he felt keenly for the woes of his master, did not venture into the
hall before morning,--and there was his master lying, with his arms
around his wife. He spoke to him;--but he spoke to the dead!
* * * * *
A distant relation laid claim to the dwelling, with the land
attached to it; but from the awful scenes in the former, which we
have related, it became uninhabited, and was soon an entire ruin;
finally even without a wreck.
THE DEVIL’S WALL.
“Jeremiah, read those directions and intimations once more; they
contain no less than a challenge to my valour. Truly his Black
Majesty seems to think that he can toss about the ball of earth for
his amusement; and that there is not a tailor who would venture to
‘measure him.’ Ah! Nick, give me a trial.”
Thus spoke Gideon Chiselwig, tailor, in Ormskirk. Unlike the most
of his brethren belonging to that honourable profession, he could
boast of six feet of perpendicular matter; but conceiving that
even that height was too low a tabernacle for his giant soul, he
fixed to the one extremity a long red nightcap, whilst he made
the other move on tiptoe, much to the mirth of the quizzing old
maids, for which that town is noted. He was never seen with that
upper garment, commonly called a coat; unless to display one of
fashionable cut, which he had just finished; and the absence of
this did not take from Gideon’s stature. Some conjectured that he
knew this; others had seen Mrs. Gideon, at home, arrayed in what,
evidently, had once been a coat; and they jocosely remarked, that
she had altogether monopolized the use of her husband’s apparel,
for now they had seen her with the coat, and Gideon himself had
confessed that she wore the breeches.--He had a vest, but the
pockets were only visited by his hands; silver and gold they had
never weighed; so that to all intents and purposes--the wife wore
the vest also.
Nature, however, had denied him her average allowance of breadth
and thickness, so much so, that in a tour to remarkable places,
during the honey-moon, having entered a museum in the metropolis,
the blushing bride was asked by the keeper, what was the price she
fixed upon the piece of anatomy which she brought. Gideon, did,
indeed, convince the questioner of his mistake, by a powerful and
conclusive argument directed against his head: still people will
suspect, even in the face of ample evidence; and the report had
been afloat, that there was something altogether strange about him.
This only served to give a more singular character to the tailor,
and nothing short of the marvellous in adventure could win his
attention and occupy his thoughts.
Others hinted, that were Mrs. Gideon not to awake him so early;
not to rap his knuckles, when at table he was stretching forth his
hand to help himself; nor yet to allow the poker to fall upon his
toes and corns, when they ventured within a few yards of the fire;
not to compel him to perform the necessary ablutions on a cold
morning, a mile from the house, and then allow the sun, the wind,
or the frost, to dry him; not to confine him, for bedclothes, to a
sheet in winter, and his shirt in summer; nor yet, occasionally,
to exercise her hands, and a stick, upon his body; Gideon would
soon improve in appearance, and, at length, be a rival to the oily
priest. But the old maids (for Mrs. Gideon had formerly been one
of the numerous sisterhood residing there) considered such hints
as morsels of scandal;--and who can, with more propriety, condemn
scandal, than old maids?--and if, in the multitude of councillors
there be safety, their view of the matter, certainly, had every
assurance of being the correct one--that he was killed by too
much fondling and love. Ah! ah! poor Gideon knew better. He had a
scar on his face that he was proud to shew, for he had received
it in honourable combat with a barber;--but he had others, below
the night-cap, and many all over his person, which he was glad to
conceal; for these he received from his wife! At first he resisted
her encroachment upon the rights of man; but soon his noble spirit
disdained to contend with a woman. He had not lost a dram of
courage, and he burned for some supernatural achievement.
His brother Jeremiah was made exactly in the antipodean style. He
was short and round; yet, as he himself pathetically said, when the
doctor, dreading apoplexy, had inquired about his diet, “tears were
his daily food, and misfortunes were the vinegar and salt.” His
eyes, in fact, seemed to have invisible onions always around them.
It was so when he was a babe, and his mother was in the habit of
remarking, that Jeremiah would not be troubled with water in the
head, because it would never stay there. When he entered upon the
profession of a tailor, Gideon had serious doubts that he would but
bring disgrace on it, himself, and all his relations; for, as he
very wisely reasoned, “How could he use the goose?--however hot it
was, in a moment his tears would cool it. And as for his needles--a
hundred would become rusty in a day.” However, Jeremiah passed
his apprenticeship with distinction, and became a partner in his
brother’s shop; where we introduce them, squatted on a large table,
to our readers, at the moment that Gideon had finished the sentence
which opens the Legend.
Jeremiah had in his hand, an old and tattered book, which seemed
to have been read by the feet, and not the eyes. He raised his eyes
from it, as his brother spoke, and poured forth a fresh flood of
tears. “Ah! brother,” he said, “you’ll still be after what leads
to your destruction. I warned you against marriage. On the night
previous, did I not strike you sharply on the ankle, and then upon
the head, and ask you how you could endure to have it repeated a
hundred times, in the whole multiplication table of your life. And
now,” here tears impeded his words, “can I not read about Satan’s
tricks without your wishing--”
“Resolving you mean; nay, Jeremiah, call it resolving to fight him.
I’m sure that he’s in Ormskirk. Yesterday morning, when I came from
washing myself, I traced in the snow a strange hoof to this very
door. There never was such a nunnery of old maids, in which he was
not found wooing them. But--but I’ll make a goose of him--I will!”
concluded the magnanimous tailor.
“A goose! a goose!” exclaimed the simple Jeremiah, in horror,
“he’ll burn our hands, and the cloth. I cannot use him for a goose.
Oh! brother, only say that you will not make him either a needle or
a goose, and I’ll read the words over again.”
“Well, well,” returned Gideon, a little pacified, as well as
elated, by the thought that there was one who really did think
that he was able to turn the devil into a goose, “sweep away your
tears. You’ll find the table cloth near you. Use the dirty corner
twice, and Nelly wont need to wash it.”
Jeremiah followed his brother’s directions, carefully passed the
cloth over his face, and once more fixed his eyes upon the book.
Gideon laid aside a pair of gaiters, which he was making for the
comfort of his wife. The winter was severe--and the doctor, it
seems, had said at the house of some wealthy person that there
would be a great mortality that season, should females not keep
their feet properly warm, and the report had spread through all the
town, and had been pretty well circulated, both by the tailors and
shoemakers. In fact, shoes and gaiters had been exhibited under
the imposing titles of life-preservers. Towards evening the sexton
had been known to look suspiciously upon them, and even openly to
condemn the traffic; but the articles were still in great demand.
Mrs. Gideon’s gaiters being, as we have said, thrown aside, the
tailor settled himself into the posture which was most becoming the
spirit of the reply, which he intended to make to the proposition
now to be propounded, and Jeremiah commenced reading--
“About midnight, let him go out into a wood, wherein there be
divers kinds of trees; let him stand behind a yew, and clapping
his hands together, cry out, come here, James, (such being the
endearing name by which he is known to his friends,) come here.
He shall then perceive a whisper from the top of the tree. Let
him instantly draw around him a magic circle, with the forefinger
of his right hand, lest his devilship, being angry, pettish, or
mischievous, may enter unawares, and suffocate him with his breath.
He must next name the conditions, upon the fulfilment of which, he
surrenders himself as a slave, then and for ever. He may ask any
thing, and his master is bound to perform it, or break the league,
and allow his hoof to be scratched with six pins or needles.”
“I have it!” exclaimed Gideon, “the agreement shall be made
this very night,” and he looked terrible things to a portrait
of Apollyon, which he had torn out of “Pilgrim’s Progress,” and
plastered over the mantel-piece.
But not contented with this manner of defiance, he sprung upon
his toes, hastily drew a needle from his waistcoat, and pinked
the enemy through and through the breast, in spite of scales
and hellish armour. Jeremiah, upon this, could not refrain from
weeping, and cried out, “poor dragon! poor dragon!”
“Poor dragon! Poor, indeed!” returned the doughty conqueror. “But
see, how fierce he looks! The longer I strike, his eyes become
larger, and expand with rage.”
When this announcement was made, Jeremiah quickly drew a circle
around him. This caution was unnecessary; for Gideon, seizing
the picture, threw it to the door, which Mrs. Chiselwig, at that
moment opening, received it full in her face. With a loud shout,
the enraged wife flew at her husband--we cannot say like a dove to
its mate. Nelly had a singular fancy and propensity for squinting;
and her visual organs seemed always, as if chiding nature for the
place which she had given them to occupy, and were just upon the
eve of taking their departure to some back settlements on the head,
as sentinels to guard a large neck-covering, which she wore with
some degree of pride. Jeremiah, who had a mixture of shrewdness
with all his simplicity, had long been of opinion, after careful
observation, comparison, and induction of facts, that squinting
was the property of old maids, and very philosophically, as well
as categorically, gave the following reasons. First--since they
always look back upon age, and, in their own calculations, never
become older, but sometimes younger; why should not their eyes be
in the posterior of their head? Secondly--female eyes ought always
to be in front, when their lips are in danger of being saluted; but
as old maids are not exposed to this danger, such a situation is
not necessary. But be this as it may, there could be no doubt of
the fact, that Mrs. Gideon Chiselwig did squint, and viewed every
thing at right angles. Perhaps she wished to avoid the labour of
her eyes travelling over a large nose. Still, squinting as she did,
she took a tolerably correct aim at the shoulders of her spouse.
In vain did he look pale, in vain did he attempt to kiss her, and
excuse the deed, by affirming that it was purely accidental: all
these circumstances did not stay the uplifted hand, or take away a
grain from its weight. She had frequently complained of being very
delicate, and when the doctor had been called in to feel her pulse
with his finger, poor Gideon wished that he could only feel her
fist with his head, as he must then have come to a very different
conclusion. She could faint, go vulgarly into hysterics, look as
pale as a drooping lily, and speak of consumption:--ah! Gideon knew
that she could likewise strike hard. It was not the mere “ego,”
tripping on his tongue, which said so: every rib, every bone, every
member told the same tale. On this occasion, Nelly did not abate
any of her strength.
“Angel of my life!” Gideon cried out, “desist, oh! Nelly desist!”
“You treat me as an angel, eh? Doff your nightcap then, in an
angel’s presence, and make your lowest bow of reverence.”
Gideon silently obeyed, and very soon had his head scratched to his
wife’s content. We omitted to mention that Nelly’s figure rather
came under the definition of dumpy; so that had Gideon only been
able to read the classics, and to know that the face of man was
made to look towards the skies, or the ceiling, she could not,
without the labour of mounting a high stool, have reached him, so
as to inflict _capital_ punishment.
Meanwhile, Jeremiah’s eyes were moist enough. We have our suspicion
that a _wave_ of Mrs. Chiselwig’s hand deposited a few tears there.
Still, as this phenomenon was by no means unusual, the Chronicler
leaves the point without any further investigation.
After “wholesome severities” had been administered to Gideon by his
wife, she dragged him to a seat beside the fire, where she also
seated herself, and began to examine the evidence of an exculpatory
nature, which the offender had to produce; and to the furtherance
of the ends of justice, called his brother to be jury in the case.
Jeremiah, in his own mind, had some doubts as to the equity of this
course of proceeding: but he was too wise to allow any private
opinion of his to contradict the wish of the judge. He thought,
too, that his brother’s heroism was much too pure and exalted,
since it led him to be passively submissive to the treatment of
his wife, lest he might use his weapons ingloriously, when their
edge was to be turned against Satan; and as he rose from the
table to occupy the jury-box, he was almost tempted to tell both
parties that he would be their mutual second, in a fair combat,
and then strength would be both jury and judge, and fists would
pronounce guilty or not guilty, and register the doom or acquittal
accordingly. But Jeremiah shewed his prudence by being silent. Mrs.
Chiselwig motioned him to his seat, when her eyes fell upon the
gaiters, lying unfinished on the floor.
“So,” she began, “you thought I should not require gaiters after
you had killed me, and had resolved to be thrifty, that you might
tempt some other person to be your wife?”
Gideon, in reply, raised his eyes. We have some doubt as to whether
this movement was expressive of his calling Heaven to witness that
he was innocent of any such design; or of his chiding Heaven, for
not having brought accidents to such a desirable issue.
Mrs. Gideon’s head began to incline a little to her left hand,
which was opened to support it; her breast was heaving against her
right hand; her eyes were rolling in an interesting lack-lustre;
and her face, with the exception of the nose, was pale. These were
symptoms of hysterics. She seemed about to fall from her seat, and
Gideon once thought of helping her to her wish, by removing the
chair from under her, but when he thought over the matter twice,
the idea was abandoned, for Nelly had been known to recover in a
wondrously short time, from her fainting fits. On this occasion she
contented herself with bursting into tears.
“Oh! cruel brute, to be yoked to such a delicate little heart! Why
did I leave the holy state of single life. I might now have been
seated, eating gingerbread as I was when the wretch came with his
proposals!”
Gideon gave a sigh, and thought that even Ormskirk gingerbread
should not tempt him, were he free, to bear her company.
Mrs. Chiselwig continued,--
“Was not my shop the most frequented of any in the town? Those who
could not pay to eat the gingerbread, stood gazing upon it at the
window, and feasted their eyes; those who were my friends, were
allowed to smell it; and those who ate it, thought that they would
never die. Where was the true lover that did not regularly, when
about to visit his sweetheart, buy a little of Nelly’s cake, in
order that he might have an agreeable and pleasant breath?”
“And did not your own true love,” interrupted Gideon in an
appeal overflowing with tenderness, “pay your shop many of such
periodical visits, and did he not, in the slyness of the feeling,
pretend that he was about to visit such and such a damsel, and
then, after swallowing a cake or two, delicately and timidly
ask pardon for the liberty he was about to take, in wishing you
to decide, by allowing him a salute on your own sweet lips,
whether his breath was made agreeable enough? Oh! Nelly, have you
altogether forgot those days?”
At this moment, when he was pursuing his reminiscences, he came
upon one which he passed over in silence. In “those days” to
which he referred, he had his suspicions that Nelly’s decision
was not quite disinterested, for after one salute, and frequently
two salutes, she was of opinion that Gideon’s breath was not
sufficiently flavoured to make it pleasant, and, of course, he was
under the necessity of purchasing a few more cakes of gingerbread.
Then, however, these suspicions were counterbalanced by others,
which whispered, that instead of wishing him to spend his money,
she was only anxious that he should spend his kisses. Woman is
said to be fickle and changeable: but some hold that man, after
marriage, changes his opinion much more than woman, adducing as a
proof, the existence of angels on earth in female form, to which
every unmarried man swears a hundred times, but which no married
man believes. Gideon, accordingly, was not exactly of the same
opinion, in reference to Nelly’s motive for the course of conduct
described, and he recollected many a squint in the direction of his
pocket, confirmatory of the change. This one reminiscence, we have
said, Gideon omitted to suggest to Mrs. Chiselwig, and was about to
wander over others which might tend to warm her towards him, when
Jeremiah waved him to silence, and began,--
“And, madam, you surely have not yet forgot how many times I
entered the shop, and made some purchases?”
“No,” sharply returned Mrs. Chiselwig, “twelve times, and out of
these, five times you left the shop without leaving your money.
One of my reasons for marrying the fool, your brother, was, that I
might not lose your account. But, Jeremiah, finish my gaiters, and
you shall be quit for the interest due to me. So, Mr. Chiselwig,
you thought that I would never use them, but I shall outlive you,
and obtain another husband.”
Jeremiah moved uncomfortably on his seat, but resolved in his own
mind, that _he_ would never be that husband.
“Another husband!” continued Nelly, after thinking over her last
words, “no, no. Why did I leave the virgin state?--oh! why--why?”
Gideon listened eagerly, expecting to hear her assign a reason,
the “why,” and the “wherefore,” for when he asked himself the same
question, he could invent no answer.
“I was a fool--a fool,” she concluded.
Her spouse thought that the same answer would do for him likewise,
and that marriage had coupled them in folly. Mrs. Chiselwig then
left the room to retreat to bed, warning Gideon against making his
appearance there before morning.
The two brothers drew closer to each other, and, in a short time,
our hero was “himself again,” and spoke of undertaking an adventure
with Satan that very night. And the first question to be settled
was, what should Gideon’s apparel be? Some philosophers, perhaps,
will say, that in strict logical arrangement, this ought not to
have been the first question, and that the time and place had prior
claims upon their notice. But, let it be remembered, that the hero
was a tailor.--Jeremiah was decidedly of opinion that Gideon should
not take a coat. “The book,” he argued, “gives directions that
a circle be drawn round your person. Now, should the slightest
movement on your part be made, the skirts of the coat might fly
over the circle, and the enemy might seize them, and thus draw you
from your strong hold of safety, and carry you away.”
It was, therefore agreed upon, _nem. con._ that Gideon should not
take a coat.
“And as for the night cap,” resumed the same subtle reasoner,
“since it is of a red colour, it may remind him of the hot place
which he has left, and then setting him to shiver and tremble, may
give you, his opponent, some advantage.”
This, likewise, was carried unanimously.
The next series of questions was concerning the place. The book
had mentioned a wood, and luckily it occurred to the remembrance
of Gideon, that there was a dark wood, at a short distance
from Ormskirk. But then, all the trees were of fir, and it was
distinctly stated, that the challenger should stand behind a yew.
Here seemed to be an insuperable objection.
By agreement they divided themselves into two committees, to
deliberate upon the matter; and they placed themselves at opposite
sides of the fire, and hid their faces in their hands, lest the
other might know of their opinion. Once, indeed, they had started
from their posture, as they imagined that they heard Nelly’s foot
on the staircase, but as she did not make her appearance, it was
resumed: and certainly the expression of their countenance at that
moment would not have discovered any opinion about the question in
consideration. At length Gideon started from his seat.
“I have it!” he exclaimed, rubbing his brow and scratching his
head, “yes: the priest, towards the conclusion of his discourse
last Sunday, told us that the yew was a type of death. He said that
it was black, and so was death: it grew in the church-yard, and so
did death. Then he stated--”
“Go on, go on,” interrupted Jeremiah impatiently,--“proceed,
brother. I fell asleep over that point.”
“Then he stated,” continued Gideon, “that as the yew was the emblem
of the death of old men, so the cypress, being a much smaller tree,
might, with great propriety, be considered as an emblem of the
death of young men. Now I am a young man, Jeremiah, and the cypress
is, therefore, the tree for me!”
“But is there a cypress in ‘the Rough?’”
“No, no,” was the answer, “remain here for a little, and I will
bring one. Satan can have no objection, unless he be a coward, to
one standing without roots.”
Still Gideon did not leave the house, and some uncomfortable
thoughts were evidently clouding his brow, at least that part of it
which the nightcap left uncovered.
“Should Nelly come down, and find that I am out, she would leave
me to cool all night, on the wrong side of the door. But covered
with glory, from fiendish achievements, could she resist me?”--and
elated with the idea, he looked a few inches taller, and braver by
as many; strode with a martial air twice across the room, and then
strode out. Jeremiah was not fond of adventures: and the truth was,
that he had not asked where his brother was going for the cypress,
lest he should have been answered by another question, “would he
not accompany him?” He himself confessed that he was rather of a
_sedentary_ disposition, and must, therefore, have declined to
leave his chair.
Meanwhile Gideon was threading his way to the churchyard, which
was at a little distance. The priest, it seems, had said, that
should any of his hearers have the curiosity to see a cypress, he
would, when the service was over, shew them one. A few had remained
behind: of whom, some not being very excellent herbists, had
expected to find winter apples there; because, as they reasoned,
the tree was an emblem of death, and the eating of an apple had
brought death into the world. Gideon was not of this class. He
was forced to remain behind, because Mrs. Chiselwig had strictly
enjoined him never to be nearer her on their way home, than a
hundred yards; so that he received the benefit of the priest’s
illustration, and knew exactly the situation of the cypress. He
entered the churchyard, found the spot, and then ascertained that
he had forgot a digging spade. It was dim twilight, but the snow
on the ground made objects, otherwise invisible, to be seen, and
the tailor recognized a form approaching. He at once concluded
that it was the enemy, and took his station, as directed, behind
the cypress. He heard a deep groan, and then a shriek. Nothing
terrified, Gideon called out, in a ferocious tone, “Come, James,
come,” when he received an answer,
“Oh! heaven, save my wits, and my body. Shall I come? No, no; and
yet I cannot run. Something holds me fast.”
Gideon was astonished. The enemy had, in his hearing, breathed a
prayer;--not a pater-noster, indeed, but still a prayer. Soon,
however, his astonishment gave way to his rage, that he would not
come. “Fiend! coward!” Gideon cried out, when he instantly heard
retreating steps. He pursued in the direction of the sounds, and
came up to a form crouching behind a tombstone! The tailor was
collared in a moment, and struck to the ground.