more favor. Let the Princess hear that little Spanish air you were so fond of. You can't think," 78 TALES OF A TRA VELER added he, "what a proficiency she has made in your language; though she has been a sad girl, and neglected it of late.'' The color flushed the pale cheek of the daughter. 5 She hesitated, murmured something; but with sudden effort, collected herself, struck the guitar boldly, and began. It was a Spanish romance, with somthing of love and melancholy in it. She gave the first stanza with great expression, for the tremulous, melting tones 10 of her voice went to the heart; but her articulation failed, her lips quivered, the song died away, and she burst into tears. The Count folded her tenderly in his arms. " Thou art not well, my child," said he, " and I am tasking 15 thee cruelly. Retire to thy chamber, and God bless thee ! " She bowed to the company without raising her eyes, and glided out of the room. The Count shook his head as the door closed. " Some- thing is the matter with that child," said he, " which 20 1 cannot divine. She has lost all health and spirits lately. She was always a tender flower, and I had much pains to rear her. Excuse a father's foolishness," continued he, "but I have seen much trouble in my family ; and this poor girl is all that is now left to me . 25 and she used to be so lively " " Maybe she 's in love ! " said the little Princess, with a shrewd nod of the head. " Impossible ! " replied the good Count, artlessly. " She has never mentioned a word of such a thing to 30 me." How little did the worthy gentleman dream of the thousand cares, and griefs, and mighty love concerns THE BEL A TED TRA VELERS 79 which agitate a virgin heart, and which a timid girl scarcely breathes unto herself. Tlie nephew of the Princess rose abruptly and walked about the room. When she found herself alone in her chamber, the 5 feelings of the young lady, so long restrained, broke forth with violence. She opened the casement that the cool air might blow upon her throbbing temples. Per- haps there was some little pride or pique mingled with her emotions ; though her gentle nature did not seem 10 calculated to harbor any such angry inmate. "He saw me weep!" said she, with a sudden man- tling of the cheek, and a swelling of the throat, — " but no matter ! — no matter ! " And so saying, she threw her white arms across the 15 wandow-frame, buried her face in them, and abandoned herself to an agony of tears. She remained lost in a reverie, until the sound of her father's and Caspar's voices in the adjoining room gave token that the party had retired for the night. The lights gleaming from 20 window to window, showed that they were conducting the Princess to her apartments, which were in the op- posite wing of the inn; and she distinctly saw the figure of the nephew as he passed one of the case- ments. 25 She heaved a deep heart-drawn sigh, and was about to close the lattice, when her attention was caught by words spoken below her window by two persons who had just turned an angle of the building. "But what will become of the poor young lady ?" 30 said a voice, which she recognized for that of the serv- ant-woman. 8o TALES OF A TRA VELER " Pooh ! she must take her chance," was the reply from old Pietro. " But cannot she be spared ? " asked the other, en- treatmgly ; " she's so kind-hearted ! " 5 " Cospetto ! what has got into thee?" replied the other, petulantly : " would you mar the whole business for the sake of a silly girl ? " By this time they had got so far from the window that the Polonaise could hear nothing further. There was something in this 10 fragment of conversation calculated to alarm. Did. it relate to herself? — and if so, what was this impending danger from which it was entreated that she might be spared ? She was several times on the point of tapping at her father's door, to tell him what she had heard, 15 but she might have been mistaken; she might have heard indistinctly ; the conversation might have alluded to some one else ; at any rate, it was too indefinite to lead to any conclusion. While in this state of irreso- lution, she was startled by a low knock against the 20 wainscot in a remote part of her gloomy chamber. On holding up tlie light, she beheld a small door there, which she had not l^efore remarked. It was bolted on the inside. She advanced, and demanded who knocked, and was answered in the voice of the female domestic. 25 On opening the door, the woman stood before it pale and agitated. She entered softly, laying her finger on her lips in sign of caution and secrecy. " Fly ! " said she : " leave this house instantly, or you are lost ! " 30 The young lady, trembling with alarm, demanded an explanation. 5. Cospetto. An exclamation equivalent to " Bother it." THE BELATED TRAVELERS 8i " I have no time," replied the woman, " I dare not — I shall be missed if I linger here — but fly instantly, or you are lost." " And leave my father?" " Where is he ? " S " In the adjoining chamber." " Call him, then, but lose no time." The young lady knocked at her father's door. He was not yet retired to bed. She hurried into his room, and told him of the fearful warnings she had received. lo The Count returned with her into the chamber, fol- lowed by Caspar. His questions soon drew the truth out of the embarrassed answers of the woman. The inn was beset by robbers. They were to be introduced after midnight, when the attendants of the Princess 15 and the rest of the travelers were sleeping, and would be an easy prey. " But we can barricade the inn, we can defend our- selves," said the Count. " What ! when the people of the inn are in league 20 with the banditti?" " How then are we to escape ? Can we not order out the carriage and depart ? " " San Francesco ! for what ? to give the alarm that the plot is discovered ? That would make the robbers 25 desperate, and bring them on you at once. They have had notice of the rich booty in the inn, and will not easily let it escape them." " But how else are we to get off?" " There is a horse behind the inn," said the woman, 30 " from which the man has just dismounted who has been to summon the aid of part of the band at a distance." 6 82 TALES OF A TRA VELER " One horse ; and there are three of us ! " said the Count. " And the Spanish Princess ! " cried the daughter, anxiously. " How can she be extricated from the 5 danger?" " Diavolo ! what is she to me ? " said the woman, in sudden passion. '' It is you I come to save, and you will betray me, and we shall all be lost ! Hark ! " con- tinued she, " I am called — I shall be discovered — one loword more. This door leads by a staircase to the courtyard. Under the shed, in the rear of the yard, is a small door leading out to the fields. You will find a horse there; mount it; make a circuit under the shadow of a ridge of rocks that you will see ; proceed 15 cautiously and quietly until you cross a brook, and find yourself on the road just where there are three white crosses nailed against a tree ; then put your horse to his speed, and make the best of your way to the village — but recollect, my life is in your hands — say nothing 20 of what you have heard or seen, whatever may happen at this inn." The woman hurried away. A short and agitated consultation took place between the Count, his daugh- ter, and the veteran Caspar. The young lady seemed 25 to have lost all apprehension for herself in her solici- tude for the safety of the Princess. " To fly in selfish silence, and leave her to be massacred!" — A shud- dering seized her at the very thought. The gallantry of the Count, too, revolted at the idea. He could not 30 consent to turn his back upon a party of helpless trav- 6. Diavolo I The Devil ! THE BEL A TED TRA VELERS Zt^ elers, and leave them in ignorance of the danger which hung over them. " But what is to become of the young lady," said Caspar, " if the alarm is given, and the inn thrown in a tumult ? What may happen to her in a chance- 5 medley affray ? " Here the feelings of the father were aroused ; he looked upon his lovely, helpless child, and trembled at the chance of her falling into the hands of ruf- fians. 10 The daughter, however, thought nothing of herself. " The Princess ! the Princess ! — only let the Princess know her danger." She was willing to share it with her. At length Caspar interfered with the zeal of a faithful 15 old servant. No time was to be lost — the first thing was to get the young lady out of danger. " Mount the horse," said he to the Count, " take her behind you, and fly! Make for the village, rouse the inhabitants, and send assistance. Leave me here to give the alarm 20 to the Princess and her people. I am an old soldier, and I think we shall be able to stand siege until you send us aid." The daughter would again have insisted on staying with the Princess — 25 " For what ? " said old Caspar, bluntly. " You could do no good — you would be in the way ; — we should have to take care of you instead of ourselves." There was no answering these objections ; the Count seized his pistols, and taking his daughter under hiss^ arm, moved towards the staircase. The young lady paused, stepped back, and said, faltering with agitation 84 TALES OF A TRA VELER 1 — " There is a young cavalier with the Princess — her nephew — perhaps he may " " I understand you, Mademoiselle," replied old Caspar, with a significant nod ; " not a hair of his head 5 shall suffer harm if I can help it." The young lady blushed deeper than ever ; she had not anticipated being so thoroughly understood by the blunt old servant. "That is not what I mean," said she, hesitating. 10 She would have added something, or made some ex- planation, but the moments were precious and her father hurried her away. They found their way through the courtyard to the small postern gate where the horse stood, fastened 15 to a ring in the wall. The Count mounted, took his daughter behind him, and they proceeded as quietly as possible in the direction which the woman had pointed out. Many a fearful and anxious look did the daughter cast back upon the gloomy pile ; the lights 20 which had feebly twinkled through the dusky case- ments were one by one disappearing, a sign that the inmates were gradually sinking to repose; and she trembled with impatience, lest succor should not arrive until that repose had been fatally interrupted. 25 They passed silently and safely along the skirts of the rocks, protected from observation by their overhanging shadows. They crossed the brook, and reached the place where three white crosses nailed against a tree told of some murder that had been committed there. Just as 30 they had reached this ill-omened spot they beheld sev- eral men in the gloom poming down a craggy defile among the rocks. THE BEL A TED TRA VELERS 8$; <' Who goes there ? " exclaimed a voice. The Count put spurs to his horse, but one of the men sprang for- ward and seized the bridle. The horse started back, and reared; and had not the young lady clung to her father, she would have been thrown off. The Count 5; leaned forward, put a pistol to the very head of the ruffian, and fired. The latter fell dead. The horse sprang forward. Two or three shots were fired which whistled by the fugitives, but only served to augment their speed. They reached the village in safety. la The whole place was soon roused ; but such was the awe in which the banditti were held, that the inhabit- ants shrunk at the idea of encountering them. A des- perate band had for some time infested that pass through the mountains, and the inn had long been sus- 15, pected of being one of those horrible places where the unsuspicious wayfarer is entrapped and silently dis- posed of. The rich ornaments worn by the slattern hostess of the inn had excited heavy suspicions. Sev- eral instances had occurred of small parties of travelers 20 disappearing mysteriously on that road, who, it was supposed at first, had been carried ofi: by the robbers for the purpose of ransom, but who had never been heard of more. Such were the tales buzzed in the ears of the Count by the villagers, as he endeavored to 25 rouse them to the rescue of the Princess and her train from their perilous situation. The daughter seconded the exertions of her father with all the eloquence of prayers, and tears, and beauty. Every moment that elapsed increased her anxiety until it became agonizing. 30 Fortunately there was a body of gendarmes resting at the village. A uumber of the young villagers volun- S6 TALES OF A TRA VELER teered to accompany them, and the little army was put in motion. The Count having deposited his daughter in a place of safety, was too much of the old soldier not to hasten to the scene of danger. It would be difficult 5 to print the anxious agitation of the young lady while awaiting the result. The party arrived at the inn just in time. The robbers, finding their plans discovered, and the trav- elers prepared for their reception, had become open TO and furious in their attack. The Princess's party had barricaded themselves in one suite of apartments, and repulsed the robbers from the doors and windows. Caspar had shown the generalship of a veteran, and the nephew of the Princess the dashing valor of a 15 young soldier. Their ammunition, however, was nearly exhausted, and they would have found it diffi- cult to hold out much longer, when a discharge from the musketry of the gendarmes gave them the joyful tidings of succor. 20 A fierce fight ensued, for part of the robbers were surprised in the inn, and had to stand siege in their turn ; while their comrades made desperate attempts to relieve them from under cover of the neighboring rocks and thickets. 25 I cannot pretend to give a minute account of the fight, as I have heard it related in a variety of ways. Suffice it to say, the robbers were defeated ; several of them killed, and several taken prisoners ; which last, together with the people of the inn, were either exe- 3ocuted or sent to the galleys. I picked up these particulars in the course of a journey which I made some time after the event had taken THE BELATED TRAVELERS 87 place. I passed by the very inn. It was then dis- mantled, excepting one wing, in which a body of gendarmes was stationed. They pointed out to me the shot-holes in the window-frames, the walls, and the panels of the doors. There were a number of withered 5 limbs dangling from the branches of a neighboring tree, and blackening in the air, which I was told were the limbs of the robbers who had been slain, and the culprits who had been executed. The whole place had a dismal, wild, forlorn look." 10 ''Were any of the Princess's party killed?" in- quired the Englishman. " As far as I can recollect, there were two or three." "Not the nephew, I trust?" said the fair Venetian. "Oh no : he hastened with the Count to relieve the 15 anxiety of the daughter by the assurances of victory. The young lady had been sustained through the interval of suspense by the very intensity of her feel- ings. The moment she saw her father returning in safety, accompanied by the nephew of the Princess, she 20 uttered a cry of rapture, and fainted. Happily, how- ever, she soon recovered, and what is more, was married shortly afterwards to the young cavalier ; and the whole party accompanied the old Princess in her pilgrimage to Loretto, where her votive offerings may 25 still be seen in the treasury of the Santa Casa." 26. Santa Casa. Holy House. The Santa Casa is the reputed house of the Virgin Mary at Nazareth. It was miraculously translated to Fiume, in Dalmatia, in 1291, thence to Recanati in 1294, and finally to Loretto. 88 TALES OF A TRA VELER The Adventure of the Englishman \^ the morning all was bustle in the hin at Terra- cina. The procaccio had departed at daybreak on his route towards Rome, but the Englishman was yet to start, and the departure of an English equipage is 5 always enough to keep an inn in a bustle. On this occasion there was more than usual stir, for the Eng- lishman having much property about him, and having been convinced of the real danger of the road, had ap- plied to the police and obtained, by dint of liberal pay, 10 an escort of eight dragoons and twelve foot-soldiers, as far as Fondio Perhaps, too, there might huve been a little ostenta- tion at bottom, though, to say the truth, he had noth- ing of it in his manner. He moved about, taciturn 15 and reserved as usual, among the gaping crowd, gave laconic orders to John, as he packed away the thou- sand and one indispensable conveniences of the night; double loaded his pistols with great sang froid, and deposited them in the pockets of the carriage ; taking 20 no notice of a pair of keen eyes gazing on him from among the herd of loitering idlers. 18. Sangfroid. Coolness. THE ADVENTURE OE THE ENGLISHMAN, 89 The fair Venetian now came up with a request, made in her dulcet tones, that he would permit their carriage to proceed under protection of his escort. The Englishman, who was busy loading another pair of pistols for his servant, and held the ramrod be- s tween his teeth, nodded assent, as a matter of course, but without lifting up his eyes. The fair Venetian was a little piqued at what she supposed indifference :— "O Dio!" ejaculated she softly as she retired; " Quanto sono insensibili questi Inglesi." 10 At length, off they set in gallant style. The eight dragoons prancing in front, the twelve foot-soldiers marching in rear, and the carriage moving slowly in the center, to enable the infantry to keep pace with them. They had proceeded but a few hundred yards, 15 when it was discovered that some indispensable ar- ticle had been left behind. In fact, the Englishman's purse was missing, and John was dispatched to the inn to search for it. This occasioned a little delay, and the carriage of the Venetians drove slowly on. 20 John came back out of breath and out of humor. The purse was not to be found. His master was irritated; he recollected the very place where it lay ; he had not a doubt the Italian servant had pocketed it. John was again sent back. He returned once more without 25 the purse, but with the landlord and the whole house- hold at his heels. A thousand ejaculations and pro- testations, accompanied by all sorts of grimaces and contortions — " No purse had been seen — his excellenza must be mistaken." 30 9. O Dio etc. Heavens ! how cold these English are. 90 TALES OF A TRA VELER "No — his excellenza was not mistaken — the purse lay on the marble table, under the mirror, a green purse, half full of gold and silver." Again a thousand grimaces and contortions, and vows by San Gennaro, 5 that no purse of the kind had been seen. The Englishman became furious. " The waiter had pocketed it — the landlord was a knave — the inn a den of thieves — it was a vile country — he had been cheated and plundered from one end of it to the other — but 10 he'd have satisfaction — he'd drive light off to the police. He was on the point of ordering the postilions to turn back, when, on rising, he displaced the cushion of the carriage, and the purse of money fell chinking to 15 the floor. All the blood in his body seemed to rush into his face. — " Curse the purse," said he, as he snatched it up. He dashed a handful of money on the ground before the pale cringing waiter, — " There, be off ! " 20 cried he. "John, order the postilions to drive on." About half an hour had been exhausted in this alter- cation. The Venetian carriage had loitered along ; its passengers looking out from time to time, and expect- ing the escort every moment to follow. They had 25 gradually turned an angle of the road that shut them out of sight. The little army was again in motion, and made a very picturesque appearance as it wound along at the bottom of the rocks ; the morning sun- shine beaming upon the weapons of the soldiery. 30 The Englishman lolled back in his carriage, vexed with himself at what had passed, and consequently out of humor with all the world. As this, however, is no THE ADVENTURE OP THE ENGLISHMAN 91 uncommon case with gentlemen who travel for their pleasure, it is hardly worthy of remark. They had wound up from the coast among the hills, and came to a part of the road that admitted of some prospect ahead. ^* I see nothing of the lady's carriage, sir," said John 5 leaning down from the coach-box. " Pish ! " said the Englishman, testily ; " don't plague me about the lady's carriage ; must I be continually pestered with the concerns of strangers ? " John said not another word, for he understood his master's mood. 10 The road grew more w^ild and lonely ; they were slowly proceeding on a foot-pace up a hill ; the dra- goons were some distance ahead, and had just reached the summit of the hill, when they uttered an exclama- tion, or rather shout, and galloped forward. The Eng- 15 lishman was roused from his sulky reverie. He stretched his head from the carriage, which had at- tained the brow of the hill. Before him extended a long hollow defile, commanded on one side by rugged precipitous heights, covered with bushes of scanty 20 forest. At some distance he beheld the carriage of the Venetians overturned. A numerous gang of desper- adoes were rifling it; the young man and his servant were overpowered, and partly stripped ; and the lady was in the hands of two of the rufiians. The English- 23 man seized his pistols, sprang from the carriage, and called upon John to follow him. In the mean time, as the dragoons came forward, the robbers, who were busy with the carriage, quitted their spoil, formed themselves in the middle of the 30 road, and taking a deliberate aim, fired. One of the dragoons fell, another was wounded, and the whole 95 TALES OF A TRA VELER were for a moment checked and thrown into confusion. The robbers loaded again in an instant. The dragoons discharged their carbines, but without apparent effect. They received another volley, which, though none fell, 5 threw them again into confusion. The robbers were loading a second time when they saw the foot-soldiers at hand. '^ Scanipa via f'* was the word: they aban- doned their prey, and retreated up the rocks, the sol- diers after them. They fought from cliff to cliff", and 10 bush to bush, the robbers turning every now and then to fire upon their pursuers; the soldiers scrambling after them, and discharging their muskets whenever they could get a chance. Sometimes a soldier or a robber was shot down, and came tumbling among the 15 cliff's. The dragoons kept firing from below, whenever a robber came in sight. The Englishman had hastened to the scene of action^ ;and the balls discharged at the dragoons had whistled past him as he advanced. One object, however, en- 20 grossed his attention. It was the beautiful Venetian lady in the hands of two of the robbers, who, during the confusion of the fight, carried her shrieking up the mountain. He saw her dress gleaming among the bushes, and he sprang up the rocks to intercept the 25 robbers, as they bore off their prey. The ruggedness of the steep, and the entanglements of the bushes, de- layed and impeded him. He lost sight of the lady, but was still guided by her cries, which grew fainter and fainter. They were off to the left, while the reports of 30 muskets showed that the battle was raging to the right. 7. Scampa via ! Run quickly 1 THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGLISHMAN 93 At length he came upon what appeared to be a rugged footpath, faintly worn in a gulley of the rocks, and be- held the ruffians at some distance hurrying the lady up the defile. One of them hearing his approach, let go his prey, advanced towards him, and leveling the 5 carbine which had been slung on his back, fired. The ball whizzed through the Englishman's hat, and car- ried with it some of his hair. He returned the fire with one of his pistols, and the robber fell. The other brig- and now dropped the lady, and drawing a long pistol 10 from his belt, fired on his adversary with deliberate aim. The ball passed between his left arm and his side, slightly wounding the arm. The Englishman advanced, and discharged his remaining pistol, which wounded the robber, but not severely. ^S The brigand drew a stiletto and rushed upon his adversary, who eluded the blow, receiving merely a slight wound, and defended himself with his pistol,, which had a spring bayonet. They closed with one another, and a desperate struggle ensued. The robber '^^ was a square-built, thick-set man, powerful, muscular, and active. The Englishman, though of larger frame and greater strength, was less active, and less accus- tomed to athletic exercises and feats of hardihood, but he showed himself practised and skilled in the art of 25; defense. They were on a craggy height, and the Eng- lishman perceived that his antagonist was striving to press him to the edge. A side-glance showed him also the robber whom he had first wounded, scrambling up to the assistance of his comrade, stiletto in hand. He 30* had in fact attained the summit of the cliff, he was within a few steps, and the Englishman felt that his 94 TALES OF A TRA VELER ^! case was desperate, when he heard suddenly the report of a pistol, and the ruffian fell. The shot came from John, who had arrived just in time to save his master. The remaining robber, exhausted by loss of blood 5 and the violence of the contest, showed signs of fal- tering. The Englishman pursued his advantage, pressed on him, and as his strength relaxed, dashed him headlong from the precipice. He looked after him, and saw him lying motionless among the rocks below. 10 The Englishman now sought the fair Venetian. He found her senseless on the ground. With his servant's assistance he bore her down to the road, where her husband was raving like one distracted. He had sought her in vain, and had given her over for lost ; and when 15 he beheld her thus brought back in safety, his joy was equally wild and ungovernable. He would have caught her insensible form to his bosom had not the English- man restrained him. The latter, now really aroused, displayed a true tenderness and manly gallantry, which 20 one would not have expected from his habitual phlegm. His kindness, however, was practical, not wasted in words. He dispatched John to the carriage for restoratives of all kinds, and, totally thoughtless of himself, was anxious only about his lovely charge. 25 The occasional discharge of firearms along the height, showed that a retreating fight was still kept up by the robbers. The lady gave signs of reviving animation. The Englishman, eager to get her from this place of danger, conveyed her to his own carriage, and, com- 30 mitting her to the care of her husband, ordered the dragoons to escort them to Fondi. The Venetian would have insisted on the Englishman's getting into the car- THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGLISHMAN 95 riage ; but the latter refused. He poured forth a torrent of thanks and benedictions ; but the Englishman beck- oned to the postilions to drive on. John now dressed his master's wounds, which were found not to be serious, though he was faint with loss of blood. The Venetian carriage had been righted, and the baggage replaced ; and, getting into it, they set out on their way towards Fondi, leaving the foot- soldiers still engaged in ferreting out the banditti. Before arriving at Fondi, the fair Venetian had com- lo pletely recovered from her swoon. She made the usual question, — '' Where was she ? " "In the Englishman's carriage." " How had she escaped from the robbers?" 15 "The Englishman had rescued her." Her transports were unbounded; and mingled with them were enthusiastic ejaculations of gratitude to her deliverer. A thousand times did she reproach herself for having accused him of coldness and insensibility. 20 The moment she saw him, she rushed into his arms with the vivacity of her nation, and hung about his neck in a speechless transport of gratitude. Never was man more embarrassed by the embraces of a fine woman. " Tut !— tut ! " said the Englishman. 25 "You are wounded!" shrieked the fair Venetian as she saw blood upon his clothes. " Pooh ! nothing at all ! " " My deliverer ! — my angel ! " exclaimed she, clasp- ing him again round the neck, and sobbing on his 30 bosom. " Pish ! " said the Englishman, with a good-humored 96 TALES OF A TRA VELER tone, but looking somewhat foolish, " this is all hum- bug." The fair Venetian, however, has never since accused the English of insensibility. Kidd the Pirate 5 In old times, just after the territory of the New Netherlands had been wrested from the hands of their High Mightinesses, the Lords States-General of Hol- land, by King Charles the Second, and while it was as yet in an unquiet state, the province was a great re- 10 sort of random adventurers, loose livers, and all that class of hap-hazard fellows who live by their wits, and dislike the old-fashioned restraint of law and gospel. Among these, the foremost were the buccaneers. These were rovers of the deep, who perhaps in time of 15 war had been educated in those schools of piracy, the privateers ; but having once tasted the sweets of plunder, had ever retained a hankering after it. There is but a slight step from the privateersman to the pirate; both fight for the love of plunder; only that 20 the latter is the bravest, as he dares both the enemy and the gallows. But in whatever school they had been taught, the buccaneers that kept about the English colonies were daring fellows, and made sad work in times of peace 5. New Netherlands. The Duke of York, a brother of the English King, had this territory granted to him in 1664 and at once took quietly posses- sion of it, changing its name to New York. KIDD THE PIRA TE 97 among the Spanish settlements and Spanish merchant- men. The easy access to the harbor of the Manhat- toes, the number of hiding-places about its waters, and the laxity of its scarcely-organized government, made it a great rendezvous of the pirates ; where they s might dispose of their booty, and concert new depre- dations. As they brought home with them wealthy lading of all kinds, the luxuries of the tropics, and the sumptuous spoils of the Spanish provinces, and dis- posed of them with the proverbial carelessness of free- 10 hooters, they were welcome visitors to the thrifty traders of the Manhattoes. Crews of these desperadoes, therefore, the runagates of every country and every clime, might be seen swaggering in open day about the streets of the little burgh, elbowing its quiet myn- 15 heers ; trafficking away their rich outlandish plunder at half or quarter price to the wary merchant; and then squandering their prize-money in taverns, drink- ing, gambling, singing, swearing, shouting and as- tounding the neighborhood with midnight brawl and 20 ruffian revelry. At length these excesses rose to such a height as to become a scandal to the provinces, and to call loudly for the interposition of government. Measures were accordingly taken to put a stop to the widely-ex- 25 tended evil, and to ferret this vermin brood out of the colonies. Among the agents employed to execute this purpose was the notorious Captain Kidd. He had long been 2. Manhattoes. When the Dutch settled at the present site of New York, they adopted the Indian name and called it Manhattan and its former inhabitants the Manhattoes. 15. Mynheers. Dutch for " sirs." 7 98 TALES OF A TRA VELER ail equivocal character; one of those nondescript ani- mals of the ocean that are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. He was somewhat of a trader, something more of a smuggler, with a considerable dash of the picaroon. 5 He had traded for many years among the pirates, in a little rakish, mosquito-built vessel, that could run into all kinds of waters. He knew all their haunts and lurking-places; was always hooking about on myster- ious voyages, and was as busy as a Mother Gary's 10 chicken in a storm. This nondescript personage was pitched upon by government as the very man to hunt the pirates by sea, upon the good old maxim of "setting a rogue to catch a rogue;" or as otters are sometimes used to IS catch their cousins-german, the fish. Kidd accordingly sailed for New York, in 1695, in a gallant vessel called the Adventure Galley^ well armed and duly commissioned. On arriving at his old haunts, however, he shipped his crew on new terms ; 20 enlisted a number of his old comrades, lads of the knife and the pistol ; and then set sail for the East. Instead o! cruising against pirates, he turned pirate himself; steered to the Madeiras, to Bonavista, and Madagascar, and cruised about the entrance of the Red 25 Sea. Here, among other maritime robberies, he cap- tured a rich Quedah merchantman, manned by Moors, though commanded by an Englishman. Kidd would fain have passed this otf for a worthy exploit, as being a kind of crusade against the infidels; but govern- 30 ment had long since lost all relish for such Christian triumphs. After roaming the seas, trafficking his prizes, and KIDD THE PIRATE 99 changing from ship to ship, Kidd had the hardihood to return to Boston, laden with booty, with a crew of swaggering companions at his heels. Times, however, were changed. The buccaneers could no longer show a whisker in the colonies with 5 impunity. The new governor, Lord Bellamont, had signalized himself by his zeal in extirpating these of- fenders; and was doubly exasperated against Kidd- having been instrumental in appointing him to the trust which he had betrayed. No sooner, therefore, 10 did he show himself in Boston, than the alarm was given of liis reappearance, and measures were taken to arrest this cutpurse of the ocean. The daring character which Kidd had acquired, however, and the desperate fellows who followed like bull-dogs at his heels, caused 15 a little delay in his arrest. He took advantage of this, it is said, to bury the greater part of his treasures and then carried a high head about the streets of Boston. He even attempted to defend himself when arrested, but was secured and thrown into prison, with his fol- 20 lowers. Such was the formidable character of this pirate and his crew, that it was thought advisable to dispatch a frigate to bring them to England. Great exertions were made to screen him from justice, but in vain ; he and his comrades were tried, condemned, and 25 hanged at Execution Dock in London. Kidd died hard, for the rope with which he was first tied up broke with his weight, and he tumbled to the ground. He was tied up a second time, and more effectually ; hence came, doubtless, the story of Kidd's having a IP charmed life, and that he had to be twice hanged. Such is the inain outline of Kidd's history ; but \% 100 TALES OF A TRAVELER has given birth to an innumerable progeny of tradi- tions. The report of his having buried great treasures of gold and jewels before his arrest, set the brains of all the good people along the coast in a ferment. 5 There were rumors on rumors of great sums of money found here and there, sometimes in one part of the country, sometimes in another ; of coins with Moorish inscriptions, doubtless the spoils of his eastern prizes, but which the common people looked upon with super- lostitious awe, regarding the Moorish letters as diabolical or magical characters. Some reported the treasure to have been buried in solitary, unsettled places, about Plymouth and Cape Cod; but by degrees various other parts, not only on 15 the eastern coast, but along the shores of the Sound, and even of Manhattan and Long Island, w^ere gilded by these rumors. In fact, the rigorous measures of Lord Bellamont spread sudden consternation among the buccaneers in every part of the provinces : they 20 secreted their money and jewels in lonely, out-of-the- way places, about the wild shores of the rivers and sea- coast, and dispersed themselves over the face of the country. The hand of justice prevented many of them from ever returning to regain their buried treasures, 25 which remained, and remain probably to this day, ob- jects of enterprise for the money-digger. This is the cause of those frequent reports of trees and rocks bearing mysterious marks, supposed to in- dicate the spots where treasure lay hidden ; and many 30 have been the ransackings after the pirate's booty. In all the stories which once abounded of these enter- prises, the devil played a conspicuous part, Either he KIDD THE PIRATE lOl was conciliated by ceremonies and invocations, or some solemn compact was made with him. Still he was ever prone to play the money-diggers some slippery trick. Some would dig so far as to come to an iron chest, when some baffling circumstance was s sure to take place. Either the earth would fall in and fill up the pit, or some direful noise or apparition would frighten the party from the place : sometimes the devil himself would appear, and bear off the prize when within their very grasp ; and if they revisited lo the place the next day, not a trace would be found of their labors of the preceding night. All these rumors, however, were extremely vague, and for a long time tantalized, without gratifying, my curiosity. There is nothing in this world so hard to 15 get at as truth, and there is nothing in this world but truth that I care for. I sought among all my favorite sources of authentic information, the oldest inhabi- tants, and particularly the old Dutch wives of the prov- ince ; but though I flatter myself that I am better 20 versed than most men in the curious history of my native province, yet for a long time my inquiries were unattended with any substantial result. At length it happened that, one calm day in the latter part of summer, I was relaxing myself from the toils 25 of severe study, by a day's amusement in fishing in those waters which had been the favorite resort of my boyhood. I was in company with several worthy burghers of my native city, among whom were more than one illustrious member of the corporation, whose 30 names, did I dare to mention them, would do honor to my humble page, Our sport was indifferent. The fish 102 TALES OF A TRAVELER did not bite freely, and we frequently changed our fishing-ground without bettering our luck. We were at length anchored close under a ledge of rocky coast, on the eastern side of the island of Manhatta. It was 5 a still, warm day. The stream whirled and dimpled by us, without a wave or even a ripple ; and every- thing was so calm and quiet, that it was almost startling when the kingfisher would pitch himself from the branch of some high tree, and after suspending himself 10 for a moment in the air, to take his aim, would souse into the smooth water after his prey. While we were lolling in our boat, half drowsy with the warm stillness of the day and the dulness of our sport, one of our party, a worthy alderman, was overtaken by a slumber, 15 and, as he dozed, suffered the sinker of his drop-line to lie upon the bottom of the river. On waking, he found he had caught something of importance from the weight. On drawing it to the surface, we were much surprised to find it a long pistol of very curious and 20 outlandish fashion, which, from its rusted condition, and its stock being wormeaten and covered with bar- nacles, appeared to have lain a long time under water. The unexpected appearance of this document of warfare, occasioned much speculation among my pacific com- 25panions. One supposed it to have fallen there during the Revolutionary War ; another, from the peculiarity of its fashion, attributed it to the voyagers in the earliest days of the settlement ; perchance to the re- nowned Adrian Block, who explored the Sound, and 30 discovered Block Island, since so noted for its cheese. But a third, after regarding it for some time, pro- nounced it to be of veritable Spanish workmanship. KIDD THE PIRA TE 103 " ril warrant,^' said he, "if this pistol could talk, it would tell strange stories of hard fights among the Spanish Dons. I've no doubt but it is a relic of the buccaneers of old times — who knows but it belonged to Kidd himself?" 5 " Ah ! that Kidd was a resolute fellow," cried an old iron-faced Cape Cod whaler. — *' There's a fine old song about him, all to the tune of — My name is Captain Kidd As I sailed, as I sailed — 10 And then it tells about how he gained the devil's good graces by burying the Bible : I had the Bible in my hand, As I sailed, as I sailed. And I buried it in the sand, iq As I sailed. — " Odsfish if I thought this pistol had belonged to Kidd, I should set great store by it, for curiosity's sake. By the way, I recollect a story about a fellow who once dug up Kidd's buried money, which was written by a 20 neighbor of mine, and which I learnt by heart. As the fish don't bite just now, I'll tell it to you, by way of passing away the time." — And so saying, he gave us the followinoc narration. 104 TALES OF A TRAVELER The Devil and Tom Walker A FEW miles from Boston in Massachusetts, there is a deep inlet, winding several miles into the interior of the country from Charles Bay, and terminating in a thickly- wooded swamp or morass. On one side of this S inlet is a beautiful dark grove ; on the opposite side the land rises abruptly from the water's edge into a high ridge, on which grow a few scattered oaks of great age and immense size. Under one of these gigantic trees, according to old stories, there was a great amount 10 of treasure buried by Kidd the pirate. The inlet al- lowed a facility to bring the money in a boat secretly and at night to the very foot of the hill ; the elevation of the place permitted a good look-out to be kept that no one was at hand ; while the remarkable trees formed 15 good landmarks by which the place might easily be found again. The old stories add, moreover, that the devil presided at the hiding of the money, and took it under his guardianship ; but this, it is well known, he always does with buried treasure, particularly when it 20 has been ill-gotten. Be that as it may, Kidd never returned to recover his wealth ; being shortly after seized at Boston, sent out to England, and there hanged for a pirate. About the year 1727, just at the time that earth- 25 quakes were prevalent in New England, and shook many tall sinners down upon their knees, there lived THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 105 near this place a meagre, miserly fellow, of the name of Tom Walker. He had a wife as miserly as himself : they were so miserly that they even conspired to cheat each other. Whatever the woman could lay hands on, she hid away ; a hen could not cackle but she was on ^ the alert to secure the new-laid ^gg. Her husband was continually prying about to detect her secret hoards, and many and fierce were the conflicts that took place about what ought to have been common property. They lived in a forlorn-looking house that ^o stood alone, and had an air of starvation. A few strag- gling savin trees, emblems of sterility, grew near it; no smoke ever curled from its chimney ; no travelers stopped at its door. A miserable horse, whose ribs were as articulate as the bars of a gridiron, stalked ^5 about a field, where a thin carpet of moss, scarcely covering the ragged beds of puddingstone, tantalized and balked his hunger; and sometimes he would lean his head over the fence, look piteously at the passer- by, and seem to petition deliverance from this land of ^o famine. The house and its inmates had altogether a bad name. Tom's wife was a tall termagant, fierce of temper, loud of tongue, and strong of arm. Her voice was often heard in wordy warfare with her husband; 25 and his face sometimes showed signs that their con- flicts were not confined to words. No one ventured, however, to interfere between them. The lonely way- farer shrunk within himself at the horrid clamor and clapper-clawing ; eyed the den of discord askance ; and 30 hurried on his way, rejoicing, if a bachelor, in his celibacy. Io6 TALES OF A TRAVELER One day that Tom Walker had been to a distant part of the neighborhood, he took what he considered a sliort cut homeward, through the swamp. Like most short cuts, it was an ill-chosen route. The swamp 5 was thickly grown with great gloomy pines and hem- locks, some of them ninety feet high, which made it dark at noonday, and a retreat for all the owls of the neighborhood. It was full of pits and quagmires, partly covered with weeds and mosses, where the green sur- loface often betrayed the traveler into a gulf of black, smothering mud : there were also dark and stagnant pools, the abode of the tadpole, the bull-frog, and the water-snake ; where the trunks of pines and hemlocks lay half-drowned, half-rotting, looking like alligators IS sleeping in the mire. Tom had long been picking his way cautiously through this treacherous forest ; stepping from tuft to tuft of rushes and roots, which afforded precarious footholds among deep sloughs ; or pacing carefully, 20 like a cat, along the prostrate trunks of trees ; startled now and then by the sudden screaming of the bittern, or the quacking of a wild duck rising on the wing from some solitary pool. At length he arrived at a piece of firm ground, which ran out like a peninsula 25 into the deep bosom of the swamp. It had been one of the strongholds of the Indians during their wars with the first colonists. Here they had thrown up a kind of fort, which they had looked upon as almost impregnable, and had used as a place of refuge for 30 their squaws and children. Nothing remained of the old Indian fort but a few embankments, gradually sinking to the level of the surrounding earth, and THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 107 already overgrown in part by oaks and other forest trees, the foliage of which formed a contrast to the dark pines and hemlocks of the swamp. It was late in the dusk of evening when Tom Walker reached the old fort, and he paused there awhile to rest 5 himself. Any one but he would have felt unwilling to linger in this lonely, melancholy place, for the common people had a bad opinion of it, from the stories handed down from the time of the Indian wars ; when it was asserted that the savages held incantations here, and ^^ made sacrifices to the evil spirit. Tom Walker, however, was not a man to be troubled with any fears of the kind. He reposed himself for some time on the trunk of a fallen hemlock, listening to the boding cry of the tree-toad, and delving with^S his walking-staff into a mound of black mould at his feet. As he turned up the soil unconsciously, his staff struck against something hard. He raked it out of the vegetable mould, and lo ! a cloven skull, with an Indian tomahawk buried deep in it, lay before him. The rust 20 on the weapon showed the time that had elapsed since this death-blow had been given. It was a dreary memento of the fierce struggle that had taken place in this last foothold of the Indian warriors. " Humph ! " said Tom Walker, as he gave it a kick 25 to shake the dirt from it. " Let that skull alone ! " said a gruff voice. Tom lifted up his eyes, and beheld a great black man seated directly opposite him, on the stump of a tree. He was exceedingly surprised, having neither heard nor seen 30 any one approach ; and he was still more perplexed on observing, as well as the gathering gloom would permit, io8 TALES OF A TRAVELER that the stranger was neither negro nor Indian. It is true he was dressed in a rude half Indian garb, and had a red belt or sash swathed round his body; but his face was neither black nor copper-color, but swarthy sand dingy, and begrimed with soot, as if he had been accustomed to toil among fires and forges. He had a shock of coarse black hair, that stood out from his head in all directions, and bore an axe on his shoulder. He scowled for a moment at Tom with a pair of great TO red eyes. "What are you doing on my grounds?" said the black man, with a hoarse growling voice. " Your grounds ! " said Tom with a sneer ; " no more your grounds than mine ; they belong to Deacon 15 Peabody." " Deacon Peabody be d — d," said the stranger, " as I flatter myself he will be, if he does not look more to his own sins and less to those of his neighbors. Look yonder, and see how Deacon Peabody is faring." 20 Tom looked in the direction that the stranger pointed, and beheld one of the great trees, fair and flourishing without, but rotten at the core, and saw that it had been nearly hewn through, so that the first high wind was likely to blow it down. On the bark of the tree 25 was scored the name of Deacon Peabody, an eminent man, who had waxed wealthy by driving shrewd bar- gains with the Indians. He now looked around, and found most of the tall trees marked with the name of some great man of the colony, and all more or less 30 scored by the axe. The one on which he had been seated, and which had evidently just been hewn down, bore the name of Crowninshield : and he recollected a THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 109 mighty rich man of that name, who made a vulgar display of wealth, which it was whispered he had ac- quired by buccaneering. "He's just ready for burning! " said the black man, with a growl of triumph. " You see I am likely to 5 have a good stock of firewood for winter." "But what right have you," said Tom, "to cut down Deacon Peabody's timber ? " a rpj^g right of a prior claim," said the other. " This woodland belonged to me long before one of your white- 10 faced race put foot upon the soil." " And pray, who are you, if I may be so bold ? " said Tom. " Oh, I go by various names. I am the wild hunts- man in some countries ; the black miner in others. In 15 this neighborhood I am known by the name of the black woodsman. I am he to whom the red men con- secrated this spot, and in honor of whom they now and then roasted a white man, by way of sweet-smell- ing sacrifice. Since the red men have been exter- 20 minated by you white savages, I amuse myself by pre- siding at the persecutions of Quakers and Anabaptists ; I am the great patron and promoter of slave-dealers, and the grand-master of the Salem witches." " The upshot of all which is, if I mistake not," said 25 Tom, sturdily, "you are he commonly called Old Scratch." "The same, at you service! " replied the black man, with a half civil nod. Such was the opening of this interview, according to 7P the old story ; though it has almost too familiar an air to be credited. One would think that to meet with no TALES OF A TRAVELER such a singular personage, in this wild, lonely place, would have shaken any man's nerves ; but Tom was a hard- minded fellow, not easily daunted, and he had lived so long with a termagant wife that he did not 5 even fear the devil. It is said that after this commencement they had a long and earnest conversation together, as Tom re- turned homeward. The black man told him of great sums of money buried by Kidd the pirate, under the 10 oak-trees on the high ridge, not far from the morass. All these were under his command, and protected by his power, so that none could find them but such as propitiated his favor. These he offered to place within Tom Walker's reach, having conceived an especial 1 5 kindness for him; but they were to be had only on certain conditions. What these conditions were may be easily surmised, though Tom never disclosed them publicly. They must have been very hard, for he re- quired time to think of them, and he was not a man 20 to stick at trifles when money was in view. When they had reached the edge of the swamp, the stranger paused — " What^proof have I that all you have been telling me is true?" said Tom. "There's my signa- ture," said the black man, pressing his finger on Tom's 25 forehead. So saying, he turned off among the thickets of the swamp, and seemed, as Tom said, to go down, down, down, into the earth, until nothing but his head and shoulders could be seen, and so on, until he totally disappeared. 30 When Tom reached home, he found the black print of a finger burnt, as it were, into his forehead, w^hich nothing could obliterate. THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER iii The first news his wife had to tell him was the sud- den death of Absalom Crowninshield, the rich buc- aneer. It was announced in the papers with the usual flourish, that "A great man had fallen in Israel." Tom recollected the tree which his black friend had 5 just hewn down, and which was ready for burning, "Let the freebooter roast," said Tom, "who cares?" He now felt convinced that all he had heard and seen was no illusion. He was not prone to let his wife into his confidence ; 10 but as this was an uneasy secret, he willingly shared it with her. All her avarice was awakened at the mention of hidden gold, and she urged her husband to comply with the black man's terms, and secure what would make them wealthy for life. However Tom 15 might have felt disposed to sell himself to the Devil, he was determined not to do so to oblige his wife ; so he flatly refused, out of the mere spirit of contradic- tion. Many and bitter were the quarrels they had on the subject; but the more she talked, the more resolute 20 was Tom not to be damned to please her. At length she determined to drive^the bargain on her own account, and if she succeeded, to keep all the gain to herself. Being of the same fearless temper as her husband, she set off for the old Indian fort towards 25 the close of a summer's day. She was many hours absent. When she came back, she was reserved and sullen in her replies. She spoke something of a black man, whom she had met about twilight, hewing at the root of a tall tree. He was sulky, however, and would 30 not come to terms : she was to go again with a propi- tiatory offering, but what it was she forebore to say. 1 1 2 TALES OF A TRA VELER The next evening she set off again for the swamp, with her apron heavily laden. Tom waited and waited for her, but in vain ; midnight came, but she did not make her appearance : morning, noon, night returned, 5 but still she did not come. Tom now grew uneasy for her safety, especially as he found she had carried off in her apron the silver tea-pot and spoons, and every portable article of value. Another night elapsed, an- other morning came ; but no wife. In a word, she was 10 never heard of more. What was her real fate nobody knows, in conse- quence of so many pretending to know. It is one of those facts which have become confounded by a variety of historians. Some asserted that she lost her way 15 among the tangled mazes of the swamp, and sank into some pit or slough ; others, more uncharitable, hinted that she had eloped with the household booty, and made off to some other province ; while others sur- mised that the tempter had decoyed her into a dismal 20 quagmire, on the top of which her hat was found lying. In confirmation of this, it was said a great black man, with an axe on his shoulder, was seen late that very evening coming out of the swamp, carrying a bundle tied in a check apron, with an air of surly 25 triumph. The most current and probable story, however, ob- serves, that Tom Walker grew so anxious about the fate of his wife and his property, that he set out at length to seek them both at the Indian fort. During 30 a long summer's afternoon he searched about the gloomy place, but no wife was to be seen. He called her name repeatedly, but she was nowhere to ba THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 113 heardc The bittern alone responded to his voice, as he flew screaming by ; or the bull-frog croaked dolefully from a neighboring pool. At length, it is said, just in the brown hour of twilight, when the owls began to hoot, and the bats to flit about, his attention was at- 5 tracted by the clamor of carrion crows hovering about a cypress-tree. He looked up, and beheld a bundle tied in a check apron, and hanging in the branches of the tree, with a great vulture perched hard by, as if keeping watch upon it. He leaped with joy ; for he 10 recognized his wife's apron, and supposed it to contain the household valuables. " Let us get hold of the property," said he consol- ingly to himself, "and we will endeavor to do without the woman." 15 As he scrambled up the tree, the vulture spread its wide wings, and sailed olf screaming into the deep shadows of the forest. Tom seized the checked apron, but woeful sight ! found nothing but a heart and liver tied up in it ! 20 Such, according to this most authentic old story, was all that was to be found of Tom's wife. She had prob- ably attempted to deal with the black man as she had been accustomed to deal with her husband ; but though a female scold is generally considered a match 25 for the devil, yet in this instance she appears to have had the worst of it. She must have died game, how- ever; for it is said Tom noticed many prints of cloven feet deeply stamped about the tree, and found hand- f uls of hair, that looked as if they had been plucked Z^ from the coarse black shock of the woodman. Tom knew his wife's prowess by experience. He shrugged 114 TALES OF A TRAVELER his shoulders, as he looked at the signs of a fierce clapper-clawing. "Egad," said he to himself, "Old Scratch must have had a tough time of it ! " Tom consoled himself for the loss of his property, 5 with the loss of his wife, for he was a man of forti- tude. He even felt something like gratitude towards the black woodman, who, he considered, had done him a kindness. He sought, therefore, to cultivate a further acquaintance with him, but for some time 10 without success; the old black-legs played shy, for whatever people may think, he is not always to be had for calling for : he knows how to play his cards when pretty sure of his game. At length, it is said, when delay had whetted Tom's 15 eagerness to the quick, and prepared him to agree to anything rather than not gain the promised treasure, he met the black man one evening in his usual wood- man's dress, with his axe on his shoulder, sauntering along the swamp, and humming a tune. He affected 20 to receive Tom's advances with great indifference, made brief replies, and went on humming his tune. By degrees, however, Tom brought him to business, and they began to haggle about the terms on which the former was to have the pirate's treasure. There 25 was one condition which need not be mentioned, being generally understood in all cases where the devil grants favors ; but there were others about which, though of less importance, he was inflexibly obstinate. He insisted that the money found through his means 3° should be employed in his service. He proposed, therefore, that Tom should employ it in the black traffic ; that is to say, that he should fit out a slave- THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 115 ship. This, however, Tom resolutely refused : he was bad enough in all conscience ; but the devil himself could not tempt him to turn slave-trader. Finding Tom so squeamish on this point, he did not insist upon it, but proposed, instead, that he should 5 turn usurer ; the devil being extremely anxious for the increase of usurers, looking upon them as his peculiar people. To this no objections were made, for it was just to Tom's taste. 10 " You shall open a broker's shop in Boston next month," said the black man. "I'll do it to-morrow, if you wish," said Tom Walker. " You shall lend money at two per cent, a month." 15 " Egad, I'll charge four ! " replied Tom Walker. " You shall extort bonds, foreclose mortgages, drive the merchant to bankruptcy " " I'll drive him to the d-^ — 1," cried Tom Walker. " You are the usurer for my money ! " said the black- ao legs with delight. "When will you want the rhino?" " This very night." "Done ! " said the devil. " Done ! " said Tom Walker. So they shook hands and struck a bargain. 25 A few days' time saw Tom Walker seated behind his desk in a counting-house in Boston. His reputation for a ready-moneyed man, who would lend money out for a good consideration, soon spread abroad. Everybody remembers the time of Governor 30 Belcher, when money was particularly scarce. It was a time of paper credit. The country had been deluged Ii6 TALES OF A TRAVELER with government bills, the famous Land Bank had been established ; there had been a rage for speculat- ing ; the people had run mad with schemes for new settlements ; for building cities in the wilderness ; land- 5 jobbers went about with maps of grants, and town- ships, and Eldorados, lying nobody knew where, but which everybody was ready to purchase. In a word, the great speculating fever which breaks out every now and then in the country had raged to an alarming 10 degree, and everybody was dreaming of making sudden fortunes from nothing. As usual the fever had sub- sided; the dream had gone off, and the imaginary fortunes with it; the patients were left in doleful plight, and the whole country resounded with the con- 15 sequent cry of "hard times." At this propitious time of public distress did Tom Walker set up as usurer in Boston. His door was soon thronged by customers. The needy and advent- urous ; the gambling speculator ; the dreaming land- 20 jobber; the thriftless tradesman; the merchant with cracked credit ; in short, every one driven to raise money by desperate means and desperate sacrifices, hurried to Tom Walker. Thus Tom was the universal friend of the needy, and 25 acted like a " friend in need ; " that is to say, he always exacted good pay and good security. In proportion to the distress of the applicant was the hardness of his terms. He accumulated bonds and mortgages ; gradu- ally squeezed his customers closer and closer ; and sent 30 them at length, dry as a sponge, from his door. 1 . Land Bank. A scheme in Massachusetts by which paper money, re- deemable at a remote date, was issued, with mortgages on land at a low rate of interest as security, Governor Belcher >vas in office from 1730 to 1741, THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 117 In this way he made money hand over hand ; became a rich and mighty man, and exalted his cocked hat upon 'Change. He built himself, as usual, a vast house, out of ostentation ; but left the greater part of it unfinished and unfurnished, out of parsimony. He 5 even set up a carriage in the fullness of his vainglory, though he nearly starved the horses which drew it ; and as the ungreased w^heels groaned and screeched on the axle-trees, you would have thought you heard the souls of the poor debtors he was squeezing. 10 As Tom waxed old, however, he grew thoughtful. Having secured the good things of this world, be began to feel anxious about those of the next. He thought with regret on the bargain he had made with his black friend, and set his wits to work to cheat him out of 15 the conditions. He became, therefore, all of a sudden, a violent church-goer. He prayed loudly and strenu- ously, as if heaven were to be taken by force of lungs. Indeed, one might always tell when he had sinned most during the week, by the clamor of his Sunday 30 devotion. The quiet Christians who had been mod- estly and steadfastly traveling Zionward were struck with self-reproach at seeing themselves so suddenly outstripped in their career by this new-made convert. Tom was as rigid in religious as in money matters ; he ?5 was a stern supervisor and censurer of his neighbors, and seemed to think every sin entered up to their account became a credit on his own side of the page. He even talked of the expediency of reviving the per- secution of Quakers and Anabaptists. In a word, 30 Tom's zeal became as notorious as his riches. Still, in spite of all this strenuous attention to forms, Ii8 TALES OF A TRAVELER Tom had a lurking dread that the devil, after all, would have his due. That he might not be taken unawares, therefore, it is said he always carried a small Bible in his coat' pocket. He had also a great folio Bible on his 5 counting-house desk, and would frequently be found reading it when people called on business ; on such occasions he would lay his green spectacles in the book, to mark the place, while he turned round to drive some usurious bargain. 10 Some say that Tom grew a little crack-brained in his old days, and that fancying his end approaching, he had his horse new shod, saddled and bridled, and buried with his feet uppermost ; because he supposed that at the last day the world would be turned upside down; 15 in which case he should find his horse standing ready for mounting, and he was determined at the worst to give his ol.d friend a run for it. This, however, is prob- ably a mere old wives' fable. If he really did take such a precaution, it was totally superfluous ; at least 20 so says the authentic old legend, which closes his story in the following manner. One hot summer afternoon in the dog-days, just as a terrible black thundergust was coming up, Tom sat in his counting-house in his white linen cap and India 25 silk morning-gown. He was on the point of foreclosing a mortgage, by which he would complete the ruin of an unlucky land speculator for whom he had professed the greatest friendship. The poor land-jobber begged him to grant a few months' indulgence. Tom had 30 grown testy and irritated, and refused another day. " My family will be ruined, and brought upon the parish," said the land-jobber. "Charity begins at THE DEVIL AND TOM WALKER 119 home," replied Tom ; " I must take care of myself in these hard times." " You have made so much money out of me," said the speculator. Tom lost his patience and his piety — " The devil take 5 me," said he, " if I have made a farthing ! " Just then there were three loud knocks at the street door. He stepped out to see who was there. A black man was holding a black horse, which neighed and stamped with impatience. 10 "Tom, you're come for," said the black fellow, gruffly. Tom shrunk back, but too late. He had left his little Bible at the bottom of his coat-pocket, and his big Bible on the desk buried under the mortgage he was about to foreclose: never was sinner taken 15 more unawares. The black man whisked him like a child into the saddle, gave the horse the lash, and away he galloped, with Tom on his back, in the midst of the thunderstorm. The clerks stuck their pens behind their ears, and stared after him from the windows. 20 Away went Tom Walker, dashing down the streets ; his white cap bobbing up and down ; his morning- gown fluttering in the wind, and his steed striking fire out of the pavement at every bound. When the clerks turned to look for the black man he had disappeared. 25 Tom Walker never returned to foreclose the mort- gage. A countryman who lived on the border of the swamp reported that in the height of the thundergust he had heard a great clattering of hoofs and a howling along the road, and running to the window caught 30 sight of a figure, such as I have described, on a horse that galloped like mad across the fields, over the hills, I20 TALES OF A TRAVELER and down into the black hemlock swamp towards the old Indian fort ; and that shortly after a thunderbolt falling in that direction seemed to set the whole forest in a blaze. 5 The good people of Boston shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, but had been so much accus- tomed to witches, and goblins, and tricks of the devil, in all kinds of shapes, from the first settlement of the colony, that they were not so much horror-struck as 10 might have been expected. Trustees were appointed to take charge of Tom's effects. There was nothing, however, to administer upon. On searching his coffers all his bonds and mortgages were found reduced to cinders. In place of gold and silver his iron chest was 15 filled with chips and shavings ; two skeletons lay in his stable instead of his half-starved horses, and the very next day his great house took fire and was burnt to the ground. Such was the end of Tom Walker and his ill-gotten 20 wealth. Let all griping money-brokers lay this story to heart. The truth of it is not to be doubted. The very hole under the oak-trees, whence he dug Kidd's money, is to be seen to this day ; and the neighboring swamp and old Indian fort are often haunted in stormy 25 nights by a figure on horseback, in morning-gown and white cap, which is doubtless the troubled spirit of the usurer. In fact, the story has resolved itself into a proverb, and is the origin of that popular saying, so prevalent throughout New England of " The Devil and 30 Tom Walker." 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