SNARLEYYOW
Or, The Dog Fiend
by
CAPTAIN MARRYAT
MDCCCXCV
Contents
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XLI.
CHAPTER XLII.
CHAPTER XLIII.
CHAPTER XLIV.
CHAPTER XLV.
CHAPTER XLVI.
CHAPTER XLVII.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
CHAPTER XLIX.
CHAPTER L.
CHAPTER LI.
CHAPTER LII.
CHAPTER LIII.
CHAPTER LIV.
CHAPTER LV.
Prefatory Note
_The dog fiend, or Snarleyyow_ is the earliest of the three novels, _The
Phantom Ship_ and _The Privateersman_ being the other two, in which
Marryat made use of historical events and attempted to project his
characters into the past. The research involved is not profound, but the
machinations of Jacobite conspirators provide appropriate material for
the construction of an adventure plot and for the exhibition of a
singularly despicable villain. Mr Vanslyperken and his acquaintances,
male and female, at home and abroad, are all--except perhaps his
witch-like mother--thoroughly life-like and convincing: their conduct is
sufficiently probable to retain the reader's attention for a rapid and
exciting narrative.
The numerous escapes of the vile cur, after whom the novel is
christened, and of his natural enemy Peter Smallbones are not all
equally well contrived, and they become a little wearisome by
repetition; but a general atmosphere of _diablerie_ is very effectively
produced by their means. Some such element of unreality is absolutely
demanded to relieve the sordid and brutal details by which the main plot
is worked out; and it must be admitted that in certain passages--the
death-struggle between Smallbones and the lieutenant's mother, the
discovery of the woman's body, and the descriptions of kisses between
Corporal Van Spitter and the Frau Vandersloosh--Marryat's habitual
literalness becomes unpleasantly coarse. The offensive touches, however,
are incidental, and the execution of the two villains, Vanslyperken and
Snarleyyow, with its dash of genuine pathos, is dramatic and
impressive:--"They were damnable in their lives, and in their deaths
they were not divided."
As usual the interest of the novel depends almost entirely upon men, but
on the character of Mrs Corbett, _née_ Nancy Dawson, Marryat has
expended considerable care with satisfactory results. Barring the
indecorous habit of regretting her past in public, which is not perhaps
untrue to nature, she is made attractive by her wit and sincere
repentance, without becoming unnaturally refined. The song in her honour
referred to on p. 107 is not suitable for reproduction in this place.
She was an historic character in the reign of William III., but must not
be confounded with her more celebrated namesake (1730-1767) of Sadler's
Wells, Covent Garden, and Drury Lane, who danced a horn-pipe in _The
Beggar's Opera_ to the air of "Nancy Dawson," which is mentioned in the
epilogue of _She Stoops to Conquer_, and survives in our nurseries as
"Here we go round the Mulberry Bush."
The greater part of _Snarleyyow_ was first printed in _The Metropolitan
Magazine_, 1836 and 1837; but on reaching Chapter xl., just as the novel
had appeared in book form, the editor--not then Marryat himself--told
his readers that it was not his intention to give an extended review of
this work, as they had already "ample means of forming their own opinion
of its varied merits:"--"We shall therefore content ourselves with a few
remarks, in announcing its publication and giving a brief outline of the
termination of the story from our last number." At the close of the said
extracts he writes:--
"And so ends Snarleyyow, with as much quaintness, spirit, and character
as it commenced."
The book was evidently written in haste, and few of the minor characters
retained one Christian name throughout its pages. It is here reprinted,
with the corrections of such slips as those just mentioned, from the
first edition in three volumes. Henry Colburn, 1837.
R.B.J.
Chapter I
Introduction of divers parties and a red-herring.
It was in the month of January, 1699, that a one-masted vessel, with
black sides, was running along the coast near Beachy Head, at the rate
of about five miles per hour. The wind was from the northward and blew
keenly, the vessel was under easy sail, and the water was smooth. It was
now broad daylight, and the sun rose clear of clouds and vapour; but he
threw out light without heat. The upper parts of the spars, the hammock
rails, and the small iron guns which were mounted on the vessel's decks,
were covered with a white frost. The man at the helm stood muffled up in
a thick pea-jacket and mittens, which made his hands appear as large as
his feet. His nose was a pug of an intense bluish red, one tint arising
from the present cold, and the other from the preventive checks which he
had been so long accustomed to take to drive out such an unpleasant
intruder. His grizzled hair waved its locks gently to the wind, and his
face was distorted with an immoderate quid of tobacco which protruded
his right cheek. This personage was second officer and steersman on
board of the vessel, and his name was Obadiah Coble. He had been
baptised Obadiah about sixty years before; that is to say if he had been
baptised at all. He stood so motionless at the helm, that you might have
imagined him to have been frozen there as he stood, were it not that
his eyes occasionally wandered from the compass on the binnacle to the
bows of the vessel, and that the breath from his mouth, when it was
thrown out into the clear frosty air, formed a smoke like to that from
the spout of a half-boiling tea-kettle.
The crew belonging to the cutter, for she was a vessel in the service of
his Majesty, King William the Third, at this time employed in protecting
his Majesty's revenue against the importation of alamodes and
lutestrings, were all down below at their breakfasts, with the exception
of the steersman and lieutenant-commandant, who now walked the
quarter-deck, if so small an extent of plank could be dignified with
such a name. He was a Mr Cornelius Vanslyperken, a tall, meagre-looking
personage, with very narrow shoulders and very small head. Perfectly
straight up and down, protruding in no part, he reminded you of some
tall parish pump, with a great knob at its top. His face was gaunt,
cheeks hollow, nose and chin showing an affection for each other, and
evidently lamenting the gulf between them which prevented their meeting.
Both appeared to have fretted themselves to the utmost degree of tenuity
from disappointment in love: as for the nose, it had a pearly round tear
hanging at its tip, as if it wept. The dress of Mr Vanslyperken was
hidden in a great coat, which was very long, and buttoned straight down.
This great coat had two pockets on each side, into which its owner's
hands were deeply inserted, and so close did his arms lie to his sides,
that they appeared nothing more than as would battens nailed to a
topsail yard. The only deviation from the perpendicular was from the
insertion of a speaking-trumpet under his left arm, at right angles with
his body. It had evidently seen much service, was battered, and the
clack Japan worn off in most parts of it. As we said before, Mr
Vanslyperken walked his quarter-deck. He was in a brown study, yet
looked blue. Six strides brought him to the taffrail of the vessel, six
more to the bows, such was the length of his tether--and he turned, and
turned again.
But there was another personage on the deck, a personage of no small
importance, as he was all in all to Mr Vanslyperken, and Mr Vanslyperken
was all in all to him; moreover, we may say, that he is the hero of the
TAIL. This was one of the ugliest and most ill-conditioned curs which
had ever been produced:--ugly in colour; for he was of a dirty yellow,
like the paint served out to decorate our men-of-war by his Majesty's
dock-yards:--ugly in face; for he had one wall-eye, and was so far
under-jawed as to prove that a bull-dog had had something to do with his
creation:--ugly in shape; for although larger than a pointer, and
strongly built, he was coarse and shambling in his make, with his
forelegs bowed out. His ears and tail had never been docked, which was a
pity, as the more you curtailed his proportions, the better looking the
cur would have been. But his ears, although not cut, were torn to
ribbons by the various encounters with dogs on shore, arising from the
acidity of his temper. His tail had lost its hair from an inveterate
mange, and reminded you of the same appendage to a rat. Many parts of
his body were bared from the same disease. He carried his head and tail
low, and had a villanous sour look. To the eye of a casual observer,
there was not one redeeming quality that would warrant his keep; to
those who knew him well, there were a thousand reasons why he should be
hanged. He followed his master with the greatest precision and
exactitude, walking aft as he walked aft, and walking forward with the
same regular motion, turning when his master turned, and moreover,
turning in the same direction; and, like his master, he appeared to be
not a little nipped with the cold, and, as well as he, in a state of
profound meditation. The name of this uncouth animal was very
appropriate to his appearance, and to his temper. It was Snarleyyow.
At last, Mr Vanslyperken gave vent to his pent-up feelings. "I can't, I
won't stand this any longer," muttered the lieutenant, as he took his
six strides forward. At this first sound of his master's voice the dog
pricked up the remnants of his ears, and they both turned aft. "She has
been now fooling me for six years;" and as he concluded this sentence,
Mr Vanslyperken and Snarleyyow had reached the taffrail, and the dog
raised his tail to the half cock.
They turned, and Mr Vanslyperken paused a moment or two, and compressed
his thin lips--the dog did the same. "I will have an answer, by all
that's blue!" was the ejaculation of the next six strides. The
lieutenant stopped again, and the dog looked up in his master's face;
but it appeared as if the current of his master's thoughts was changed,
for the current of keen air reminded Mr Vanslyperken that he had not yet
had his breakfast.
The lieutenant leant over the hatchway, took his battered
speaking-trumpet from under his arm, and putting it to his mouth, the
deck reverberated with, "Pass the word for Smallbones forward." The dog
put himself in a baying attitude, with his forefeet on the coamings of
the hatchway, and enforced his master's orders with a deep-toned and
measured bow, wow, wow.
Smallbones soon made his appearance, rising from the hatchway like a
ghost; a thin, shambling personage, apparently about twenty years old--a
pale, cadaverous face, high cheek-bones, goggle eyes, with lank hair
very thinly sown upon a head, which, like bad soil, would return but a
scanty harvest. He looked like Famine's eldest son just arriving to
years of discretion. His long lanky legs were pulled so far through his
trousers, that his bare feet, and half way up to his knees, were exposed
to the chilling blast. The sleeves of his jacket were so short, that
four inches of bone above his wrist were bared to view--hat he had
none--his ears were very large, and the rims of them red with cold, and
his neck was so immeasurably long and thin, that his head appeared to
topple for want of support. When he had come on deck, he stood with one
hand raised to his forehead, touching his hair instead of his hat, and
the other occupied with a half-roasted red-herring. "Yes, sir," said
Smallbones, standing before his master.
"Be quick!"--commenced the lieutenant; but here his attention was
directed to the red-herring by Snarleyyow, who raised his head and
snuffed at its fumes. Among other disqualifications of the animal, be it
observed, that he had no nose except for a red-herring, or a post by the
way side. Mr Vanslyperken discontinued his orders, took his hand out of
his great coat pocket, wiped the drop from off his nose, and then roared
out, "How dare you appear on the quarter-deck of a king's ship, sir,
with a red-herring in your fist?"
"If you please, sir," replied Smallbones, "if I were to come for to go
to leave it in the galley, I shouldn't find it when I went back."
"What do I care for that, sir? It's contrary to all the rules and
regulations of the service. Now, sir, hear me--"
"O Lord, sir! let me off this time, it's only a _soldier_," replied
Smallbones, deprecatingly; but Snarleyyow's appetite had been very much
sharpened by his morning's walk; it rose with the smell of the herring,
so he rose on his hind legs, snapped the herring out of Smallbones'
hand, bolted forward by the lee gangway, and would soon have bolted the
herring, had not Smallbones bolted after him and overtaken him just as
he had laid it down on the deck preparatory to commencing his meal. A
fight ensued; Smallbones received a severe bite in the leg, which
induced him to seize a handspike, and make a blow with it at the dog's
head, which, if it had been well aimed, would have probably put an end
to all further pilfering. As it was, the handspike descended upon one of
the dog's fore toes, and Snarleyyow retreated, yelling, to the other
side of the forecastle, and as soon as he was out of reach, like all
curs, bayed in defiance.
Smallbones picked up the herring, pulled up his trousers to examine the
bite, poured down an anathema upon the dog, which was, "May you be
starved, as I am, you beast!" and then turned round to go aft, when he
struck against the spare form of Mr Vanslyperken, who, with his hands in
his pocket, and his trumpet under his arm, looked unutterably savage.
"How dare you beat _my_ dog, you villain?" said the lieutenant at last,
choking with passion.
"He's a-bitten my leg through and through, sir," replied Smallbones,
with a face of alarm.
"Well, sir, why have you such thin legs, then?"
"'Cause I gets nothing to fill 'em up with."
"Have you not a herring there, you herring-gutted scoundrel? which, in
defiance of all the rules of the service, you have brought on his
Majesty's quarter-deck, you greedy rascal, and for which I intend--"
"It ar'n't my herring, sir, it be yours--for your breakfast--the only
one that is left out of the half-dozen."
This last remark appeared somewhat to pacify Mr Vanslyperken.
"Go down below, sir," said he, after a pause, "and let me know when my
breakfast is ready."
Smallbones obeyed immediately, too glad to escape so easily.
"Snarleyyow," said his master, looking at the dog, who remained on the
other side of the forecastle; "O Snarleyyow, for shame! Come here, sir.
Come here, sir, directly."
But Snarleyyow, who was very sulky at the loss of his anticipated
breakfast, was contumacious, and would not come. He stood at the other
side of the forecastle, while his master apostrophised him, looking him
in the face. Then, after a pause of indecision, he gave a howling sort
of bark, trotted away to the main hatchway, and disappeared below. Mr
Vanslyperken returned to the quarter-deck, and turned, and turned
as before.