"It is my intention, as an act of justice, before I die, to make my
son Gabriel acquainted with the mystery of my married life. It is due
to him and to myself that he should not pass his life in ignorance of
the sad events and circumstances which shadowed his home. The journal
which I have written, and in which he will find a record of facts,
will put him in possession of the melancholy circumstances of his
parents' lives. Without additional words from me he would understand
the explanation I have given, but something more is necessary from me
to him.
"When I married his mother I had no knowledge that there was in her
blood an inherited disease. Had I suspected it I should not have
married her. It would have been a transgression against the laws of
God and man. To bring into the world human beings who are not
responsible for their actions, and who are driven to crime by the
promptings of a demoniac force born within them and growing stronger
with their own growth to strong manhood, is to be the creator of a
race of monsters. It matters not how fair and beautiful the outside
may be; simply to think of the evil forces sleeping within, urging to
sin and crime and cruelty, is sufficient to make a just man shudder.
Madness assumes many phases, but not one more dreadful than the phase
in which it presented itself in my wife's nature. Her conscious,
waking life was a life of gentleness and kindness; her unconscious,
sleeping life, but for the restraints I placed upon her, would have
been a life of crime. The fault was not hers, but it fell to her lot
to bear the burden of her curse. I, at least, by rendering her
existence a misery to herself and those around her, kept her free from
crime. One she committed before my eyes were opened, but its
consequences were not fatal. To this hour she does not know that she
attempted the life of a human being, and it is possible, because of my
treatment of her, that she thinks of me as a monster of cruelty. It is
for me to bear this burden, in addition to others which have come to
me unaware. I do not bemoan, but my life might have been bright and
honoured had I not married my wife. The one consolation I have is that
I have endeavoured to perform my duty. My son Gabriel must perform
his, though his heart bleed in its performance. Should the worst
befall, all that I can do is to implore his forgiveness for having
been the cause of his living. There have been times when I have
debated with myself whether it would not be the more merciful course
to put him out of the world, but I have never had the courage to
execute the sentence which my sense of stern justice dictated. There
is, however, one chance in life for him, although I most solemnly
adjure him never to marry, never to link his life with that of an
innocent being. If his heart is moved to love he must pluck the
sentiment out by the roots, must fly from it as from a horror which
blenches the cheek to contemplate. Our race must die with him; not one
must live after him to perpetuate it. I lay this injunction most
solemnly upon him; if he violate it he will be an incredible
monster--as I should have been had I married his mother knowing what
taint was in her blood. For his guidance I may say that I have
consulted the most eminent authorities in Europe, and this is their
verdict. Let him pay careful heed to it, for in my judgment it is
incontrovertible.
"Reference to my journal will show him that the first visible
manifestation of his mother's disease was exhibited about five months
before he was born. We were then inhabiting a house in Switzerland,
and on the night her fatal inheritance took active shape and form we
had been entertaining a party of friends--one of whom was a foul
villain--and my wife had been singing many times a Tyrolean air of
which she was passionately fond. I copy the music of the air here,
praying to God that my son may not be familiar with it."
(Here followed a few bars of music, which I had no doubt formed the
air to which Mrs. Fortress had referred in her statement, and mention
of which will also be found in the record of his life made by Gabriel
Carew.)
"After the almost tragic events of that night my wife was continually
singing this air; I have heard her hum it in her sleep. When my son
was born she suckled the child--an error I deeply deplore. The
physicians I consulted are of one opinion. If my son Gabriel inherits
in its worst form his mother's disease, the ghost of this air will
haunt him from time to time. It may not be so clear to his senses that
he could sing it aloud, but he would indubitably recognise it if he
heard it by accident. It is for a test that I copy the music; it is
for my son to apply it. Should the air be entirely unfamiliar to him,
should it fail to recall any sensations through which he has passed,
the inheritance transmitted to him by his mother--if it ever assume
practical shape--will exhibit itself in a milder and less ruthless
form. The physicians aver that at some time or other, if Gabriel live
long, some such manifestation will most surely take place, and that if
it occur in its worst phase, the key-note to the occurrence may be
found in the affections.
"This is as much as I can at present find strength to set down. I
shall take an opportunity to confer with my son upon this gloomy
matter, but I have a reluctance to approach the subject personally
with him during the lifetime of his mother. It will need an almost
superhuman courage on my part to speak of such a matter to my own son,
but I must nerve my soul to the task. If he reproach me, if he curse
me, I must bear it humbly. Once more I implore his forgiveness."