[This is, in its way, a clever book with a very un-clever title. We
expected better tact in its author, Mr. Inglis, than the adoption of the
title of one of the most successful and least imitable fictions of
modern times. The very title-page provokes a comparison between the Gil
Blas of Le Sage, and a string of romantic adventures, by Mr. Inglis; we
need not add, much to the disadvantage of the latter. It reminds us of
an attempt to cover the sun with a wet blanket. At the same time, the
merit of Mr. Inglis's Gil Blas must not be lowly rated. It abounds with
lively incident, pleasant bits and scenes of travel, and world-knowledge
very agreeably communicated, while its episodal narratives are of the
most wonder-fraught character. It has all the glitter and gaiety of
Spanish life and manners. The author discourses eloquently of "the
charming Andaluz," and other _intriguantes_--absolute Dons of fathers
and monsters of husbands--mingling "bloody-minded assassins," and
hideous wretches, with the sweet emotions of dark eyes, jetty ringlets,
and heaving bosoms. Limbs are lopped off, eyes put out, heads slivered,
and blood spilled like water; and there are scenes in dark towers and
visions of clanking chains in terrific abundance. One of the latter
description we have abridged and adapted to our pages. The hero is
convicted of murder, upon such evidence as this:--"We found the poor
dead man dead at his feet, and the sword in his hand, covered with
blood,--the murdered man lies in the ante-room run through and through."
A pretty scene of justice ensues, the fact being that the murdered man
was a noted robber who had attacked the hero, and became worsted in the
affray. The sentence is solitary imprisonment for life:]
The unfortunate persons whose crimes have subjected them to the dreadful
punishment of solitary imprisonment for life, in any of the southern
parts of Spain, are most generally sent to Tarifa.[3] Along both sides
of the port, there is a mole nearly half a mile in length; at the
extremity of which on either side, and at the entrance of the harbour,
stands a huge and ancient Moorish tower, about a hundred and sixty feet
in height above the sea. In this tower, which contains six chambers,
one above another, prisoners for life are confined; and thither I was
accordingly conveyed. It is the policy of the Spanish laws, to render
the punishment of criminals subservient to public utility; and this is
in some degree effected even by solitary confinement. The prisoners
confined in these towers are employed in turns, night by night, in
trimming the lamps--which are a beacon to the vessels at sea. From each
chamber, there is a separate ascent to the summit of the tower; so that
the prisoners never see each other, and each in his turn is obliged to
remain from night until day-break upon the summit,--part of his
punishment for the destruction of human life, being thus made
subservient to its preservation.
[3] A town in the straits of Gibraltar, the most southern point of
the continent of Europe.
From these towers there are no visible means of escape: in the chambers,
the windows are merely circular holes in walls at least six feet in
thickness; and the outside walls being entirely smooth, there are no means
of descent from the summit unless by a fearful leap of a hundred and sixty
feet into the sea; for on the side towards the town, a wall of twenty
feet high shuts out the prospect of land; serving at the same time as a
hindrance to any communication, and as an aggravation of punishment, by
shutting out from the eye of the prisoner, the cheerful lights of human
habitations, or perhaps even, it might be, the dim view of human forms. It
only requires to be added to this description, that a ponderous iron chain
stretches from one tower to the other, across the mouth of the port,
depending from fastenings situated about two feet below the summit of each,
but forming a curve by its own weight; and in the centre, reaching to
within twenty or thirty feet of the surface of the water, from which point,
other chains are attached, reaching horizontally to the towers on either
side. It is needless to say, that during the day this great chain is
lowered into the water when vessels desire to enter; but at night, it is
again raised; and there being rumours of war at this period, no ships were
admitted during the night,--the chain being a security against an enemy
entering, and cutting out vessels under favour of the darkness.
[By aid of a telescope, he recognises on the opposite tower a fair
prisoner, "the lovely Isabel," who had been confined there upwards of a
year for conspiring to murder her first husband. The hero by aid of the
chain, swings to Isabel's tower, where they concert an escape.]
As Isabel pressed closer to me, I felt, that, although far from agreeable
to sojourn in such a place, even with Isabel, this would yet be greatly
preferable to solitude. But to such a project, many serious difficulties
presented themselves: I represented to Isabel, that if I did not reach the
opposite tower that night, it would be discovered, when the food put into
my cell remained untasted, that I was gone; and as the conclusion would
necessarily be, that I had leaped into the sea, no more food would be put
into my cell, and consequently, when I did return, I should die of hunger.
"But," said Isabel, "why return ever? Providence seems to delight in
throwing us together,--and if, as unhappily seems too true, the doom of
both of us be to live and die in these towers, why should we not----"
"Live and die together, you would say;" and, in truth, there was reason
in this proposal of Isabel. "Why, indeed, should we not?" said I; but in
yielding so readily to this suggestion, I looked farther than Isabel did.
Isabel had doubtless many charms,--and here, I should at least have nothing
to fear from rivals; but that which weighed with me fully as much as the
prospect of a honey-moon, was this,--that a man who is supposed to be dead,
has greater facilities of escape,--and so, without at that time saying any
thing upon this subject to Isabel, I acquiesced in the proposal of changing
my quarters, and being her guest for the present.
"There cannot be a doubt," said Isabel, "that the Pope has long ago been
applied to by my husband to dissolve our marriage."
"And that his holiness has granted the petition, too," said I. "And
although ours be a new case, as it probably never happened before that the
idea of marrying was entertained by persons in solitary imprisonment,--yet
as there is here neither church nor priest, Heaven will, without doubt,
accept our vows, and bless us:" and thus did I become all but the husband
of Isabel.
Several days elapsed before it was again the turn of Isabel to watch on
the summit; meantime the food that was intended for one, was made to
suffice for two; we conversed in whispers, lest my embryo plan of escape
should be frustrated by a premature discovery of my dwelling place;
and even if I had looked to no ulterior advantages, from my change of
quarters, the society of Isabel would have been a sufficient reward for
the peril of my journey. But I had now concocted in my mind, a plan
of escape, which I hastened to put in execution, after having first
communicated it to Isabel, whose co-operation was necessary to ensure
its success.
It may have been already gathered, that the characteristic of the
punishment of solitary confinement in the towers of Tarifa, consisted in
the rigidness with which it was enforced: once admitted there, and no
human eye ever more rested upon the living form of the prisoner. The food
necessary for the preservation of life, and therefore, for the continuance
of punishment, was placed, and removed, by unseen hands; nor was the sound
of a human voice ever heard within these stone chambers. But to this, one
exception was provided: although it was the policy of the law, to punish
the living culprit thus severely, the church did not resign her claims to
the care of his soul; once accordingly, in every month, a holy tread was
heard along the secret passages, and an iron screen being thrown hack, the
confessor, a Franciscan friar, took his seat at a thick grating; behind
which nothing could be seen, though the confession of the prisoner might
pass to the ear of the holy man, and his counsel in return reach the ear,
or it might be, the heart, of the solitary criminal. The door by which the
prisoner first entered was never unbarred, until the hour when his coffin
was carried in and out.
The day now approached, when the visit of the confessor might be
expected, and I laid my plans accordingly, and executed them in the
following manner:
"Isabel," said I, as the slow tread announced the approach of the
confessor, "you must feign to be dead; spread the pallet opposite to the
grating, and lay yourself upon it."
I found some difficulty in prevailing upon Isabel to mock the king of
terrors; but, at length, I succeeded in persuading her,--by representing
that it was easier to counterfeit death than to meet it; and that to do
the one afforded the only chance of avoiding the other; and scarcely was
Isabel extended upon the floor, when the screen was heard to open upon
its harsh hinges, and the confessor to say, "erring daughter, approach."
"Father," said I, in a low sepulchral tone, at the same time advancing
noiselessly towards the grating.
"Holy St. Francis," said the confessor, in a voice of terror, and making
at the same time a retrograde movement from the grating, "'tis a man!"
"Father," said I, in the same unearthly tone, "fear nothing, it is no
man that addresses thee; well thou knowest that no fleshly form can
gain entrance here; it is not a man, but a spirit, with whom thou art
communing." As I spoke thus, I could hear the Friar rapidly commending
himself to the protection of the Holy Mother of God, and of all the
Saints; and I continued, "She whom thou camest to confess, is now beyond
the reach of thy counsel: her soul has gone to its heavy account, and
her body lieth there;" said I, gliding aside, and knowing well, that
although nothing could be seen from the cell through the grating, yet
all within was visible from the other side. "I am the ghost of the
murdered José Andrades;" (the husband of Isabel) and at the same time
that I made this announcement, I threw back a part of the hood that
covered my face, and the dim light from the circular hole falling upon
the upper part of the countenance, showed a visage which fasting and
confinement had already made more like the face of a dead than of
a living man, and which I had taken care to besmear with blood.
A new exclamation of horror, and still more rapid prayers, followed this
revelation.
"Here," continued I, again drawing the hood over my face, and
approaching the grate--from which I could hear the Friar retreating;
"here will I remain, in dread communion with the body of my murderer,
until it be taken hence; delay not to let this be done, else I will
speak with thee nearer anon."
The Friar being already as near to the ghost of a murdered man as he
probably desired to be, and willing to prevent the execution of this
threat of a nearer colloquy, swung the screen forward, which closed with
a tremendous clank, and the rapid footsteps of the terrified confessor
speedily died away.
"Ah, Dios!" said Isabel, "I had scarcely courage to go through my part:
when you spoke of my soul having gone to its account, I was on the point
of rising, to convince myself that I was yet living."
"Surely," returned I, "you may find courage to personate a dead woman,
when I have no hesitation in personating the ghost of a murdered man;
the stratagem succeeds; you will have but once more to play your part;
and I am much mistaken if we be not both outside of this tower before
another day shall pass over our heads;" and animated by this hope,
Isabel promised to obey my directions.
Now, it will easily be believed, that the confessor, upon leaving
the tower, would immediately communicate to the civil and spiritual
authorities, the particulars of the extraordinary interview that had
taken place; and that although doubts might at first be entertained of
the sanity of the narrator, yet, that his positive asseverations would
at length so far weigh with the alcalde, and the bishop of Ronda, who
then chanced to be making his yearly visitation to Tarifa, as to induce
them to judge with their own eyes, of the truth of what had been told to
them. I was prepared for this; and when in less than three hours, the
iron screen was heard to fall back, Isabel was again stretched upon the
ground, while I stood motionless by her side. Who were the persons that
peered through the grate, I am unable to tell, but whoever they might
be, they were quickly satisfied with their scrutiny; for when I glided
towards the grate, at the same time allowing the hood to fall partially
back, the screen was suddenly closed, and quick retiring footsteps
announced the further success of the stratagem.
However extraordinary the thing might seem, and however hard of belief,
no doubt could any longer rest upon the minds of those whom first duty,
and then incredulity, had led to the tower, that something supernatural
inhabited the chamber where lay the dead Isabel. Her, they had seen
extended on the floor; and they had seen another being, which could not be
a mortal, because well they were convinced no mortal could gain entrance
there. That it was the ghost of him who had been murdered by the inmate
of the cell, no one could doubt: and the sooner therefore the body of the
wretched prisoner could be carried out, the sooner would this spirit cease
to haunt the tower of Tarifa. It was in this manner therefore, that the
affair was argued by the confessor, the bishop, and the alcalde, among
whom the following colloquy took place:
"I suppose, gentlemen," said the confessor, "you are now sufficiently
convinced that I have told you no tale."
"Sufficiently convinced," said the alcalde; yet breathless with fear.
"There is no doubt of it," said the bishop; panting from the rapidity of
his descent from the tower.
"Why," rejoined the confessor, "I was as near to it as I am to you!"
shuffling up close to the alcalde's nose.
"Ah, Dios!" said the alcalde, drawing involuntarily back.
"'Tis certainly," said the bishop, "a stain upon the sanctity of this
catholic town, that a thing of this kind should have taken place; the
quieter the affair is kept, the better: no doubt, senor alcalde, a coffin
can he prepared to-night, to carry away the body; those who carry it, must
know nothing of what we have seen; and you, as chief magistrate, will
superintend the removal."
"Truly," said the alcalde, "'tis a duty I would rather avoid: I am a poor
sinful man, ill fitted to grapple with the powers of darkness; whereas holy
men, like my lord bishop and the good friar, can have nothing to fear."
"I fear nothing," said the confessor.
"Oh, we fear nothing," said the bishop; "and it does seem to me, that
the reverend father cannot well be excused taking a part in this duty,
as he is in some sort under an engagement to the evil spirit (crossing
himself) to see it executed."
"But," rejoined the friar, "would it not he felt by us all to be a great
security, were we in this emergency to make use of the relics which are
deposited in the church of San Salvador,--and which no one, save the
bishop, is worthy to handle?"
"'Tis an excellent suggestion," said the alcalde.
Now the bishop, desirous no doubt of paying a compliment to the alcalde
and the friar by intrusting these sacred relics to their care, in place
of taking upon himself the honourable office of being their bearer,
said:--"The relics are indeed efficacious in cases of this nature; and
while handling them, the greatest sinner upon earth has nothing to fear
from an interview with any spirit. I possess the power of delegating to
whom I will, the high honour of bearing these relics,--and into your hands,
gentlemen, I will jointly commit them; and while you are engaged in the
performance of your duty, I will invoke for you the protection of our
tutelary saint."
Such, I say, was the colloquy that took place between the bishop, the
alcalde, and the friar,--and when this proposal was made by the bishop,
there can be no question that the fears of the alcalde were greatly
allayed; and that the qualms even of the friar were in some degree
quieted--so great was the confidence placed in the virtues of the relics.
Meanwhile, the hours passed away, and night came. I entertained little
doubt, that this very night the coffin would be sent for Isabel; trusting
to the efficacy of the threat held out to the confessor; and I prepared
accordingly. "You will have nothing to do, Isabel," said I, "but to follow
close at my heels." In thus providing for the escape of Isabel, I confess
it was chiefly a regard for my own safety that prompted me to this. A
sojourn of between one and two weeks in the tower, upon half the miserable
pittance of a prisoner, had greatly cooled the fever of my love; and I
foresaw that a companion would, in no small degree, interfere with my
projects of independence, and might even perhaps lessen the chances of
my ultimate escape,--but then, if Isabel were left behind, or could be
prevailed upon to allow herself to be put into her coffin, it was too much
to expect of her, that she would permit it to be consigned to the earth
without giving some audible demonstration of being alive; and if one part
of the trick were detected, threats or punishment would soon discover all
the other parts of it; and my recapture would no doubt be the consequence.
Besides--for why should I conceal the virtuous movements of my mind--I felt
a repugnance in leaving Isabel to perpetual imprisonment, or to the chance
of being buried alive; but feeling at the same time, that if successful in
delivering her from confinement, I should in that case have sufficiently
acquitted myself of obligations, and satisfied my scruples, I resolved that
upon the first favourable opportunity I would dispose of Isabel, and
recover my independence.
And now, the crisis was at hand. Slow, heavy steps, as of persons
carrying a burden, were heard approaching: other, and more hesitating
steps, mingled with these. At length they reached the massive iron door,
and the burden was put down. The thickness of the door was too great, to
permit the words spoken without to be heard within; but for some time
the monotonous sound of a voice continued--doubtless, a prayer of length
and efficacy by the Franciscan. The voice ceased; the chains and bolts
were one by one withdrawn; the door slowly swung back, and a glare of
flambeaux flashed into the cell. Isabel lay on the pallet, while I stood
motionless in the middle of the floor--my face turned towards the door,
and my hood partly thrown back. No sooner did the light reveal my
figure, than the coffin-bearers, uttering an affrighted scream, made but
one step from the top to the bottom of the staircase: for a moment the
alcalde and the friar, who partly expected what they saw, and who partly
trusted to the protection of the relics which they held in their hands,
stood their ground; crossing themselves with great rapidity, and
muttering prayers the while: but upon the first movement I made towards
them, they followed the coffin-bearers with so much precipitancy, that
in their eagerness which should be the first, both rolled down the
stairs, and the flambeaux falling from their trembling hands, were
extinguished.
"Now is the time," said I in a whisper; and I quickly descended the
staircase, followed by Isabel. By the light of a smothered flambeau,
I could perceive that the alcalde and the friar lay senseless, whether
from fear or from wounds, I could not tell. The friar's habit had
somehow slipped off his shoulders; and thinking it might be useful as a
disguise, I picked it up, and stumbling also upon one of the boxes of
relics, I hid it in my bosom: there was no obstacle to our escape--the
doors all stood open; and in a few moments we found ourselves outside of
the tower, while the retreating steps of the coffin-bearers were heard
dying away in the distance. We lost not a moment's time, but immediately
proceeded quickly along the mole, which we had all to ourselves; the
terrified coffin-bearers had no doubt spread the alarm, for as we
approached every post was in its turn abandoned; the alarmed sentinels
throwing down their weapons, and flying before us; and I took care not
to neglect the opportunity of arming myself against need, with a good
sabre.
* * * * *