III
About four months after my first acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Crowder,I found myself again in New York; and when I called at the house of myfriends, I received from them a most earnest invitation to take up myabode with them during my stay in the city.
Of course this invitation was eagerly accepted; for not only was theCrowder house a home of the most charming hospitality, but my interest inthe extraordinary man who was evidently so glad to be my host was suchthat not one day had passed since I last saw him in which I did not thinkof him, and consider his marvelous statements from every point of viewwhich my judgment was capable of commanding. I found Mr. Crowderunchanged in appearance and manner, and his wife was the same charmingyoung woman I had known. But there was nothing surprising in this.People generally do not change very much in four months; and yet, intalking to Mr. Crowder, I could not prevent myself from earnestlyscanning his features to see if he had grown any older.
He noticed this, and laughed heartily. "It is natural enough," he said,"that you should wish to assure yourself that there is a good foundationto your belief in what I have told you; but you are in too great a hurry:you must wait some years for that sort of proof, one way or the other.But I believe that you do believe in me, and I am not in the leastdisturbed by the way you look at me."
After dinner, on the first day of my visit, when we were smokingtogether, I asked Mr. Crowder if he would not continue the recital of hisexperiences, which were of such absorbing interest to me that sometimes Ifound them occupying my mind to an extent which excluded the considerationof everything relating to myself and the present time.
"From one point of view," he said, "that would be a bad thing for you:but I don't look at it in that way; in fact, I hope you may become mybiographer. I will furnish you with material enough, and you can arrangeit and put it in shape; that is, if, in the course of a few years, youconsider that, in doing what I ask of you, you will be writing the truelife of a man, and not a collection of fanciful stories. So I hope youmay find that you have not lost your time when thinking so much of a manof the past."
Now, there is no doubt that I did most thoroughly believe in Crowder. Ihad argued with myself against this belief to the utmost extent of myability, and I had now given up the effort. If I should disbelieve himI would deprive myself of one of the most precious privileges of myexistence, and I did not intend to do so until I found myself absolutelyforced to admit that I was mistaken. Time would settle all this, and allthat I had to do now was to listen, enjoy, and be thankful for theopportunity.
"I am not going to tell any stories now," he said, "for my wife has notovercome her dislike to tobacco smoke, and she has insisted that sheshall be one of my hearers when I tell stories of my past life to you;but I can tell you this, my friend: she will believe every word I say;there can be no possible doubt of that. I have told her a good many thingssince I saw you last, and her faith in me is a joy unspeakable."
Of course I was delighted to hear that this charming lady was to be myfellow-auditor, and said so.
"I often think of you two," said Mr. Crowder, contemplatively leaningback in his arm-chair. "I think of you together, but I am bound to saythat the thought is not altogether pleasant." I showed my amazement atthis remark. "It can't be helped," he said; "it can't be helped. It'sone of the things I have to suffer. I have suffered it over and overagain thousands of times, but I never get used to it. Here you are, twoyoung people, young enough to be my children: one is my wife; the other,I am proud to say, my best friend. You are the only persons in the worldwho know my story. You have faith in me, and the thought of that faith isthe greatest pleasure of my life. Year by year you two will grow older;year by year you will more nearly approach my own age, and become,according to the ordinary opinion of the world, more suitable companionsfor me. Then you will reach my age. We shall be three gray-haired friends.Then will come the saddening time, the mournful days. You two will growolder and older, and I shall remain where I am--always fifty-three. Thenyou will grow to be elderly--elderly people; at last, aged people. If youlive long enough I shall look up to you as I would to my parents."
This was a state of things I had never contemplated. I could scarcelyappreciate it.
"Of course," he continued, "I wish you both to live long; but don't yousee how it affects me? But enough of that. Here comes Mrs. Crowder, andwith her all subjects must be pleasant ones."
"I think thee must buy some short cigars," she said, just putting herhead inside the door, "to smoke after dinner. If large ones are necessary,they can be smoked after I go to bed. I am getting very impatient; for nowthat Mr. Randolph is here, I believe that thee is going to be unusuallyinteresting."
We arose immediately, and joined Mrs. Crowder in the library.
This lady's use of the plain speech customary with Quakers was verypleasant to me. I had had but little acquaintance with it, and at first itsindependence of grammatical rules struck upon me unpleasantly; but I soonbegan to enjoy Mrs. Crowder's speech, when she was addressing her husband,much more than I did the remarks she made to me, the latter being alwayscouched in the most correct English. There was a sweetness about her"thee" which had the quality of gentle music; and when she used the word"thy" it was pronounced so much like "thee" that I could scarcely perceivethe difference. To her husband and child she always used the Quaker speechof the present day; and as I did not like being set aside in this way, Isaid to her that I hoped there was no rule of the Society of Friends whichwould compel her to make a change in her form of speech when she addressedme. "If thee likes," she said, with a smile, "thee is welcome to all theplain speech thee wants." And after that, when she spoke to me, she didnot turn me out among the world's people.
"Now, you know," said Mr. Crowder, "that I'm not going to play the partof an historian. That sort of discourse would bore me, and it would boreyou. If there is any kind of thing that you would like to hear about,all you have to do is to ask me; and if you don't care to do this, I willtell you whatever comes up in my memory, without any regard to chronologyor geography, just as I talked to you before. If I were to begin at thebeginning and go straight along, even if I skipped ever so much, thestory would--it would be a great deal too long."
I am sure that Mrs. Crowder and I both felt what he did not wish tosay--that we were not likely to live to hear it all.
"There are a great many things I should like to ask thee," said Mrs.Crowder, speaking quickly, as if to change the subject of her thoughts;"but I believe I have forgotten most of them. But here is something Ishould like to know--that is," she said, turning to me, "if thee hasn'tanything in thy mind which thee wishes to ask about?"
I noticed that she pronounced "thy" very distinctly, a little bit ofgrammatical conscience probably obtruding itself. Of course, I hadnothing to ask, and she put her question: "What _did_ thee do inthe dark ages?"
Crowder laughed. "That is a big question," said he, "and the only answerI can give you in a general way is that there were so many things thatI was not able to do, or did not dare to do, that I look upon thosecenturies as the most disagreeable part of my whole life. But you mustnot suppose that everybody felt as I did. A great many of the people bywhom I was surrounded at that doleful period appeared to be happier andbetter satisfied with their circumstances than any I have known beforeor after. There was little ambition, less responsibility; and if the poorand weak suffered from the rapacity and violence of the rich and strong,they accepted their misfortunes as if they were something they were boundto expect, such as bad weather. I am not going to talk history, and thereis one thing that your question reminds me of. During that portion of themiddle ages which is designated as dark, I employed myself in a great manydifferent ways: I was laborer, sailor, teacher, and I cannot tell you whatbesides; but more frequently than anything else I was a teacher."
"Thee must have been an angel of light," Mrs. Crowder remarked.
"No," said he; "an angel of light would have been very conspicuous inthose days. I didn't
pose for such a part. In fact, if I had notsucceeded in appearing like a partial ignoramus I should have beenobliged to go into a monastery, for in those days the monks were the onlypeople who knew anything. They expected to do all the teaching that wasdone; but, for all that, a few scholars cropped up now and then, and hereand there, who did not care to have monks for masters; and by instructingthese in a very modest, quiet way I frequently managed to make a living."
"I should think," I said, "that at any time and in any period you wouldhave been a person of importance, with your experience and knowledge ofmen."
Mr. Crowder shook his head. "No," said he; "not so. To make myself ofimportance in that time I must have been a soldier, and the profession ofarms, you know, is one I have always avoided. A man who cannot be killedshould take care that he be not wounded."
"I am so glad that thee did take care," ejaculated Mrs. Crowder; "buteven I cannot see how thee kept out of fighting in those disorderlytimes."
"I did not keep out of it altogether, but in every possible way I triedto do so, and for the most part succeeded. Whenever I was likely to beinvolved in military operations, I let my hair and beard grow, and thewhite-haired old man was usually exempted. I have had far more experiencein keeping out of battles than any other human being has had in the artof winning them. But what you two want is a story, and I will give youone.
"During some of the earlier years of the seventh century, I was livingin Ravenna, and there I had three or four scholars whom I taughtoccasionally. I did not dare to keep a regular school, with fixed hoursand all that; but while I was not working at my trade, which was thenthat of a mason, I gave lessons to some young people in the neighborhood.Sometimes I taught in the evening, sometimes in bad weather when we didnot work out of doors. No one of my scholars showed any intelligence,except a girl about eighteen years old. Her father, I think, was aprofessional robber, for his family lived very well, and he was generallyabsent from home at the head of a little band of desperate fellows, ofwhom there were a great many in that region.
"This girl, whose name was Rina, had an earnest desire for knowledge, andshowed a great capacity for imbibing it and retaining it. In fact, Ibelieve she was the most intelligent person in that region."
"Was she pretty?" asked Mrs. Crowder.
"Yes," replied her husband; "she was very good-looking. I was sointerested in her desire for knowledge that I taught her a great dealmore than I would have dared to teach anybody else; and the more I taught,the more she wanted to learn.
"I soon became very much concerned about Rina. Some man of theneighborhood, old or young, would be sure to marry her before very long,and then there would be an end of the development of what I consideredthe brightest intellect of the day."
"So to keep that from happening to her, thee married her thyself?" askedMrs. Crowder.
Her husband smiled. "Yes; that is what I did. You know," he said,addressing me, "that I believe that Mrs. Crowder takes more interest inmy marriages than in anything else I have done in the course of mycareer."
"Certainly I do," she said, with a little flush. "Of course thee had to bemarried, and it is natural enough that I should want to know whom theemarried, and all about it."
"Well," said Mr. Crowder, "we must get on with this. A priest with whomI was acquainted married us, and we immediately fled from Ravenna. After ayear or two of wandering through benighted countries where even kingsand rulers could not write their names, and where reading seemed to be alost art, except in the monasteries, we made up our minds, if possible,we would go from darkness into light, and so we set out on a journey toChina."
At this statement Mrs. Crowder and I looked surprised.
"I don't wonder you open your eyes," said he. "It must seem odd to you,unless you are very familiar with the history of the period, that weshould go from Europe to China in search of enlightenment andcivilization; but that is what we did, and we found what we looked for.As the Pope had sent an envoy to China, and as some Nestorianmissionaries had gone there, I believed that we could go.
"This journey to the Chinese province of Nan-hae occupied the greaterpart of five years; but to me personally that was of no account, for Ihad time enough. Although we passed through all sorts of hardships anddangers, my wife was greatly interested in the strange things and peopleshe met. Sometimes we traveled by water, sometimes on horses and asses,and very often we walked. During the last part of the journey we joineda caravan which went through central Asia.
"At that time China was ruled by a woman, the Empress Woo. For a longtime back there had been a period of great intellectual activity in China.Literature and the arts flourished, and while the great personages ofEurope did not know how to write, these people were printing from woodenblocks.
"The empress was a remarkable woman. She had been one of the widows of amonarch, and when his son succeeded to the throne she married him. She hadgreat ambition and great ability. She put down her enemies, and she putherself forward. She took her husband's place in all the imperialconsultations and decisions, and very soon set him aside, and for fortyyears was actual ruler of the empire.
"She was a great woman, this Empress Woo. Very little happened in herdominions that she did not know, and when two wanderers arrived from thefar and unknown West, she sent for me and my wife to appear before her atthe palace. We were received with much favor, for we could do her nopossible harm, and she was very eager for knowledge. My wife was an objectof great curiosity to her, as she was so different from the Chinese women.But as poor Rina could never acquire a word of the language of the country,the empress soon ceased to take interest in her. As I was always very goodat picking up languages, she had me at the palace a great deal, asking allsorts of questions about the Western countries and people. I was also ableto tell her much about bygone ages, which information she thought,of course, I had acquired by reading.
"'ASKING ALL SORTS OF QUESTIONS.'"]
"One day the empress asked me about the marriage customs in the West,and wanted to know how many wives a man could have in our country. Sheseemed to be so much in earnest, as she spoke, that I was frightened.I did not know what to answer. But fortunately one of her generals wasannounced, and she did not press the question. As I was leaving thepalace, one of the officers of the court took me aside, and told me thatthe empress was thinking of marrying me, and that I had better put on somefine clothes when I came again. This was terrible news, but I was bound totell my wife, and we sat up all night talking about it. To escape fromthat region would have been impossible. We were obliged to stay and facethe inevitable, whatever it might be.
"The question which Rina and I had to decide was a very simple one, butterribly difficult for all that. If I should tell the empress that menof my country believed that it was right to have but one wife, Rina wouldquickly be disposed of; so she had to decide whether she would prefer todie so that I might marry the empress, or to preserve her life and loseher undivided possession of a husband."
"I know what I would have done," said Mrs. Crowder, her eyes very bright;"I would have let her kill me. I would never have consented for thee tomarry the wretch."
"That would have pleased her," said Mr. Crowder; "for she would have hadme all the same, and you would have been out of the way."
"Then I would not have died," said the little Quakeress, almost fiercely;"I would not have done anything to please her. But I don't know. What didthee and thy wife do?"
"We talked and talked and talked," said Mr. Crowder, "and at last Ipersuaded her to live; that is to say, not to make herself an obstacleto the wishes of the empress. It was a terrible trial, but she consented.The more insignificant she became, I told her, the greater her chancesof safety.
"The next day the empress sent for me, as I was sure she would do.
"'You did not tell me,' she said, 'how many wives your men have.' 'Thatall depends upon the will of our sovereign,' I replied; 'in matrimonialaffairs we do as we are commanded. When we have no commands from thethrone, our circum
stances regulate the matter.'"
"Thee did tell a dreadful lie while thee was about it," said Mrs. Crowder,"but I suppose thee had to."
"You are right there," said her husband; "and my answer pleased theempress. 'That is what I like,' she said. 'The monarch should settle allthese matters. I hope some day to settle them in this country.' Then,without any hesitation or preface, she announced her intention of marryingme. 'I greatly need,' she said, 'a learned man for an imperial consort.My present husband knows nothing. I never trust him with any affairs ofstate. But I have never asked you anything to which you did not give mea satisfactory answer.' Now, my dear," said Mr. Crowder, "you see thereward of vanity. If I had pretended to be a fool instead of aspiring tobe a philosopher and an historian, I should never have attracted theinterest of the queen."
"And did thee marry her?" asked his wife. "I do so pity poor Rina!"
"I'll tell you how it turned out," he continued. "After pressing me agood deal, the empress said: 'I had intended to marry you in a few days,or as soon as the preparations could be made; but I have now postponedthat ceremony. I find that military affairs must occupy me for some time,and it would be better for me at present to marry one of my generals. Amilitary man is what the country needs. But I shall want a counselor ofyour sort very soon, so you must hold yourself ready to marry me wheneverI shall notify you.'
"My instincts prompted me to ask her what the imperial general might beapt to think about the increase in her matrimonial forces, but I was wiseenough to hold my tongue. When the general should cease to be of use toher, I knew very well that he would not be likely to offer opposition toanything on earth."
"How glad I am," ejaculated Mrs. Crowder, "that thee didn't ask anyquestions, and that thee consented to everything the wicked creaturesaid!"
"So am I," he replied; "and I was glad to get out of that palace, which Inever entered again. From that day I began to grow old as fast as Icould. My hair and beard became very long; I ate but little; I stoopedmore and more each day, and walked with a staff. I began to be veryforgetful when people asked me questions. About a year afterward thequeen saw me. I was in the crowd near the palace, where I had purposelygone that I might be seen. She looked at me, but gave no sign that sherecognized me. The next day an officer came to me, and roughly told methat the empress had no use for dotards in her dominions, and that thesooner I went away the better for me. I afterward heard that the executionof two strangers had been ordered, but that a certain superstition in themind of the empress had prevented this. She had heard, through personswho had met the Nestorians, that people of our country were protected insome strange manner which she did not understand.
"'AND ROUGHLY TOLD ME.'"]
"Rina and I could not leave China, for I had now no money; but we wentto a distant province, where I lived for more than ten years, passing asa Chinaman."
"And Rina--poor Rina?" asked Mrs. Crowder.
"She soon died," said her husband. "She was in a state of fear nearly allthe time. She could not speak the language, and it may be said that shegave up her life in her pursuit of knowledge. In this respect she was aswonderful a woman as was the Empress Woo."
"And a thousand times better," said Mrs. Crowder, earnestly. "And then?"
"Then," said her husband, "I married a Chinese woman."
"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Crowder, her eyes almost round.
"Yes, my dear; it was a great deal safer for me to be married, and tobecome as nearly as possible like the people by whom I was surrounded."
"But thee didn't have several wives, did thee?" asked Mrs. Crowder.
"Oh, no," he answered; "I was too poor for anything of that kind to beexpected of me. When an opportunity came to join a caravan and get away,I took my Chinese wife with me, and eventually reached Arabia. There westayed for a long time, for I found it impossible to prosecute myjourneying. Eventually, however, we reached the island of Malta, wheremy wife lived to be over seventy. Travel, hardships, and danger seemedto agree with her. She never spoke any language but her own, and as shewas of a quiet disposition, and took no interest in the things she saw,she generally passed as an imbecile. But she was the first Chinese womanwho ever visited Europe."
"I guess thee was very sorry thee brought her before thee got throughwith her. I don't approve of that matrimonial alliance at all," saidMrs. Crowder.
During this and succeeding evenings of narration, it must not be supposedI sat silent, making no remarks upon what I heard; but, in fact, what Isaid was of hardly any importance, and certainly not worth introducinginto this account of Mr. Crowder's experiences. But the effect of hiswords upon Mrs. Crowder, as shown both by the play of her features and herfrequent questions and exclamations, interested me almost as much as thestatements of my host. I had previously known her as the gentlest, thesweetest, and the most attractive of my female acquaintances; but now Ifound her to be a woman of keen intellect and quick appreciation. Herremarks, which were very frequent, and which I shall not always record,were like seasoning and spice to the narrative of Mr. Crowder. Neverbefore had a wife heard such stories from a husband, and there never couldhave been a woman who would have heard them with such religious faith.Naturally, she showed me a most friendly confidence. The fact that we wereboth the loyal disciples of one master was a bond between us. He was somuch older than either of us, and he regarded us sometimes with whatlooked so much like parental affection, that it would not have beensurprising if persons, not believers as we were, should have entertainedthe idea that, in course of time, he would pass away, and that we twoshould be left to comfort each other as well as we might. But I, who hadheard my friend speak of the coming years, could not forget the picture hehad drawn of two aged and feeble people, looked up to in love andveneration by a fresh and hearty man of fifty-three.
"Thee never seemed to have any trouble in getting married," said Mrs.Crowder. "Did thee ever stay an old bachelor any length of time?"
Crowder laughed. Such questions from his wife amused him very much.
"I was thinking of changing the subject," said he, "and was about to tellyou something which had not anything to do with wives and marriages.I thought you might be tired of that sort of thing."
"Not at all," said she, quickly; "that's just what I want to hear."
"Very well," answered he; "I will give you a little instance of one ofmy failures in love-making.
"It was long before my visit to Empress Woo; in fact, it was about elevenhundred years before Christ, and I was living in Syria, where I wasteaching school in the little town of Timnath. I became very muchinterested in one of the girls of my class. She was a good deal olderthan any of the others; in fact, she was a young woman. She had a brightmind, and was eager to learn, and I naturally became interested in her;and in the course of time she pleased me so much that I determined tomarry her."
"It seems thee was in the habit of marrying thy scholars," said Mrs.Crowder.
"There is nothing very strange in that," he replied; "a schoolmasterusually becomes very well acquainted with some of his scholars, and if agirl pleases him very much it is not surprising that he should prefer tomarry her, or, at least, to try to, than to go out among comparativestrangers to look for a wife."
"If I had been in thy place," said Mrs. Crowder, reflectively, "sometimesI would have enjoyed a long rest of bachelordom; it would have been avariety."
"Oh, I have had variety of that kind," said he. "For many succeedingdecades I have been widower, or bachelor, whichever you choose to callit.
"As I was saying, this girl pleased me very much. She was good-looking,bright, and witty, and her dark, flashing eyes won her a great deal ofattention from the young men of the place; but she would not haveanything to do with them. They could not boast much in regard tointelligence or education, nor were any of them in very goodcircumstances; and so, in spite of my years, she seemed to take verykindly to me, and I made up my mind I would marry her the approachingautumn. I had some money, and there was a house with a piece of
landfor sale near the town. This I planned to buy, and to settle down asan agriculturist. I was tired of school-teaching."
"No wonder," said Mrs. Crowder, "as thee intended to take out of itits principal attraction."
"We were walking, one evening, over the fields, talking of astronomy,in which she took a great interest, when we saw a man approaching who wasevidently a stranger. He was a fellow of medium height, but he gave theimpression of great size and vigor. As he came nearer, striding over therough places, and paying no attention to paths, I saw that he was verybroad-shouldered, with a heavy body and thick neck. His legs were probablyof average size, but they looked somewhat small in comparison with hisbody and his long arms, which swung by his sides as he walked. He was ayoung man, bushy-bearded, with bright and observant eyes. As he passed us,he looked very hard at my companion, and, I am sorry to say, she turnedher head and gazed steadfastly at him.
"'SHE TURNED HER HEAD.'"]
"'That's a fine figure of a man,' she said. 'He looks strong enough foranything.'
"I didn't encourage her admiration. 'He might be made useful on a farm,'I said; 'if his legs were as big as the rest of him, he could draw a plowas well as an ox.'
"She made no answer to this; but her interest in astronomy seemed todecrease, and she soon proposed that we should turn back to the town. Onthe way we met the stranger again, and this time he stopped and asked ussome questions about the country and the neighborhood. All the time wewere talking he and my scholar were looking at each other, and each ofthem seemed entirely satisfied with the survey. The next day the girl wasvery inattentive at school, and in the afternoon, when I hoped to takea walk with her, I could not find her, and went out by myself. Beforelong I saw her sitting under a tree, talking to the stranger ofyesterday."
"She was a regular flirt," said Mrs. Crowder.
"Apparently she was," replied her husband; "but although I might haveexcused her, considering how much better suited this stranger was to her,in point of years at least, I was not willing to withdraw and leave herto another, especially as he might be a person entirely unworthy of her.
"I did not disturb them, but I went back to the town and made someinquiries about the stranger. I found that he was a Danite, and livedwith his parents in Zorah, and that his name was Samson. I also learnedthat his family was possessed of considerable means.
"It soon became plain that it would not be easy for me to carry out mymarriage plans and settle down among my vines and fig-trees. Samson wenthome, told his parents of his desire to marry this girl, and in thecourse of time they all came down to Timnath and made regular matrimonialpropositions to her parents."
"Was this the great Samson who tore lions apart and threw down temples?"asked Mrs. Crowder, in amazement.
"The very man," was the reply; "and he was the most formidable rival Iever had in that sort of affair. The proper thing for me to do, accordingto the custom of the times, would have been to take him aside, as soonas I found that he was paying attentions to my sweetheart, and fight him;but the more I looked at him and his peculiar proportions, the more I wasconvinced that he was not a man with whom I wanted to fight."
"I should think not," said Mrs. Crowder. "How glad I am thee nevertouched him!"
"The result might not have been disastrous to me," he said; "for althoughI have always avoided military matters as much as possible, I was probablybetter versed in the use of a sword than he was. But I did not care tokill him, and from what I heard of him afterward, I am sure that if he hadever got those long arms around me I should have been a mass of brokenbones.
"So, taking everything into consideration, I gave up my plan to marrythis girl of Timnath; and I was afterward very glad I did so, for sheproved a tricky creature, and entered into a conspiracy to deceive herhusband, actually weeping before him seven days in order to worm out ofhim the secret of his strength."
"I suppose thee never met Delilah?" asked Mrs. Crowder.
"Oh, no," he answered; "before Samson was married I left that part of theworld, and I did not make the acquaintance of the attractive young personwho was so successful in the grand competition of discovering the sourceof Samson's strength. In fact, it was nearly a hundred years after thatbefore I heard of those great exploits of Samson which have given himsuch widespread fame."
"I am glad thee never met Delilah," said Mrs. Crowder, reflectively;"for thee, too, was possessed of a great secret, and she might have gainedit from thee."
The Vizier of the Two-Horned Alexander Page 3