Come and see' trust thine own eyes
A fearful sign stands in the house of life,
An enemy a fiend lurks close behind
The radiance of thy planet O be warned!
COLERIDGE, from SCHILLER
The belief in astrology was almost universal in the middle of the
seventeenth century; it began to waver and become doubtful towards the
close of that period, and in the beginning of the eighteenth the art
fell into general disrepute, and even under general ridicule. Yet it
still retained many partizans even in the seats of learning. Grave and
studious men were both to relinquish the calculations which had early
become the principal objects of their studies, and felt reluctant to
descend from the predominating height to which a supposed insight into
futurity, by the power of consulting abstract influences and
conjunctions, had exalted them over the rest of mankind.
Among those who cherished this imaginary privilege with undoubting
faith was an old clergyman with whom Mannering was placed during his
youth. He wasted his eyes in observing the stars, and his brains in
calculations upon their various combinations. His pupil, in early
youth, naturally caught some portion of his enthusiasm, and laboured
for a time to make himself master of the technical process of
astrological research; so that, before he became convinced of its
absurdity, William Lilly himself would have allowed him 'a curious
fancy and piercing judgment in resolving a question of nativity.'
On the present occasion he arose as early in the morning as the
shortness of the day permitted, and proceeded to calculate the nativity
of the young heir of Ellangowan. He undertook the task secundum artem,
as well to keep up appearances as from a sort of curiosity to know
whether he yet remembered, and could practise, the imaginary science.
He accordingly erected his scheme, or figure of heaven, divided into
its twelve houses, placed the planets therein according to the
ephemeris, and rectified their position to the hour and moment of the
nativity. Without troubling our readers with the general
prognostications which judicial astrology would have inferred from
these circumstances, in this diagram there was one significator which
pressed remarkably upon our astrologer's attention. Mars, having
dignity in the cusp of the twelfth house, threatened captivity or
sudden and violent death to the native; and Mannering, having recourse
to those further rules by which diviners pretend to ascertain the
vehemency of this evil direction, observed from the result that three
periods would be particularly hazardous--his fifth, his tenth, his
twenty-first year.
It was somewhat remarkable that Mannering had once before tried a
similar piece of foolery at the instance of Sophia Wellwood, the young
lady to whom he was attached, and that a similar conjunction of
planetary influence threatened her with death or imprisonment in her
thirty-ninth year. She was at this time eighteen; so that, according to
the result of the scheme in both cases, the same year threatened her
with the same misfortune that was presaged to the native or infant whom
that night had introduced into the world. Struck with this coincidence,
Mannering repeated his calculations; and the result approximated the
events predicted, until at length the same month, and day of the month,
seemed assigned as the period of peril to both.
It will be readily believed that, in mentioning this circumstance, we
lay no weight whatever upon the pretended information thus conveyed.
But it often happens, such is our natural love for the marvellous, that
we willingly contribute our own efforts to beguile our better
judgments. Whether the coincidence which I have mentioned was really
one of those singular chances which sometimes happen against all
ordinary calculations; or whether Mannering, bewildered amid the
arithmetical labyrinth and technical jargon of astrology, had
insensibly twice followed the same clue to guide him out of the maze;
or whether his imagination, seduced by some point of apparent
resemblance, lent its aid to make the similitude between the two
operations more exactly accurate than it might otherwise have been, it
is impossible to guess; but the impression upon his mind that the
results exactly corresponded was vividly and indelibly strong.
He could not help feeling surprise at a coincidence so singular and
unexpected. 'Does the devil mingle in the dance, to avenge himself for
our trifling with an art said to be of magical origin? Or is it
possible, as Bacon and Sir Thomas Browne admit, that there is some
truth in a sober and regulated astrology, and that the influence of the
stars is not to be denied, though the due application of it by the
knaves who pretend to practise the art is greatly to be suspected?' A
moment's consideration of the subject induced him to dismiss this
opinion as fantastical, and only sanctioned by those learned men either
because they durst not at once shock the universal prejudices of their
age, or because they themselves were not altogether freed from the
contagious influence of a prevailing superstition. Yet the result of
his calculations in these two instances left so unpleasing an
impression on his mind that, like Prospero, he mentally relinquished
his art, and resolved, neither in jest nor earnest, ever again to
practise judicial astrology.
He hesitated a good deal what he should say to the Laird of Ellangowan
concerning the horoscope of his first-born; and at length resolved
plainly to tell him the judgment which he had formed, at the same time
acquainting him with the futility of the rules of art on which he had
proceeded. With this resolution he walked out upon the terrace.
If the view of the scene around Ellangowan had been pleasing by
moonlight, it lost none of its beauty by the light of the morning sun.
The land, even in the month of November, smiled under its influence. A
steep but regular ascent led from the terrace to the neighbouring
eminence, and conducted Mannering to the front of the old castle. It
consisted of two massive round towers projecting deeply and darkly at
the extreme angles of a curtain, or flat wall, which united them, and
thus protecting the main entrance, that opened through a lofty arch in
the centre of the curtain into the inner court of the castle. The arms
of the family, carved in freestone, frowned over the gateway, and the
portal showed the spaces arranged by the architect for lowering the
portcullis and raising the drawbridge. A rude farm-gate, made of young
fir-trees nailed together, now formed the only safeguard of this once
formidable entrance. The esplanade in front of the castle commanded a
noble prospect.
The dreary scene of desolation through which Mannering's road had lain
on the preceding evening was excluded from the view by some rising
ground, and the landscape showed a pleasing alternation of hill and
dale, intersected by a river, which was in some places visible, and
hidden in others, where it rolled betwixt deep and wooded banks. The
spire of a church and the appearance of some houses indicated the
situation of a village at the place where the stream had its junction
with the ocean. The vales seemed well cultivated, the little inclosures
into which they were divided skirting the bottom of the hills, and
sometimes carrying their lines of straggling hedgerows a little way up
the ascent. Above these were green pastures, tenanted chiefly by herds
of black cattle, then the staple commodity of the country, whose
distant low gave no unpleasing animation to the landscape. The remoter
hills were of a sterner character, and, at still greater distance,
swelled into mountains of dark heath, bordering the horizon with a
screen which gave a defined and limited boundary to the cultivated
country, and added at the same time the pleasing idea that it was
sequestered and solitary. The sea-coast, which Mannering now saw in its
extent, corresponded in variety and beauty with the inland view. In
some places it rose into tall rocks, frequently crowned with the ruins
of old buildings, towers, or beacons, which, according to tradition,
were placed within sight of each other, that, in times of invasion or
civil war, they might communicate by signal for mutual defence and
protection. Ellangowan Castle was by far the most extensive and
important of these ruins, and asserted from size and situation the
superiority which its founders were said once to have possessed among
the chiefs and nobles of the district. In other places the shore was of
a more gentle description, indented with small bays, where the land
sloped smoothly down, or sent into the sea promontories covered with
wood.
A scene so different from what last night's journey had presaged
produced a proportional effect upon Mannering. Beneath his eye lay the
modern house--an awkward mansion, indeed, in point of architecture, but
well situated, and with a warm, pleasant exposure. 'How happily,'
thought our hero, 'would life glide on in such a retirement! On the one
hand, the striking remnants of ancient grandeur, with the secret
consciousness of family pride which they inspire; on the other, enough
of modern elegance and comfort to satisfy every moderate wish. Here
then, and with thee, Sophia!'
We shall not pursue a lover's day-dream any farther. Mannering stood a
minute with his arms folded, and then turned to the ruined castle.
On entering the gateway, he found that the rude magnificence of the
inner court amply corresponded with the grandeur of the exterior. On
the one side ran a range of windows lofty and large, divided by carved
mullions of stone, which had once lighted the great hall of the castle;
on the other were various buildings of different heights and dates, yet
so united as to present to the eye a certain general effect of
uniformity of front. The doors and windows were ornamented with
projections exhibiting rude specimens of sculpture and tracery, partly
entire and partly broken down, partly covered by ivy and trailing
plants, which grew luxuriantly among the ruins. That end of the court
which faced the entrance had also been formerly closed by a range of
buildings; but owing, it was said, to its having been battered by the
ships of the Parliament under Deane, during the long civil war, this
part of the castle was much more ruinous than the rest, and exhibited a
great chasm, through which Mannering could observe the sea, and the
little vessel (an armed lugger), which retained her station in the
centre of the bay. [Footnote: The outline of the above description, as
far as the supposed ruins are concerned, will be found somewhat to
resemble the noble remains of Carlaverock Castle, six or seven miles
from Dumfries, and near to Lochar Moss.] While Mannering was gazing
round the ruins, he heard from the interior of an apartment on the left
hand the voice of the gipsy he had seen on the preceding evening. He
soon found an aperture through which he could observe her without being
himself visible; and could not help feeling that her figure, her
employment, and her situation conveyed the exact impression of an
ancient sibyl.
She sate upon a broken corner-stone in the angle of a paved apartment,
part of which she had swept clean to afford a smooth space for the
evolutions of her spindle. A strong sunbeam through a lofty and narrow
window fell upon her wild dress and features, and afforded her light
for her occupation; the rest of the apartment was very gloomy. Equipt
in a habit which mingled the national dress of the Scottish common
people with something of an Eastern costume, she spun a thread drawn
from wool of three different colours, black, white, and grey, by
assistance of those ancient implements of housewifery now almost
banished from the land, the distaff and spindle. As she spun, she sung
what seemed to be a charm. Mannering, after in vain attempting to make
himself master of the exact words of her song, afterwards attempted the
following paraphrase of what, from a few intelligible phrases, he
concluded to be its purport:--
Twist ye, twine ye! even so
Mingle shades of joy and woe,
Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife,
In the thread of human life.
While the mystic twist is spinning,
And the infant's life beginning,
Dimly seen through twilight bending,
Lo, what varied shapes attending!
Passions wild, and Follies vain,
Pleasures soon exchanged for pain,
Doubt, and Jealousy, and Fear
In the magic dance appear.
Now they wax, and now they dwindle,
Whirling with the whirling spindle.
Twist ye, twine ye! even so
Mingle human bliss and woe.
Ere our translator, or rather our free imitator, had arranged these
stanzas in his head, and while he was yet hammering out a rhyme for
DWINDLE, the task of the sibyl was accomplished, or her wool was
expended. She took the spindle, now charged with her labours, and,
undoing the thread gradually, measured it by casting it over her elbow
and bringing each loop round between her forefinger and thumb. When she
had measured it out, she muttered to herself--'A hank, but not a haill
ane--the full years o' three score and ten, but thrice broken, and
thrice to OOP (i.e. to unite); he'll be a lucky lad an he win through
wi't.'
Our hero was about to speak to the prophetess, when a voice, hoarse as
the waves with which it mingled, hallooed twice, and with increasing
impatience--'Meg, Meg Merrilies! Gipsy--hag--tausend deyvils!'
'I am coming, I am coming, Captain,' answered Meg; and in a moment or
two the impatient commander whom she addressed made his appearance from
the broken part of the ruins.
He was apparently a seafaring man, rather under the middle size, and
with a countenance bronzed by a thousand conflicts with the north-east
wind. His frame was prodigiously muscular, strong, and thick-set; so
that it seemed as if a man of much greater height would have been an
inadequate match in any close personal conflict. He was hard-favoured,
and, which was worse, his face bore nothing of the insouciance, the
careless, frolicsome jollity and vacant curiosity, of a sailor on
shore. These qualities, perhaps, as much as any others, contribute to
the high popularity of our seamen, and the general good inclination
which our society expresses towards them. Their gallantry, courage, and
hardihood are qualities which excite reverence, and perhaps rather
humble pacific landsmen in their presence; and neither respect nor a
sense of humiliation are feelings easily combined with a familiar
fondness towards those who inspire them. But the boyish frolics, the
exulting high spirits, the unreflecting mirth of a sailor when enjoying
himself on shore, temper the more formidable points of his character.
There was nothing like these in this man's face; on the contrary, a
surly and even savage scowl appeared to darken features which would
have been harsh and unpleasant under any expression or modification.
'Where are you, Mother Deyvilson?' he said, with somewhat of a foreign
accent, though speaking perfectly good English. 'Donner and blitzen! we
have been staying this half-hour. Come, bless the good ship and the
voyage, and be cursed to ye for a hag of Satan!'
At this moment he noticed Mannering, who, from the position which he
had taken to watch Meg Merrilies's incantations, had the appearance of
some one who was concealing himself, being half hidden by the buttress
behind which he stood. The Captain, for such he styled himself, made a
sudden and startled pause, and thrust his right hand into his bosom
between his jacket and waistcoat as if to draw some weapon. 'What
cheer, brother? you seem on the outlook, eh?' Ere Mannering, somewhat
struck by the man's gesture and insolent tone of voice, had made any
answer, the gipsy emerged from her vault and joined the stranger. He
questioned her in an undertone, looking at Mannering--'A shark
alongside, eh?'
She answered in the same tone of under-dialogue, using the cant
language of her tribe--'Cut ben whids, and stow them; a gentry cove of
the ken.' [Footnote: Meaning--Stop your uncivil language; that is a
gentleman from the house below.]
The fellow's cloudy visage cleared up. 'The top of the morning to you,
sir; I find you are a visitor of my friend Mr. Bertram. I beg pardon,
but I took you for another sort of a person.'
Mannering replied, 'And you, sir, I presume, are the master of that
vessel in the bay?'
'Ay, ay, sir; I am Captain Dirk Hatteraick, of the Yungfrauw
Hagenslaapen, well known on this coast; I am not ashamed of my name,
nor of my vessel--no, nor of my cargo neither for that matter.'
'I daresay you have no reason, sir.'
'Tausend donner, no; I'm all in the way of fair trade. Just loaded
yonder at Douglas, in the Isle of Man--neat cogniac--real hyson and
souchong--Mechlin lace, if you want any--right cogniac--we bumped
ashore a hundred kegs last night.'
'Really, sir, I am only a traveller, and have no sort of occasion for
anything of the kind at present.'
'Why, then, good-morning to you, for business must be minded--unless
ye'll go aboard and take schnaps; you shall have a pouch-full of tea
ashore. Dirk Hatteraick knows how to be civil.'
There was a mixture of impudence, hardihood, and suspicious fear about
this man which was inexpressibly disgusting. His manners were those of
a ruffian, conscious of the suspicion attending his character, yet
aiming to bear it down by the affectation of a careless and hardy
familiarity. Mannering briefly rejected his proffered civilities; and,
after a surly good-morning, Hatteraick retired with the gipsy to that
part of the ruins from which he had first made his appearance. A very
narrow staircase here went down to the beach, intended probably for the
convenience of the garrison during a siege. By this stair the couple,
equally amiable in appearance and respectable by profession, descended
to the sea-side. The soi-disant captain embarked in a small boat with
two men, who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on the
shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulating with great vehemence.