PERSECUTIONS.
Scepticism is the offspring of ignorance. There are many people
still living who doubt the existence of dragons; who go so far as to
assert that such creatures never did exist upon the face of this
earth, and never did torment and destroy the inhabitants thereof, and
persecute forlorn maidens. They scoff at the records which have
descended to our times, as fabulous legends, composed by idle monks;
who were accustomed to write fictitious histories during the dark
ages. They deny to historical ballads that authority which Mr.
Macaulay attaches to them; and yet the principal fact in the
biography of Andromeda (even before the times of the monks) may have
been true; and the poor people of Wantley may really have been
harassed by the celebrated dragon of that ilk. We speak seriously.
Geologists have ascertained beyond a doubt that winged monsters of
the size described in ancient legends did really inhabit this earth
at some period or other. Happily they no longer exist of the same
dimensions as formerly; like the descendants of Anak, they have
become 'fined down', as it were, in the course of ages, until their
proportions no longer awaken personal fear, nor do their exploits
engage the attention of historians. Sometimes, however, the ancient
ferocity, the propensity for devastation, still breaks forth, even in
the diminutive descendants of this formidable race, and persecuted
Man feels himself driven to the brink of despair.
Soon after I had settled at Perth, in a small house, with three
quarters of an acre of ground about it, I began to think of improving
my little territory. I thought it was a duty I owed to society to
set a good example, by bringing my property into a high state of
cultivation.
I intended to "make the barren desert smile" -- to embower my
dwelling in the midst of blossoming peas, and aspiring kidney beans,
-- to draw around me, as it were, a little luxuriant Eden, which
should be the admiration of a Sunday public, as they stood riveted at
the palings, unable to pass by without a lengthened survey; whilst
the envied possessor, stooping behind his magnificent cabbages, would
listen to their unstudied bursts of rapture with justifiable pride.
Glowing with horticultural fervour, I rose early in the morning, and
dug up the soil with stern resolution, toiling with a Patagonian
pick-axe at the great roots which ran in every direction, until I
thought myself a perfect pattern of a settler. My man also exerted
himself with equal energy and more steady endurance; and in process
of time a considerable portion of ground was got ready for seed. In
order that nothing might be wanting to insure the most unlimited
success, I purchased a quantity of manure, and had it drawn upon the
ground. Then it was that the Evil Genius who (like the wicked
Enchanter that always kept his eye upon Don Quixote,) hath ever
dogged my steps, made his baleful presence manifest by the most
rampant hostility. The day on which the manure arrived, I went out
in my pleasure-boat upon Melville Water, accompanied by my man
Hannibal, to manage the head-sheets. On our return, at dusk, we
found the manure scattered all over the premises, as if it had been
kicked about by a party of dancing demons.
The traces of talons were clearly discernible on the ground. I knew
not what to make of it. I thought a dragon must have been rampaging
about the premises. Well! the next day the man scratched the manure
together again as well as he could, and we sowed a quantity of seed
-- peas, beans, and divers succulent vegetables. The following
morning Hannibal rose late, having overslept himself, as he alleged.
I was awakened by his sudden appearance at my bed-side, but no sooner
sat up than I fell back again, appalled by the ghastliness of his
visage.
"The d---ls," said he, "have been again, and have scrat up the earth
far and wide; and (he added using a strong expression,) I'll be
dashed if there's a seed left!"
Alas! "'twas but owre true." The ground so neatly raked the evening
before, which I had returned again and again to look at with fond
pride, until it was obscured by darkness, was now torn up and defaced
throughout its length and breadth.
"Well!" I exclaimed, as soon as I could speak, "there are dragons in
the world."
I could now enter into the feelings of the poor husbandman of the
dark ages, when he got up in the morning, and found a dragon
finishing the last of his highly-prized dairy cows. If I could only
catch him at it! I felt immediately a fit of blood-thirstiness creep
over me. I could have destroyed a dozen dragons with pleasure, might
I only come within reach of them. Calmly, however, I ordered
Hannibal to sow the seeds again, and keep better watch and ward in
future.
It now became a serious question how my property was to be protected.
Am I to be subject to these incursions without defence? Is there no
safeguard in this country for a man's possessions?
I finished breakfast hastily, and went to consult the chief
magistrate. To my question as to how I ought to guard my garden and
vegetables from the attacks of the insidious enemy, he replied by
referring me to the 2 Wm. IV. No. 2, a local act, by which people
whose property is trespassed upon, are allowed the privilege of
impounding the trespassers.
Impound a dragon! I thanked the worthy magistrate, "But," said I,
"the creatures that destroy my substance have wings, and are not to
be caught by men who have none."
"The law," replied his worship, "is decisive on the subject; you must
follow the law, whether you be able to follow the offender or not."
"But," said I again, "if the law gives me no protection -- and merely
to authorize me to impound a creature with wings, is a mockery
unworthy of the dignity of the law -- I may surely protect myself? I
will have a file of men on guard, and fire on any creature that
infringes upon the vested rights which I possess in my property. I
will defend myself," said I, growing warm under the oppressive weight
of the law, "and maintain my vested rights."
"No man," replied the worshipful justice, "as you know very well, has
a right to defend himself, except with the weapons of the law. You
will only get into scrapes if you fight with any other weapons."
Finding that I was kicking against the pricks, I made my bow, and
went home again in a very ireful mood.
Hannibal had resown the beds, and was at work upon others. On seeing
me, he stepped up to a fine Nuytsia floribunda, which ornaments my
grounds, and taking up a double-barrelled gun that was leaning
against it, gave a few significant slaps upon the breach, and smiling
complacently, winked his eye. I turned away and entered the house,
filled with a kind of grim satisfaction, as thoughts of vengeance
flitted through my brain. Too much disturbed to sit still, I paced
up and down the room, listening eagerly for sounds which should
announce the hour of slaughter and revenge.
The milk of human kindness had curdled in my breast; I felt that I
could sympathize with the restless anxiety of Charles IX on the
memorable eve of St. Bartholomew. But the butchery of unarmed
Huguenots was a different affair altogether from a war of
extermination against invading dragons. I looked out of the windows
every moment to see what Hannibal was about; but there he continued
hoeing, and weeding, and raking, and looking as calm and amiable as
the Duke when he awaited the proper moment to attack the French.
Suddenly he paused; I watched him quietly drop his rake, and retire
backwards behind a bush, where he remained crouching down, with the
double-barrelled gun in his hands.
Unable to remain quiet any longer, I opened the window, and cried in
a fierce whisper, "Kill! kill!" With his hand he motioned me to be
quiet, so I withdrew and paced about the room with feverish anxiety.
The discharge of both barrels made me drop into a chair. Murder had
been committed! Vengeance was satisfied, and remorse arrived as
usual. Remorse, the ill-favoured offspring of Fear!
"You will get yourself into scrapes," said the chief magistrate, "if
you use any other weapon than the law." I reasoned with Conscience;
I repeated the argument that I had a right to defend my property when
the law failed to afford me protection. Dragons, said I, are 'ferae
naturae'; the people of Perth, it would seem, are in the habit of
keeping them as pets, and thus they come to be considered private
property. But then, let the people of Perth destroy their own
substance, and not mine. If they do not choose to have gardens of
their own, they have no right to prevent the growth of my radishes.
Because they do not like sack, shall we have no more cakes and ale?
Because they can exist without cauliflowers, must I renounce all
hopes of having hyssop in my pottage?
What! am I to rise up early in the morning and sow the seeds of
carefulness and labour, merely for the sustenance of other people's
harpies?
To whom am I to look for redress, when I know not to whom the
ruthless creatures belong? -- Creatures that wander far and wide in
search of food; that gain their precarious subsistence by plunder and
rapine; and are intensely hostile to the labours and improvements
of civilization. No wonder the poet looked upon them as hell-born,
and called them a pest and a curse to society: --
"------nec saevior ulla
Pestis et ira Deuim Stygiis sese extulit undis."
I had made these reflections, and received a good deal of comfort
from them, when Hannibal appeared at the door with a pallid
countenance.
"Two of them, Sir, are done for; one's a big un -- eight pounds, if
he weighs an 'unce. He's a handsome feller, that un; black feathers,
and spurs to his heels six inches long. They'll make a houtcry about
him, I expect."
"What have you done with the carcases?"
"Dragged 'em behind the bushes. 'Tan't legal to lift the bodies."
"Go on with your work, Hannibal, and don't appear at all fluttered or
discomposed. Look as if nothing had happened. If any one calls, I
am not at home."
An outcry was raised about the death of the dragon. He was the
favourite of a young lady who was a pet of her papa's -- (next to
dragons, children are the most horrid nuisances). -- An accursed dog
(the D---l take all dogs! say I,) had found the body, and dragged it
into the street, where it was recognised by the girl. The papa,
furious at the sight of the favourite's tears, roamed and raged about
the town in search of witnesses. Men of Belial are always to be
found, especially in a colony, and Hannibal was openly accused of the
murder.
The whole town was in a state of excitement. People seemed to think
that a blow had been struck at the very roots of civil and religious
liberty; and as every one had his favourite dragon, every one felt
alarmed for its safety so long as Hannibal remained unpunished.
The ladies were especially bitter in their remarks and innuendoes.
I was told by 'friends', that more than one lady had observed, that
an old bachelor like myself cared nothing about dragons, and
therefore it was just like my selfishness to seek to deprive them of
their innocent pleasures and amusements.
No one would listen to my plea of self-defence; no one regarded my
losses; I was not looked upon as a sufferer; and instead of sympathy
received only abuse.
A summons being issued against Hannibal, he appeared before the
tribunal of two of Her Majesty's Justices of the Peace, accused of a
grave misdemeanour.
As every one knew that I was the instigator of the offence, I
magnanimously avowed the fact, and was requested to stand in the
place of Hannibal.
In vain, however, did I use every argument to justify the deed. The
chief magistrate reminded me that I had been fully advised to proceed
only according to law, under the Act, 2 Wm. IV. No. 2, amended (!!)
by 4 Wm. IV. No. 5; by either of which I was fully authorized to
seize and impound all trespassers -- a limit and license that
included dragons.
My defence was allowed to be a sensible and rational one; but the law
was opposed to it, and their worships were bound by oath to prefer
the law to common sense. (I doubted myself whether dragons came
within the Law, but the Justices decided that they were poundable
animals.) This being the case, I was under the necessity of paying
the sum of ten shillings damages, and as many more for costs and
expenses incurred by the bailiff, in travelling up and down his
bailiwick in search of the body of John Hannibal Muckthorne (whose
body was all the time sitting quietly in my kitchen) -- rather than
go to Fremantle gaol for a month, and help to draw stones about the
streets in a large cart.
I need scarcely add, that I returned home a wiser and sadder man.
"Hannibal," said I, "the Spirit of the Age in this colony is opposed
to territorial and to social improvement. My grounds must still
remain a barren waste. Instead of embowering myself in fertility, as
I had intended; instead of creating new beauties which should
transfuse fresh charms into the minds of the peripatetics of Perth; I
must continue to live in a desert, and shall doubtless soon subside
into an ascetic recluse. Hannibal! turn the horses into the garden,
and let them trample over the beds."
Thus have I reluctantly shown the reader that the dark ages still
cast their shadows over the city of Perth; -- the dawn of a high
state of civilization is still wanting there, where man continues
defenceless from the ravages of noxious monsters peculiar to an early
and uncivilized era.*
[footnote] *The laws which colonists make for themselves are often
as absurd as any that the Imperial Parliament thinks proper to enact
for them. To this day, the only legal remedy (except an action and a
shilling damages) against the winged and long-clawed nuisances that
destroy the hopes and break the heart of the horticulturist, is to
impound them.