CHAPTER LXXIV.
I do but hide Under these words, like embers, every spark Of that whichhas consumed me. Quick and dark The grave is yawning;--as its roof shallcover My limbs with dust and worms, under and over, So let oblivion hidethis grief. Julian and Maddalo.
With thee, the very future fled, I stand amid the past alone; A tombwhich still shall guard the dead Tho' every earthlier trace be flown,A tomb o'er which the weeds that love Decay--their wild luxuriancewreathe! The cold and callous stone above--And only thou and deathbeneath. From Unpublished Poems by ------.
THE HISTORY OF SIR REGINALD GLANVILLE.
"You remember my character at school--the difficulty with which youdrew me from the visionary and abstracted loneliness which, even at thattime, was more consonant to my taste, than all the sports and societyresorted to by other boys--and the deep, and, to you, inexplicabledelight with which I returned to my reveries and solitude again. Thatcharacter has continued through life the same; circumstances havestrengthened, not altered it. So has it been with you; the temper, thehabits, the tastes, so strongly contrasted with mine in boyhood, havelost nothing of that contrast. Your ardour for the various ambition oflife is still the antipodes to my indifference; your daring, restless,thoughtful, resolution in the pursuit, still shames my indolence andabstraction. You are still the votary of the world, but will become itsconqueror--I its fugitive--and shall die its victim.
"After we parted at school, I went for a short time to a tutor'sin--shire. Of this place I soon grew weary; and my father's deathleaving me in a great measure at my own disposal, I lost no time inleaving it. I was seized with that mania for travel common enough toall persons of my youth and disposition. My mother allowed me an almostunlimited command over the fortune hereafter to be my own; and, yieldingto my wishes, rather than her fears, she suffered me, at the age ofeighteen, to set out for the Continent alone. Perhaps the quiet andreserve of my character made her think me less exposed to the dangers ofyouth, than if I had been of a more active and versatile temper. Thisis no uncommon mistake; a serious and contemplative disposition is,however, often the worst formed to acquire readily the knowledge ofthe world, and always the most calculated to suffer deeply from theexperience.
"I took up my residence for some time at Spa. It is, you know, perhaps,a place dull enough to make gambling the only amusement; every oneplayed--and I did not escape the contagion; nor did I wish it: for, likethe minister Godolphin, I loved gaming for its own sake, because it wasa substitute for conversation. This habit brought me acquainted with Mr.Tyrrell, who was then staying at Spa; he had not, at that time, quitedissipated his fortune, but was daily progressing to so desirable aconsummation. A gambler's acquaintance is readily made, and easily kept,provided you gamble too.
"We became as intimate as the reserve of my habits ever suffered me tobecome with any one, but you. He was many years older than me--had seena great deal of the world--had mixed much in its best societies, and, atthat time, whatever was the grossierete of his mind, had little of thecoarseness of manner which very soon afterwards distinguished him;evil communication works rapidly in its results. Our acquaintance was,therefore, natural enough, especially when it is considered that mypurse was entirely at his disposal--for borrowing is twice blessed, inhim that takes and him that gives--the receiver becomes complaisant andconceding, and the lender thinks favourably of one he has obliged.
"We parted at Spa, under a mutual promise to write. I forget if thispromise was kept--probably not; we were not, however, the worse friendsfor being bad correspondents. I continued my travels for about anotheryear; I then returned to England, the same melancholy and dreamingenthusiast as before. It is true that we are the creatures ofcircumstances; but circumstances are also, in a great measure, thecreatures of us. I mean, they receive their colour from the previousbent of our own minds; what raises one would depress another, and whatvitiates my neighbour might correct me. Thus the experience of theworld makes some persons more worldly--others more abstracted, and theindulgence of the senses becomes a violence to one mind, and a secondnature to another. As for me, I had tasted all the pleasures youth andopulence can purchase, and was more averse to them than ever. I hadmixed with many varieties of men--I was still more rivetted to themonotony of self.
"I cannot hope, while I mention these peculiarities, that I am a veryuncommon character; I believe the present age has produced many such.Some time hence, it will be a curious inquiry to ascertain the causesof that acute and sensitive morbidity of mind, which has been, and stillis, so epidemic a disease. You know me well enough to believe, that I amnot fond of the cant of assuming an artificial character, or of creatinga fictitious interest; and I am far from wishing to impose upon youa malady of constitution for a dignity of mind. You must pardon myprolixity. I own that it is very painful to me to come to the main partof my confessions, and I am endeavouring to prepare myself by lingeringover the prelude."
Glanville paused here for a few moments. In spite of the sententiouscoolness with which he pretended to speak, I saw that he was powerfullyand painfully affected.
"Well," he continued, "to resume the thread of my narrative; after I hadstayed some weeks with my mother and sister, I took advantage oftheir departure for the continent, and resolved to make a tour throughEngland. Rich people, and I have always been very rich, get exceedinglytired of the embarrassment of their riches. I seized with delight atthe idea of travelling without carriages and servants; I took merely afavourite horse, and the black dog, poor Terror, which you see now at myfeet.
"The day I commenced this plan was to me the epoch of a new and terribleexistence. However, you must pardon me if I am not here sufficientlydiffuse. Suffice it, that I became acquainted with a being whom, forthe first and only time in my life, I loved! This miniature attempts toexpress her likeness; the initials at the back, interwoven with my own,are hers."
"Yes," said I, incautiously, "they are the initials of GertrudeDouglas."
"What!" cried Glanville, in a loud tone, which he instantly checked, andcontinued in an indrawn, muttered whisper: "How long is it since I heardthat name! and now--now--" he broke off abruptly, and then said, with acalmer voice, "I know not how you have learnt her name; perhaps you willexplain?"
"From Thornton," said I.
"And has he told you more?" cried Glanville, as if gasping forbreath--the "history--the dreadful--"
"Not a word," said I, hastily; "he was with me when I found the picture,and he explained the initials."
"It is well!" answered Glanville, recovering himself; "you will seepresently if I have reason to love that those foul and sordid lipsshould profane the story I am about to relate. Gertrude was an onlydaughter; though of gentle blood, she was no match for me, either inrank or fortune. Did I say just now that the world had not altered me?See my folly; one year before I saw her, and I should not have thoughther, but myself honoured by a marriage;--twelve little months hadsufficed to--God forgive me! I took advantage of her love--heryouth--her innocence--she fled with me--but not to the altar!"
Again Glanville paused, and again, by a violent effort, conquered hisemotion, and proceeded:
"Never let vice be done by halves--never let a man invest all his pureraffections in the woman he ruins--never let him cherish the kindness,if he gratifies the selfishness, of his heart. A profligate, who reallyloves his victim, is one of the most wretched of beings. In spite of mysuccessful and triumphant passion--in spite of the delirium of the firstintoxication of possession, and of the better and deeper delight ofa reciprocity of thought--feeling, sympathy, for the first time,found;--in the midst of all the luxuries my wealth could produce, and ofthe voluptuous and spring-like hues with which youth, health, and firstlove, clothe the earth which the loved one treads, and the air which sheinhales: in spite of these, in spite of all, I was any thing but happy.If Gertrude's cheek seemed a shade more pale, or her eye less bright, Iremembered the sacrifice she had made me, and believed that she felt ittoo. It was in vain, that, with
a tender and generous devotion--neverfound but in woman--she assured me that my love was a recompense forall; the more touching was her tenderness, the more poignant my remorse.I never loved but her; I have never, therefore, entered into thecommon-place of passion, and I cannot, even to this day, look upon hersex as ours do in general. I thought, I think so still, that ingratitudeto a woman is often a more odious offence--I am sure it contains a morepainful penalty--than ingratitude to a man. But enough of this; if youknow me, you can penetrate the nature of my feelings--if not, it is invain to expect your sympathy.
"I never loved living long in one place. We travelled over the greaterpart of England and France. What must be the enchantment of love, whenaccompanied with innocence and joy, when, even in sin, in remorse, ingrief, it brings us a rapture to which all other things are tame. Oh!those were moments steeped in the very elixir of life; overflowing withthe hoarded fondness and sympathies of hearts too full for words, andyet too agitated for silence, when we journeyed alone, and at night, andas the shadows and stillness of the waning hours gathered round us, drewcloser to each other, and concentrated this breathing world in the deepand embracing sentiment of our mutual love! It was then that I laid myburning temples on her bosom, and felt, while my hand clasped her's,that my visions were realized, and my wandering spirit had sunk unto itsrest.
"I remember well that, one night, we were travelling through one of themost beautiful parts of England it was in the very height and flushof summer, and the moon (what scene of love--whether in reality, orromance--has any thing of tenderness, or passion, or divinity, where herlight is not!) filled the intense skies of June with her presence, andcast a sadder and paler beauty over Gertrude's cheek. She was always ofa melancholy and despondent temper; perhaps, for that reason, she wasmore congenial to my own; and when I gazed upon her that night, I wasnot surprised to see her eyes filled with tears. 'You will laugh at me,'she said, as I kissed them off, and inquired into the cause; 'but I feela presentiment that I cannot shake off; it tells me that you will travelthis road again before many months are past, and that I shall notbe with you, perhaps not upon the earth.' She was right in all herforeboding, but the suggestion of her death;--that came later.
"We took up our residence for some time at a beautiful situation, ashort distance from a small watering place. Here, to my great surprise,I met with Tyrrell. He had come there partly to see a relation from whomhe had some expectations, and partly to recruit his health, which wasmuch broken by his irregularities and excesses. I could not refuse torenew my old acquaintance with him, and, indeed, I thought him too muchof a man of the world, and of society, to feel with him that particulardelicacy, in regard to Gertrude, which made me in general shunall intercourse with my former friends. He was in great pecuniaryembarrassment--much more deeply so than I then imagined; for I believedthe embarrassment to be only temporary. However, my purse was then, asbefore, at his disposal, and he did not scruple to avail himselfvery largely of my offers. He came frequently to our house; and poorGertrude, who thought I had, for her sake, made a real sacrifice inrenouncing my acquaintance, endeavoured to conquer her usual diffidence,and that more painful feeling than diffidence, natural to her station,and even to affect a pleasure in the society of my friend, which she wasvery far from feeling.
"I was detained at--for several weeks by Gertrude's confinement. Thechild--happy being!--died a week after its birth. Gertrude was stillin bed, and unable to leave it, when I received a letter from Ellen, tosay, that my mother was then staying at Toulouse, and dangerously ill;if I wished once more to see her, Ellen besought me to lose no time insetting off for the continent. You may imagine my situation, or ratheryou cannot, for you cannot conceive the smallest particle of thatintense love I bore to Gertrude. To you--to any other man, it might seemno extraordinary hardship to leave her even for an uncertain period--tome it was like tearing away the very life from my heart.
"I procured her a sort of half companion, and half nurse; I provided forher every thing that the most anxious and fearful love could suggest;and with a mind full of forebodings too darkly to be realized hereafter,I hastened to the nearest seaport, and set sail for France.
"When I arrived at Toulouse my mother was much better, but still in avery uncertain and dangerous state of health. I stayed with her formore than a month, during which time every post brought me a line fromGertrude, and bore back a message from 'my heart to her's' in return.This was no mean consolation, more especially when each letter spoke ofincreasing health and strength. At the month's end, I was preparing toreturn--my mother was slowly recovering, and I no longer had any fearson her account; but, there are links in our destiny fearfully interwovenwith each other, and ending only in the anguish of our ultimate doom.The day before that fixed for my departure, I had been into a housewhere an epidemic disease raged; that night I complained of oppressiveand deadly illness--before morning I was in a high fever.
"During the time I was sensible of my state, I wrote constantly toGertrude, and carefully concealed my illness; but for several days I wasdelirious. When I recovered I called eagerly for my letters--there werenone--none! I could not believe I was yet awake; but days still passedon, and not a line from England--from Gertrude. The instant I was able,I insisted upon putting horses to my carriage; I could bear no longerthe torture of my suspense. By the most rapid journeys my debility wouldallow me to bear, I arrived in England. I travelled down to--by the sameroad that I had gone over with her; the words of her foreboding, atthat time, sunk like ice into my heart, 'You will travel this road againbefore many months are past, and I shall not be with you: perhaps, Ishall not be upon the earth.' At that thought I could have called untothe grave to open for me. Her unaccountable and lengthened silence,in spite of all the urgency and entreaties of my letters for a reply,filled me with presentiments the most fearful. Oh, God--oh, God, theywere nothing to the truth!
"At last I arrived at--; my carriage stopped at the very house--my wholeframe was perfectly frozen with dread--I trembled from limb to limb--theice of a thousand winters seemed curdling through my blood. The bellrung--once, twice--no answer. I would have leaped out of the carriage--Iwould have forced an entrance, but I was unable to move. A man fetteredand spell-bound by an incubus, is less helpless than I was. At last, anold female I had never seen before, appeared.
"'Where is she? How!' I could utter no more--my eyes were fixed upon theinquisitive and frightened countenance opposite to my own. Those eyes, Ithought, might have said all that my lips could not; I was deceived--theold woman understood me no more than I did her; another personappeared--I recognized the face--it was that of a girl, who had been oneof our attendants. Will you believe, that at that sight, the sight ofone I had seen before, and could associate with the remembrance of thebreathing, the living, the present Gertrude, a thrill of joy flashedacross me--my fears seemed to vanish--my spell to cease?
"I sprung from the carriage; I caught the girl by the robe. 'Yourmistress,' said I, 'your mistress--she is well--she is alive--speak,speak?' The girl shrieked out; my eagerness, and, perhaps, my emaciatedand altered appearance, terrified her; but she had the strong nervesof youth, and was soon re-assured. She requested me to step in, andshe would tell me all. My wife (Gertrude always went by that name), wasalive, and, she believed, well, but she had left that place some weekssince. Trembling, and still fearful, but, comparatively, in Heaven, tomy former agony, I followed the girl and the old woman into the house.
"The former got me some water. 'Now,' said I, when I had drank a longand hearty draught, 'I am ready to hear all--my wife has left thishouse, you say--for what place?' The girl hesitated and looked down;the old woman, who was somewhat deaf, and did not rightly understand myquestions, or the nature of the personal interest I had in the reply,answered,--'What does the gentleman want? the poor young lady who waslast here? Lord help her!'
"'What of her?' I called out, in a new alarm. 'What of her? Where hasshe gone? Who took her away?'
"'Who took her?' mumbled
the old woman, fretful at my impatient tone;'Who took her? why, the mad doctor, to be sure!'
"I heard no more; my frame could support no longer the agonies my mindhad undergone; I fell lifeless on the ground.
"When I recovered, it was in the dead of night. I was in bed, the oldwoman and the girl were at my side. I rose slowly and calmly. You know,all men who have ever suffered much, know the strange anomalies ofdespair--the quiet of our veriest anguish. Deceived by my bearing, Ilearned, by degrees, from my attendants, that Gertrude had some weekssince betrayed sudden symptoms of insanity; that these, in a very fewhours, arose to an alarming pitch.--From some reason the woman couldnot explain, she had, a short time before, discarded the companion I hadleft with her; she was, therefore, alone among servants. They sentfor the ignorant practitioners of the place; they tried their nostrumswithout success; her madness increased; her attendants, with thatsuperstitious horror of insanity, common to the lower classes, becamemore and more violently alarmed; the landlady insisted on her removal;and--and--I told you, Peham--I told you--they sent her away--sent her toa madhouse! All this I listened to!--all!--aye, and patiently! I noteddown the address of her present abode; it was about the distance oftwenty miles from--. I ordered fresh horses and set off immediately.
"I arrived there at day-break. It was a large, old house, which, like aFrench hotel, seemed to have no visible door; dark and gloomy, the pileappeared worthy of the purpose to which it was devoted. It was a longtime before we aroused any one to answer our call; at length, I wasushered into a small parlour--how minutely I remember every article inthe room; what varieties there are in the extreme passions! sometimesthe same feeling will deaden all the senses--sometimes render them ahundred fold more acute!--
"At last, a man of a smiling and rosy aspect appeared. He pointed to achair--rubbed his hands--and begged me to unfold my business; few wordssufficed to do that. I requested to see his patient; I demanded by whatauthority she had been put under his care. The man's face altered. Hewas but little pleased with the nature of my visit. 'The lady,' he said,coolly, 'had been entrusted to his care, with an adequate remuneration,by Mr. Tyrrell; without that gentleman's permission he could notthink even of suffering me to see her. I controlled my passion; I knewsomething, if not of the nature of private mad-houses, at least of thatof mankind. I claimed his patient as my wife; I expressed myself obligedby his care, and begged his acceptance of a further remuneration,which I tendered, and which was eagerly accepted. The way was nowcleared--there is no hell to which a golden branch will not win youradmittance.
"The man detained me no longer; he hastened to lead the way. We passedthrough various long passages; sometimes the low moan of pain andweakness came upon my ear--sometimes the confused murmur of the idiot'sdrivelling soliloquy. From one passage, at right angles with the onethrough which we proceeded, came a fierce and thrilling shriek; it sunkat once into silence--perhaps by the lash!
"We were now in a different department of the building--all wassilence--hushed deep--breathless: this seemed to me more awful than theterrible sounds I had just heard. My guide went slowly on, sometimesbreaking the stillness of the dim gallery by the jingle of hiskeys--sometimes by a muttered panegyric on himself and his humanity. Ineither heeded nor answered him.
"We read in the annals of the Inquisition, of every limb, nerve, sinewof the victim, being so nicely and accurately strained to their utmost,that the frame would not bear the additional screwing of a single hairbreadth. Such seemed my state. We came to a small door, at the righthand; it was the last but one in the passage. We paused before it.'Stop,' said I, 'for one moment:' and I was so faint and sick at heart,that I leaned against the wall to recover myself, before I let him openthe door: when he did, it was a greater relief than I can express,to see that all was utterly dark. 'Wait, Sir,' said the guide, as heentered; and a sullen noise told me that he was unbarring the heavyshutter.
"Slowly the grey cold light of the morning broke in: a dark figure wasstretched upon a wretched bed, at the far end of the room. She raisedherself at the sound. She turned her face towards me; I did not fall,nor faint, nor shriek; I stood motionless, as if fixed into stone; andyet it was Gertrude upon whom I gazed! Oh, Heaven! who but myself couldhave recognized her? Her cheek was as the cheek of the dead--the huelessskin clung to the bone--the eye was dull and glassy for one moment, thenext it became terribly and preternaturally bright--but not with the rayof intellect, or consciousness, or recognition. She looked long and hardat me; a voice, hollow and broken, but which still penetrated my heart,came forth through the wan lips, that scarcely moved with the exertion.'I am very cold,' it said--'but if I complain, you will beat me.' Shefell down again upon the bed, and hid her face.
"My guide, who was leaning carelessly by the window, turned to me witha sort of smirk--'This is her way, Sir,' he said; 'her madness is of avery singular description: we have not, as yet, been able to discoverhow far it extends; sometimes she seems conscious of the past, sometimesutterly oblivious of every thing: for days she is perfectly silent, or,at least, says nothing more than you have just heard; but, at times, sheraves so violently, that--that--but I never use force where it can behelped.'
"I looked at the man, but I could not answer, unless I had torn him topieces on the spot. I turned away hastily from the room; but I did notquit the house without Gertrude--I placed her in the carriage, by myside--notwithstanding all the protestations and fears of the keeper:these were readily silenced by the sum I gave him; it was large enoughto have liberated half his household. In fact, I gathered from hisconversation, that Tyrrell had spoken of Gertrude as an unhappy femalewhom he himself had seduced, and would now be rid of. I thank you,Pelham, for that frown, but keep your indignation till a fitter seasonfor it.
"I took my victim, for I then regarded her as such, to a secluded andlonely spot: I procured for her whatever advice England could afford;all was in vain. Night and day I was by her side, but she never, fora moment, seemed to recollect me: yet were there times of fierce andoverpowering delirium, when my name was uttered in the transport ofthe most passionate enthusiasm--when my features as absent, though notpresent, were recalled and dwelt upon with all the minuteness of themost faithful detail; and I knelt by her in all those moments, when noother human being was near, and clasped her wan hand, and wiped the dewfrom her forehead, and gazed upon her convulsed and changing face, andcalled upon her in a voice which could once have allayed her wildestemotions; and had the agony of seeing her eye dwell upon me with themost estranged indifference and the most vehement and fearful aversion.But ever and anon, she uttered words which chilled the very marrow ofmy bones; words which I would not, dared not believe, had any meaning ormethod in their madness--but which entered into my own brain, andpreyed there like the devouring of a fire. There was a truth in thoseravings--a reason in that incoherence--and my cup was not yet full.
"At last, one physician, who appeared to me to have more knowledge thanthe rest of the mysterious workings of her dreadful disease, advised meto take her to the scenes of her first childhood: 'Those scenes,' saidhe, justly, 'are in all stages of life, the most fondly remembered; andI have noted, that in many cases of insanity, places are easier recalledthan persons: perhaps, if we can once awaken one link in the chain, itwill communicate to the rest.'
"I took this advice, and set off to Norfolk. Her early home was not manymiles distant from the churchyard where you once met me, and in thatchurchyard her mother was buried. She had died before Gertrude's flight;the father's death had followed it: perhaps my sufferings were ajust retribution. The house had gone into other hands, and I had nodifficulty in engaging it. Thank Heaven, I was spared the pain of seeingany of Gertrude's relations.
"It was night when we moved to the house. I had placed within the roomwhere she used to sleep, all the furniture and books, with which itappeared, from my inquiries, to have been formerly filled. We laid herin the bed that had held that faded and altered form, in its freshestand purest years. I shrouded myself in on
e corner of the room, andcounted the dull minutes till the daylight dawned. I pass over thedetail of my recital--the experiment partially succeeded--would to Godthat it had not! would that she had gone down to her grave with herdreadful secret unrevealed! would--but--"
Here Glanville's voice failed him, and there was a brief silence beforehe recommenced.
"Gertrude now had many lucid intervals; but these my presence werealways sufficient to change into a delirious raving, even moreincoherent than her insanity had ever yet been. She would fly from mewith the most fearful cries, bury her face in her hands, and seem likeone oppressed and haunted by a supernatural visitation, as long as Iremained in the room; the moment I left her, she began, though slowly,to recover.
"This was to me the bitterest affliction of all--to be forbidden tonurse, to cherish, to tend her, was like taking from me my last hope!But little can the thoughtless or the worldly dream of the depths of areal love; I used to wait all day by her door, and it was luxury enoughto me to catch her accents or hear her move, or sigh, or even weep; andall night, when she could not know of my presence, I used to lie down byher bedside; and when I sank into a short and convulsed sleep, I saw heronce more, in my brief and fleeting dreams, in all the devoted love, andglowing beauty, which had once constituted the whole of my happiness,and my world.
"One day I had been called from my post by her door. They came to mehastily--she was in strong convulsions. I flew up stairs, and supportedher in my arms till the fits had ceased: we then placed her in bed; shenever rose from it again; but on that bed of death, the words, as wellas the cause, of her former insanity, were explained--the mystery wasunravelled.
"It was a still and breathless night. The moon, which was at itsdecrease, came through the half-closed shutters, and beneath its solemnand eternal light, she yielded to my entreaties, and revealed all. Theman--my friend--Tyrrell--had polluted her ear with his addresses, andwhen forbidden the house, had bribed the woman I had left with her,to convey his letters--she was discharged--but Tyrrell was no ordinaryvillain; he entered the house one evening, when no one but Gertrude wasthere--Come near me, Pelham--nearer--bend down your ear--he used force,violence! That night Gertrude's senses deserted her--you know the rest.
"The moment that I gathered, from Gertrude's broken sentences, theirmeaning, that moment the demon entered into my soul. All human feelingsseemed to fly from my heart; it shrunk into one burning, and thirsty,and fiery want--that was for revenge. I would have sprung from thebedside, but Gertrude's hand clung to me, and detained me; the damp,chill grasp, grew colder and colder--it ceased--the hand fell--Iturned--one slight, but awful shudder, went over that face, made yetmore wan, by the light of the waning and ghastly moon--one convulsionshook the limbs--one murmur passed the falling and hueless lips. Icannot tell you the rest--you know--you can guess it.
"That day week we buried her in the lonely churchyard--where she had, inher lucid moments, wished to lie--by the side of her mother."
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