Ormond; Or, The Secret Witness. Volume 3 (of 3)

by Charles Brockden Brown

  CHAPTER VI.

  Martynne, while ho expressed his confidence that the experiment wouldonly confirm his triumph, readily assented to the proposal, and theinterview above described took place, accordingly, the next morning. Hadhe not been taken by surprise, it is likely the address of a man whopossessed no contemptible powers would have extricated him from some ofhis embarrassment.

  That my portrait should be in the possession of one whom I had neverbefore seen, and whose character and manners entitled him to no respect,was a source of some surprise. This mode of multiplying faces isextremely prevalent in this age, and was eminently characteristic ofthose with whom I had associated in different parts of Europe. Thenature of my thoughts had modified my features into an expression whichmy friends were pleased to consider as a model for those who desired topersonify the genius of suffering and resignation.

  Hence, among those whose religion permitted their devotion to a pictureof a female, the symbols of their chosen deity were added to featuresand shape that resembled mine. My own caprice, as well as that ofothers, always dictated a symbolical, and, in every new instance, adifferent accompaniment of this kind. Hence was offered the means oftracing the history of that picture which Martynne possessed.

  It had been accurately examined by Miss Ridgeley, and her description ofthe frame in which it was placed instantly informed me that it was thesame which, at our parting, I left in the possession of Constantia. Myfriend and myself were desirous of employing the skill of a Saxonpainter, by name Eckstein. Each of us were drawn by him, she with thecincture of Venus, and I with the crescent of Dian. This symbol wasstill conspicuous on the brow of that image which Miss Ridgeley hadexamined, and served to identify the original proprietor.

  This circumstance tended to confirm my fears that Constantia was dead,since that she would part with this picture during her life was not tobe believed. It was of little moment to discover how it came into thehands of the present possessor. Those who carried her remains to thegrave had probably torn it from her neck and afterwards disposed of itfor money.

  By whatever means, honest or illicit, it had been acquired by Martynne,it was proper that it should be restored to me. It was valuable to me,because it had been the property of one whom I loved, and it might provehighly injurious to my fame and my happiness, as the tool of this man'svanity and the attestor of his falsehood. I therefore wrote him aletter, acquainting him with my reasons for desiring the repossession ofthis picture, and offering a price for it at least double its value as amere article of traffic. Martynne accepted the terms. He transmitted thepicture, and with it a note, apologizing for the artifice of which hehad been guilty, and mentioning, in order to justify his acceptance ofthe price which I had offered, that he had lately purchased it for anequal sum, of a goldsmith in Philadelphia.

  This information suggested a new reflection. Constantia had engaged topreserve, for the use of her friend, copious and accurate memorials ofher life. Copies of these were, on suitable occasions, to be transmittedto me during my residence abroad. These I had never received, but it washighly probable that her punctuality, in the performance of the firstpart of her engagement, had been equal to my own.

  What, I asked, had become of these precious memorials? In the wreck ofher property were these irretrievably engulfed? It was not probable thatthey had been wantonly destroyed. They had fallen, perhaps, into handscareless or unconscious of their value, or still lay, unknown andneglected, at the bottom of some closet or chest. Their recovery mightbe effected by vehement exertions, or by some miraculous accident.Suitable inquiries, carried on among those who were active in thosescenes of calamity, might afford some clue by which the fate of theDudleys, and the disposition of their property, might come into fullerlight. These inquiries could be made only in Philadelphia, and thither,for that purpose, I now resolved to repair. There was still an intervalof some weeks before the departure of the packet in which I proposed toembark.

  Having returned to the capital, I devoted all my zeal to my darlingproject. My efforts, however, were without success. Those whoadministered charity and succour during that memorable season, and whosurvived, could remove none of my doubts, nor answer any of myinquiries. Innumerable tales, equally disastrous with those which MissRidgeley had heard, were related; but, for a considerable period, noneof their circumstances were sufficiently accordant with the history ofthe Dudleys.

  It is worthy of remark, in how many ways, and by what complexity ofmotives, human curiosity is awakened and knowledge obtained. By itsconnection with my darling purpose, every event in the history of thismemorable pest was earnestly sought and deeply pondered. The powerfulconsiderations which governed me made me slight those punctiliousimpediments which, in other circumstances, would have debarred me fromintercourse with the immediate actors and observers. I found none whowere unwilling to expatiate on this topic, or to communicate theknowledge they possessed. Their details were copious in particulars andvivid in minuteness. They exhibited the state of manners, thediversified effects of evil or heroic passions, and the endless formswhich sickness and poverty assume in the obscure recesses of acommercial and populous city.

  Some of these details are too precious to be lost. It is above allthings necessary that we should be thoroughly acquainted with thecondition of our fellow-beings. Justice and compassion are the fruit ofknowledge. The misery that overspreads so large a part of mankind existschiefly because those who are able to relieve it do not know that itexists. Forcibly to paint the evil, seldom fails to excite the virtue ofthe spectator and seduce him into wishes, at least, if not intoexertions, of beneficence.

  The circumstances in which I was placed were, perhaps, wholly singular.Hence, the knowledge I obtained was more comprehensive and authenticthan was possessed by any one, even of the immediate actors orsufferers. This knowledge will not be useless to myself or to the world.The motives which dictated the present narrative will hinder me fromrelinquishing the pen till my fund of observation and experience beexhausted. Meanwhile, let me resume the thread of my tale.

  The period allowed me before my departure was nearly expired, and mypurpose seemed to be as far from its accomplishment as ever. One eveningI visited a lady who was the widow of a physician whose disinterestedexertions had cost him his life. She dwelt with pathetic earnestness onthe particulars of her own distress, and listened with deep attention tothe inquiries and doubts which I had laid before her.

  After a pause of consideration, she said that an incident like thatrelated by me she had previously heard from one of her friends, whosename she mentioned. This person was one of those whose office consistedin searching out the sufferers, and affording them unsought andunsolicited relief. She was offering to introduce me to this person,when he entered the apartment.

  After the usual compliments, my friend led the conversation as I wished.Between Mr. Thompson's tale and that related to Miss Ridgeley there wasan obvious resemblance. The sufferers resided in an obscure alley. Theyhad shut themselves up from all intercourse with their neighbours, andhad died, neglected and unknown. Mr. Thompson was vested with thesuperintendence of this district, and had passed the house frequentlywithout suspicion of its being tenanted.

  He was at length informed, by one of those who conducted a hearse, thathe had seen the window in the upper story of this house lifted and afemale show herself. It was night, and the hearseman chanced to bepassing the door. He immediately supposed that the person stood in needof his services, and stopped.

  This procedure was comprehended by the person at the window, who,leaning out, addressed him in a broken and feeble voice. She asked himwhy he had not taken a different route, and upbraided him for inhumanityin leading his noisy vehicle past her door. She wanted repose, but theceaseless rumbling of his wheels would not allow her the sweet respiteof a moment.

  This invective was singular, and uttered in a voice which united theutmost degree of earnestness with a feebleness that rendered it almostinarticulate. The man was at a loss for a suitab
le answer. His pauseonly increased the impatience of the person at the window, who calledupon him, in a still more anxious tone, to proceed, and entreated him toavoid this alley for the future.

  He answered that he must come whenever the occasion called him; thatthree persons now lay dead in this alley, and that he must beexpeditious in their removal; but that he would return as seldom andmake as little noise as possible.

  He was interrupted by new exclamations and upbraidings. These terminatedin a burst of tears, and assertions that God and man were herenemies,--that they were determined to destroy her; but she trusted thatthe time would come when their own experience would avenge her wrongs,and teach them some compassion for the misery of others. Saying this,she shut the window with violence, and retired from it, sobbing with avehemence that could be distinctly overheard by him in the street.

  He paused for some time, listening when this passion should cease. Thehabitation was slight, and he imagined that he heard her traversing thefloor. While he stayed, she continued to vent her anguish inexclamations and sighs and passionate weeping. It did not appear thatany other person was within.

  Mr. Thompson, being next day informed of these incidents, endeavoured toenter the house; but his signals, though loud and frequently repeated,being unnoticed, he was obliged to gain admission by violence. An oldman, and a female lovely in the midst of emaciation and decay, werediscovered without signs of life. The death of the latter appeared tohave been very recent.

  In examining the house, no traces of other inhabitants were to be found.Nothing serviceable as food was discovered, but the remnants of mouldybread scattered on a table. No information could be gathered fromneighbours respecting the condition and name of these unfortunatepeople. They had taken possession of this house during the rage of thismalady, and refrained from all communication with their neighbours.

  There was too much resemblance between this and the story formerlyheard, not to produce the belief that they related to the same persons.All that remained was to obtain directions to the proprietor of thisdwelling, and exact from him all that he knew respecting his tenants.

  I found in him a man of worth and affability. He readily related, that aman applied to him for the use of this house, and that the applicationwas received. At the beginning of the pestilence, a numerous familyinhabited this tenement, but had died in rapid succession. This newapplicant was the first to apprize him of this circumstance, andappeared extremely anxious to enter on immediate possession.

  It was intimated to him that danger would arise from the pestilentialcondition of the house. Unless cleansed and purified, disease would beunavoidably contracted. The inconvenience and hazard this applicant waswilling to encounter, and, at length, hinted that no alternative wasallowed him by his present landlord but to lie in the street or toprocure some other abode.

  "What was the external appearance of this person?"

  "He was infirm, past the middle age, of melancholy aspect and indigentgarb. A year had since elapsed, and more characteristic particulars hadnot been remarked, or were forgotten. The name had been mentioned, but,in the midst of more recent and momentous transactions, had vanishedfrom remembrance. Dudley, or Dolby, or Hadley, seemed to approach morenearly than any other sounds."

  Permission to inspect the house was readily granted. It had remained,since that period, unoccupied. The furniture and goods were scanty andwretched, and he did not care to endanger his safety by meddling withthem. He believed that they had not been removed or touched.

  I was insensible of any hazard which attended my visit, and, with theguidance of a servant, who felt as little apprehension as myself,hastened to the spot. I found nothing but tables and chairs. Clothingwas nowhere to be seen. An earthen pot, without handle, and broken,stood upon the kitchen-hearth. No other implement or vessel for thepreparation of food appeared.

  These forlorn appearances were accounted for by the servant, bysupposing the house to have been long since rifled of every thing worththe trouble of removal, by the villains who occupied the neighbouringhouses,--this alley, it seems, being noted for the profligacy of itsinhabitants.

  When I reflected that a wretched hovel like this had been, probably, thelast retreat of the Dudleys, when I painted their sufferings, of whichthe numberless tales of distress of which I had lately been an auditorenabled me to form an adequate conception, I felt as if to lie down andexpire on the very spot where Constantia had fallen was the onlysacrifice to friendship which time had left to me.

  From this house I wandered to the field where the dead had been,promiscuously and by hundreds, interred. I counted the long series ofgraves, which were closely ranged, and, being recently levelled,exhibited the appearance of a harrowed field. Methought I could havegiven thousands to know in what spot the body of my friend lay, that Imight moisten the sacred earth with my tears. Boards hastily nailedtogether formed the best receptacle which the exigencies of the timecould grant to the dead. Many corpses were thrown into a singleexcavation, and all distinctions founded on merit and rank wereobliterated. The father and child had been placed in the same cart andthrown into the same hole.

  Despairing, by any longer stay in the city, to effect my purpose, andthe period of my embarkation being near, I prepared to resume myjourney. I should have set out the next day, but, a family with whom Ihad made acquaintance expecting to proceed to New York within a week, Iconsented to be their companion, and, for that end, to delay mydeparture.

  Meanwhile, I shut myself up in my apartment, and pursued avocations thatwere adapted to the melancholy tenor of my thoughts. The day precedingthat appointed for my journey arrived. It was necessary to complete myarrangements with the family with whom I was to travel, and to settlewith the lady whose apartments I occupied.

  On how slender threads does our destiny hang! Had not a momentaryimpulse tempted me to sing my favourite ditty to the harpsichord, tobeguile the short interval during which my hostess was conversing withher visitor in the next apartment, I should have speeded to New York,have embarked for Europe, and been eternally severed from my friend,whom I believed to have died in frenzy and beggary, but who was aliveand affluent, and who sought me with a diligence scarcely inferior to myown. We imagined ourselves severed from each other by death or byimpassable seas; but, at the moment when our hopes had sunk to thelowest ebb, a mysterious destiny conducted our footsteps to the samespot.

  I heard a murmuring exclamation; I heard my hostess call, in a voice ofterror, for help; I rushed into the room; I saw one stretched on thefloor, in the attitude of death; I sprung forward and fixed my eyes uponher countenance; I clasped my hands and articulated, "Constantia!"

  She speedily recovered from her swoon. Her eyes opened; she moved, shespoke. Still methought it was an illusion of the senses that created thephantom. I could not bear to withdraw my eyes from her countenance. Ifthey wandered for a moment, I fell into doubt and perplexity, and againfixed them upon her, to assure myself of her existence.

  The succeeding three days were spent in a state of dizziness andintoxication. The ordinary functions of nature were disturbed. Theappetite for sleep and for food were confounded and lost amidst theimpetuosities of a master-passion. To look and to talk to each otherafforded enchanting occupation for every moment. I would not part fromher side, but eat and slept, walked and mused and read, with my armlocked in hers, and with her breath fanning my cheek.

  I have indeed much to learn. Sophia Courtland has never been wise. Heraffections disdain the cold dictates of discretion, and spurn at everylimit that contending duties and mixed obligations prescribe.

  And yet, O precious inebriation of the heart! O pre-eminent love! whatpleasure of reason or of sense can stand in competition with thoseattendant upon thee? Whether thou hiest to the fanes of a benevolentdeity, or layest all thy homage at the feet of one who most visiblyresembles the perfections of our Maker, surely thy sanction is divine,thy boon is happiness!