There remains
A rugged trunk, dismember'd and unsightly,
Waiting the bursting of the final bolt
To splinter it to shivers.
THE DOOM OF DEVORGOIL.
The shore of the Chesapeake between Cape St. Michael--as the northern
headland at the mouth of Potomac was denominated by the early
settlers--and the Patuxent, is generally flat, and distinguished by a
clear pebbly beach or strand. The shore, comprising about twenty miles,
is intersected by a single creek, that of St. Jerome, which enters the
bay some five or six miles north of the Potomac. The line of beach,
which I have referred to, is here and there relieved by small
elevations which in any other region would scarce deserve the name, but
which are sufficiently prominent in this locality to attract remark.
From the general level of the country they rise high enough to afford a
clear prospect over the wide waters, and no less to distinguish the
landward perspective to the mariner whose eye eagerly seeks the
varieties of landscape as he holds his course up the bay. At a few
points these small hills terminate immediately upon the tide in the
abrupt form of a cliff, and, at others, take the shape of a knoll
sinking away by a rapid, but grass-covered, declivity to the strand.
This latter feature is observable in the vicinity of St. Jerome's,
where the slope falls somewhat abruptly to the level of the tide,
leaving something above fifty paces in width of low ground between its
base and the ordinary water-mark. It was upon this flat that, in
ancient times, stood the dwelling house of Paul Kelpy the fisherman--a
long, low building of deal boards, constructed somewhat in the shape of
a warehouse or magazine. Some quarter of a mile along the beach, so
sheltered under the brow of the slope as scarcely to be seen amongst
the natural shrubbery that shaded it, stood a cottage or hut of very
humble pretensions. It was so low that a man of ordinary height, while
standing at the door, might lay his hand upon the eaves of the roof,
and correspondent to its elevation, it was so scanty in space as to
afford but two apartments, of which the largest was not above ten feet
square. It was strongly built of hewn logs, and the door, strengthened
by nails thickly studded over its surface, was further fortified by a
heavy padlock, which rendered it sufficiently impregnable against a
sharper assault than might be counted on from such as ordinarily should
find motive to molest the proprietor of such a dwelling.
A small enclosure surrounded the hut and furnished ground for some
common garden plants which were not neglected in their culture. A few
acres, on the higher plain above the bank, exhibited signs of
husbandry; and the small nets and other fishing tackle disposed about
the curtilage, together with a skiff drawn up on the sand, gave
evidence of the ostensible thrift by which the occupant of the hut
obtained a livelihood.
To this spot I propose to introduce my reader, the day preceding that
at which my story has been opened. It was about an hour before sunset,
and a light drizzling rain, with a steady wind from the north-east,
infused a chilly gloom into the air, and heightened the tone of
solitude which prevailed over the scene. A thin curl of smoke which
rose from the clumsy chimney of the hut gave a sign of habitation to
the premises, and this was further confirmed by the presence of a large
and cross-visaged mastiff-bitch, whose heavy head might be discerned
thrust forth from beneath the sill of the gable,--a sullen warder of
this sullen place of strength. The waves, now propelled upon a flood
tide, rolled in upon the shore, and broke almost at the door of the
hut, with a hoarse and harsh and ceaseless plash. Far out over the bay,
the white caps of the wind-driven surge floated like changing snow
drifts upon the surface of the waters. The water fowl rose in squadrons
above this murky waste and struggled to windward, in a flight so low as
frequently to shield them from the sight in the spray. An old bald
eagle perched on the loftiest branch of a lightning-riven tree,
immediately upon the bank above the hut, kept anxious watch upon her
nest which, built in the highest fork, rocked to and fro in the breeze,
whilst her screams of warning to her young seemed to answer to the din
of the waters.
In the larger apartment of the hut a few fagots blazed upon the hearth,
supplying heat to a pot that simmered above them, the care of which,
together with other culinary operations, engaged the attention of a
brown, haggard and weather-beaten woman, who plied this household duty
with a silent and mechanical thrift. She was not the only tenant of the
dwelling. Remote from the hearth, and immediately below a small window,
sat, apparently upon the floor, a figure eminently calculated to
challenge observation. His features were those of a man of seventy,
sharp, shrewd and imprinted with a deep trace of care. His frame
indicated the possession, at an earlier period of his life, of the
highest degree of strength; it was broad in the shoulders, ample in
chest, and still muscular, although deprived of its roundness by age.
His dress, of coarse green serge, made into a doublet with skirts that
fell both front and rear, secured by a leathern belt, was so contrived
as to conceal, in his present posture, his lower extremities. A broad
ruff received his locks of iron gray, which fell over his back in crisp
wiry curls: a thick grizzly beard, of the same hue, gave an elongation
to his countenance which imparted to the observer the unpleasant
impression of a head disproportionally large for the body, at least as
seen in its present aspect. His eyes dark and unusually clear, were
sunk deep in their sockets, whilst a shaggy and matted brow,
overhanging them like a porch, gave sometimes an almost preternatural
brilliancy to their quick and changeful glances--like the sparkling of
water when agitated in a well. It was observable from the dropping in
of the upper jaw that he had lost his teeth, and this perhaps had given
a tendency of the strong furrowed lines and seams, with which his
features were marked, to converge towards the mouth.
His girdle sustained a long knife or dagger, which apparently
constituted a part of his daily equipment; and the oblique flash of his
eye, and tremulous motion of his thin lip betrayed a temperament, from
which one might infer that this weapon of offence was not worn merely
as an ornament of the person.
The individual described in this summary was familiar to report,
throughout the province, as The Cripple. His true name was supposed to
be Robert Swale,--but this was almost lost in the pervading popular
designation of Rob of the Bowl, or Trencher Rob--an appellative which
he had borne ever since his arrival in the province, now some fifteen
years gone by. Of his history but little was known, and that little was
duly mystified, in the public repute, by the common tendency in the
vulgar mind to make the most of any circumstance of suspicion. The
story went that he had been shipwrecked, on a winter voyage, upon this
coast, and, after suffering incredible hardships, had saved his life
only at the expense of the loss of both legs by frost. In this maimed
condition he had reached the shore of the province, and some time
afterwards built the hut in which he now dwelt, near the mouth of St.
Jerome's. Here he had passed many years, without attracting other
notice than such as the stinted charity of the world affords, when it
is exercised upon the fate or fortunes of an obscure recluse. This
observation began to find a broader scope as soon as it became obvious
that the hermit was not altogether an object of almsgiving; and the
little world of this part of the province discovering in process of
time that he was not absolutely penniless, were fain to take offence at
the mystery of his means of earning his frugal subsistence. Before many
years, some few of the traders and country people round had found out
that Rob was occasionally possessed of good merchantable commodities
much in request by the inhabitants of the port, and dark whispers were
sometimes circulated touching the manner in which he came by them.
These surmises were not made topics of public discussion for two
reasons;--first, because it was not inconvenient or unprofitable to the
traders in the secret to deal with Rob;--and secondly, Rob was not a
man to allow this indulgence of idle speculation; he was of an
irascible temper, free to strike when crossed, and, what was still more
to be feared, had friends who were not unwilling to take up his
quarrel. The loss of his legs was supplied by a wooden bowl or
trencher, of an elliptical shape, to which his thighs were attached by
a strap, and this rude contrivance was swayed forward, when the owner
chose, by the aid of two short crutches, which enabled him to lift
himself from the ground and assume a progressive motion. It was to the
exercise which this mode of locomotion imposed upon his upper limbs,
that the unusual breadth and squareness of his figure about the
shoulders, as well as the visible manifestations of strength of arm for
which he was remarkable, were in part, perhaps, to be attributed. Use
had made him expert in the management of his bowl, and he could keep
pace pretty fairly with an ordinary walker. The Cripple was a man of
unsocial habits and ascetic life, although there were times in which
his severe temper relaxed into an approach to companionable enjoyment,
and then his intercourse with the few who had access to him was marked
by a sarcastic humour and keen ridicule of human action which showed
some grudge against the world, and, at the same time, denoted
conversancy with mankind, and by no means a deficiency of education.
But, in general, his vein was peevish, and apt to vent itself in
indiscriminate petulance or stern reproof.
A small painting of St. Romuald at his devotions, by the hand of
Salvator himself, hung over a dressing table, in the back room of the
hut in which the bed of the Cripple was placed; and this exquisite gem
of art, which the possessor seemed duly to appreciate, was surmounted
by a crucifix, indicating the religious faith in which he worshipped.
This might be gathered also from a curious, antique pix, of heavy
gilded metal, a ponderous missal with silver clasps, a few old volumes
of the lives of the saints, and other furniture of the like nature, all
of which denoted that the ingredient of a religious devotee formed an
element in his singular compound of character.
The superiority of his mind and attainments over those of the mass of
the inhabitants of the province had contributed to render the Cripple
an object of some interest as well as of distrust amongst them, and
this sentiment was heightened into one approaching to vulgar awe, by
the reputation of the person who had always been somewhat in his
confidence, and now attended him as his servitress and only domestic.
This person was the ungainly and repulsive beldam whom I have already
noticed as ministering in the household concerns of the hut. She was a
woman who had long maintained a most unenviable fame as The Woman of
Warrington, in the small hamlet of that name on the Cliffs of Patuxent,
from whence she had been recently transplanted to perform the domestic
drudgery in which we have found her. Her habitation was a rude hovel
some few hundred paces distant from the hut of the Cripple, on the
margin of St. Jerome's creek, and within gunshot of the rear of the
Black Chapel. To this hovel, after her daily work was done, she retired
to pass the night, leaving her master or patron to that solitude which
he seemed to prefer to any society. The surly mastiff-bitch, we have
noticed, alternately kept guard at the hut of the master and
domestic,--roving between the two in nightly patrol, with a gruff and
unsocial fidelity,--no unsuitable go-between to so strange a pair. It
will not be wondered at, that, in a superstitious age, such an
association as that of the Cripple and the crone, in the vicinity of
such a spot, desecrated, as the Fisherman's lodge had been, by the
acting of a horrible tragedy, should excite, far and wide amongst the
people, a sentiment of terror sufficiently potent to turn the steps of
the wayfarer, as the shades of evening fell around him, aside from the
path that led to St. Jerome's.
The Cripple, at the time when I have chosen to present him to my
reader, was seated, as I have said, immediately beneath the window. A
pair of spectacles assisted his vision as he perused a pacquet of
papers, several of which lay scattered around him. The dim light for a
while perplexed his labour, and he had directed the door to be thrown
wide open that he might take advantage of the last moment before the
approaching twilight should arrest his occupation. Whilst thus
employed, the deadened sound of a shot boomed across the bay.
"Ha!" he exclaimed as he threw aside the paper in his hand and directed
his eyes towards the water; "there is a signal--by my body, a signal
gun!--an ill bird is flying homeward. Did you not hear that shot,
woman?"
"I had my dream of the brigantine two nights ago," replied the
servitress; "and of the greedy kite that calls himself her master;--the
shot must be his."
"Whose can it be else?" demanded the Cripple sharply, as he swung
himself forward to the doorsill and shook his locks from his brow in
the act of straining his sight across the dim surface of the bay. "Ay,
ay; there it is. Hark--another shot!--that is the true pass word
between us:--Dickon, sure enough!--The brigantine is in the offing.
Cocklescraft is coming in with the speed of a gull. He comes full
freighted--full freighted, as is his wont, with the world's plunder.
What dole hath he done this flight?--what more wealthy knave than
himself hath he robbed? Mischief, mischief, mischief--good store of it,
I'll be sworn:--and a keener knave than himself he hath not found in
his wide venture. He will be coming ashore to visit the Cripple,
ha!--he shall be welcome--as he ever hath been. We are comrades,--we
are cronies, and merry in our divisions--the Skipper and the
Cripple!--there is concord in it--the Skipper and the Cripple--merry
men both!"
These uprisings of the inner thoughts of the man were uttered in
various tones--one moment scarce audible, the next with an emphatic
enunciation, as if addressed to his companion in the hut,--and
sometimes with the semblance of a laugh, or rather chuckle, which was
wormwood in its accent, and brought the rheum from his eye down his
cheek. The beldam, accustomed to this habit of self-communion in the
Cripple, apparently heeded not these mutterings, until he, at length,
accosted her with a command.--"Mistress Kate, double the contents of
your pot;--the skipper and some of his men will be here presently, as
keen and trenchant as their own cutlasses. They will be hungry,
woman,--as these saltwater monsters always are for earthy provender."
"Such sharp-set cattle should bring their provender with them," replied
the domestic, as she went about increasing her store of provision in
compliance with her master's directions.
"Or the good red gold, or the good red gold, old jade!" interrupted the
Cripple. "The skipper doth not shrink in the girdle from the disease of
a lean purse, and is therefore worthy of our worshipful entertainment.
So goes the world, and we will be in the fashion! Though the world's
malisons drive him hither as before a tempest, yet, comes he rich in
its gear; he shall have princely reception. I am king of this castle,
and ordain it. Is he taking in sail?--is he seeking an anchorage? Ha,
he understands his craft, and will be with us anon," he continued, as
he marked the movements of the approaching vessel.
There might be dimly seen, nearly abreast of St. Jerome's, a
close-reefed brig, holding her course before a fair wind directly
across the bay towards the hut of the Cripple. She was, at intervals,
lost to view behind the thickening haze, and as often re-appeared as
she bent under the fresh north-east breeze and bounded rapidly with the
waves towards the lee shore. It was after the hour of sunset when the
tenants of the hut were just able to discern, in the murky gloom of the
near nightfall, that she had lowered sail and swung round with her head
seaward, at an anchorage some two miles out in the bay.
"Quick, Mistress Kate, and kindle some brush-wood on the shore," said
the master of the hut. "It grows suddenly dark, and the boat's crew
will need a signal to steer by."
The woman gathered a handful of fagots, and, kindling them into a
blaze, transferred them to the beach in front of the hut, where,
notwithstanding the rain, they burned with a steady light. This
illumination had not subsided before the stroke of oars rose above the
din of the waves; and the boat with her crew, sheeted with the broad
glare of the signal-fire, suddenly appeared mounted on the surf,
surrounded with foam and spray, and in the same instant was heard
grating on the gravel of the beach.
Cocklescraft, with two seamen, entered the hut. The skipper was now in
the prime of youthful manhood; tall, active and strong, with the free
step and erect bearing that no less denoted the fearlessness of his
nature than pride in the consciousness of such a quality. His face,
tinged with a deep brown hue, was not unhandsome, although an
expression of sensuality, to some extent, deprived it of its claim to
be admired. A brilliant eye suffered the same disparagement by its
over-ready defiance, which told of a temper obtrusively prone to
quarrel. The whole physiognomy wanted gentleness, although a fine set
of teeth, a regular profile, and a complexion which, with proper
allowance for exposure to the weather, was uncommonly good, would
unquestionably have won from the majority of observers the repute of a
high degree of masculine beauty.
A scarlet jacket fitted close across the breast, wide breeches of
ash-coloured stuff, hanging in the fashion of a kirtle or kilt to the
knees, tight grey hose, accurately displaying the leg in all its fine
proportions, and light shoes, furnished a costume well adapted to the
lithe and sinewy figure of the wearer. A jet black and glossy
moustache, and tuft below the nether lip, gave a martial aspect to his
face, which had, nevertheless, the smoothness of skin of a boy. He wore
in his embroidered belt, a pair of pistols richly mounted with chased
silver and costly jewels, and his person was somewhat gorgeously and,
in his present occupation, inappropriately ornamented with gems and
chains of gold. His hair, in almost feminine luxuriance, descended in
ringlets upon his neck. A large hat made of the palm leaf, broad enough
to shade his face and shoulders, but ill sorted with the rest of his
apparel, and was still less adapted to the season and the latitude he
was in, though it threw into the general expression of his figure that
trait of the swaggering companion which was, in fact, somewhat
prominent in his character.
"How dost, friend Rob?" was his salutation in crossing the threshold;
"how dost, Rob o' the Bowl, or Rob o' the Trencher?--bowl or
trencher,--either likes me; I am sworn friend to both," he continued as
he stooped and took the Cripple's hand.
"Ay, thy conscience has never stayed thee," was the Cripple's reply, as
he received the skipper's grasp, "when thou wouldst put thy hand in
another man's bowl or trencher,--and especially, Dickon, if they were
made of gold. Thou hast an appetite for such dishes. How now! where do
you come from?"
"That shall be answered variously, friend of the wooden platter. If you
speak to me as Meinherr Von Cogglescraft, I am from Antwerp, master of
the Olive Branch, with a comfortable cargo of Hollands, and wines
French and Rhenish, old greybeard, and some solid articles of Dutch
bulk. But if it be to the Caballero Don Ricardo,--le beso las manos!--I
am from Tortuga and the Keys, Senor Capitan del Escalfador (there is
much virtue in a painted cloth) with a choice assortment of
knicknackeries, which shall set every wench in the province agog. I
have rare velvets of Genoa, piled and cut in the choicest fashions: I
have grograms, and stuffs, and sarsnets, with a whole inventory of
woman trumpery--the very pick of a Spanish bark, bound from Naples to
the islands, which was so foolish as to read my flag by its seeming,
and just to drop into the Chafing-Dish when he thought he was getting a
convoy to help him out of the way of the too pressing and inquisitive
courtesies of certain lurking friends of ours in the Keys. I have,
besides, some trinkets, which are none the worse for having been
blessed by the church. You shall have a choice, Rob, to deck out your
chamber with some saintly gems."
"Ha! I guessed thy deviltry, Dickon," said Rob, with a laugh which, as
always happened when much moved, brought tears down his cheeks--"I
guessed it when I saw thee step across the door-sill with that large
and suspicious sombrero on thy head. It never came from Holland--though
you would fain persuade the province folks that you trade no where
else: it is of the breed of the tropics, and smells of Hispaniola and
Santo Domingo."
"It is a tell-tale," replied Cocklescraft, "and should have been thrown
overboard before this. Old Kate of Warrington, thy hand--and here is a
hand for thee! How does the world use thee? Fairly, I hope, as you
deserve? You shall have the sombrero, Kate: you can truss it up into a
new fashion for a bonnet, and I have store of ribands to give thee to
set it off."
"My share of this world's favour," said the crone, in acknowledgment of
the skipper's bounty, "has never been more than the cast-off bravery of
such as hold a high head over a wicked heart. I have ever served at the
mess of the devil's bantlings. But, as the custom is, I must be civil
and thankful for these blessings; and so, Master Cocklescraft, I give
you thanks," she added with a courtesy, as she placed the hat upon her
head and strutted fantastically in the room, "for your dainty head-gear
that you are unwilling to wear, and durst not, master, before the Port
Wardens of St. Mary's."
"How, Kate!" exclaimed the skipper, "you have lost no whit of that
railing tongue I left with you at my last venture? I marvel that the
devil hath not shorn it, out of pure envy. But I know, Kate, you can do
justice to the good will of a friend, after all: I would have thee to
know that thou hast not been unconsidered, good mother of a thousand
devilkins: I have brought thee stuff for a new gown, rich and ladylike,
Kate, and becoming thy grave and matronly years, and sundry trickeries
for it, by way of garniture; and, reverend dam of night-monsters, I
have in store for thee some most choice distillations of the West
Indies, both plain and spiced. Thou dost not spurn the strong waters,
Kate of Warrington,--nor the giver of them?"
"This is a make-peace fashion of thine," said the beldam, relaxing into
a smile. "You thought not of the woman of Warrington--no, not so much
as a dog's dream of her--until it chanced to come into your head that
the foolish crone had a will which it might not be for your good to set
against you. I knew your incoming, Richard Cocklescraft, before it was
thought of in the province; and I know when your outgoing will be. You
come with a surly sky and a gay brow;--you shall trip it hence with a
bright heaven above you, and deftly, boy--but with a heavy heart and a
new crime upon thy soul."
"Peace, woman! I will hear none of thy croakings--it is an old trick of
thine; the device is too stale," said Cocklescraft, half playfully and
half vexed. "You are no conjuror, Kate, as you would make the world
believe by these owl-hootings: if you had but a needle's-eyeful of the
true witch in you, you would have foretold what bounty my luck has
brought you.--Rob, we have packages to land to-night. Is the Chapel
ready for our service?"
"How should it be other than ready? Doth not the devil keep his
quarters there?" said Rob with a low-toned chuckle that shook his
figure for some moments, and almost closed his eyes; "hath he not his
court in the Chapel? Go ask the whole country side: they will swear to
it on their bible oaths. Sundries have seen the hoofs and horns, and
heard the howlings,--ay, and smelt the brimstone--ha, ha, ha! They'll
swear to it. Is the Chapel ready, in sooth! It is a precious Chapel!
Paul Kelpy, thou wert an honest cut-throat, to bedevil so good a house:
we turn it to account--ha, ha! It needs but to take the key, Dickon. I
warrant you ne'er a man in the province, burgher or planter, gentle or
simple, ventures near enough to molest you."
"The surf runs high," said Cocklescraft, "and may give us trouble in
the landing to-night; and as daylight must not find me in this
latitude, I shall put what I may ashore before the dawn, and then take
a flight to the opposite side of the bay. To-morrow night I shall
finish my work; and you shall soon after hear, at St. Mary's, that the
good and peaceful brigantine, the Olive Branch, has arrived from
Holland. Meantime, I will leave you a half dozen men to garrison the
Chapel, Rob."
"It is so well garrisoned with my merry goblins already," said Rob,
"that it requires but a light watch. The fires alone would frighten his
Lordship's whole array of rangers. That was a pretty device of mine,
Dickon--blue, green, and red--excellent devil-fires all! Then I have
masks--faith, most special masks! the very noses of them would frighten
the short-winded train-bands of the Port into catalepsy. And the Chapel
had an ill name when the fisherman shed blood on the floor: but since
we blackened it, Richard--oh, that was a subtle thought!--it is past
all power of exorcism: there is an ague in the very name of the Black
Chapel." And here the Cripple gave way to a burst of laughter, which
had been struggling for vent during all this reference to the arts by
which he had contrived to maintain the popular dread of the fisherman's
lodge.
Whilst this conference was held, the crone had prepared their evening
meal, which being now ready, Rob was lifted upon a low platform that
brought him to the proper level with the table, where he was able to
help himself. Cocklescraft partook with him, and might almost have
envied the keen gust and ravenous appetite with which his host
despatched the coarse but savoury fare of the board--for the Cripple's
power of stomach seemed to be no whit impaired by age. He continued to
talk, during his meal, in the same strain which we have described, now
indulging a peevish self-communion, now bursting forth with some
sarcastic objurgation of the world, and again breaking a jest with his
visiter.
When the seamen, under the ministration of the aged domestic, had got
their supper, Cocklescraft took his departure.
All night long lights were gleaming in the Chapel; the rain continued
in a steady misty drizzle, and not a star was seen to tempt a wanderer
abroad. The morning, which broke upon an atmosphere purged of its
vapours, showed no trace of the brig in the vicinity of St. Jerome's.
Far down the bay, hugging the eastern shore, might have been discerned
what a practised mariner would affirm to be a sail; but whether ship or
brig--whether outward or homeward bound, might not be told without the
aid of a glass.