The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No 3, September, 1862
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Various >> The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No 3, September, 1862
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'My companion tinkled a small bell that lay upon a little uncovered
table in the hall, (the outer door having been entirely unfastened, to
all appearance,) and a slattern girl came out from an inner room. On
recognizing my companion, who had visited the house before, she led the
way without a word to the same room she had herself just quitted. There
was nothing remarkable in this. A shabby table, and two or three still
more shabby chairs, occupied the room, and a dark wax-taper stood on the
table, while at the side opposite the single window a curtain of some
dark stuff shut in almost one entire side of the apartment. We took
seats on the rickety chairs, and waited in silence, Adolph informing me
that the etiquette (strange name for such a place) of the house did not
allow of conversation, not with the proprietors, carried on in that
apartment sacred to the divine mysteries.
'Perhaps fifteen minutes had elapsed, and I had grown fearfully tired of
waiting, when the corner of the curtain was suddenly thrown back, and
the figure of a woman stood in the space thus created. Every thing
behind her seemed to be in darkness; but some description of bright
light, which did not show through the curtain at all, and which seemed
almost dazzling enough to be Calcium or Drummond, shed its rays directly
upon her side-face, throwing every feature from brow to chin into bold
relief, and making every fold of her dark dress visible. But I scarcely
saw the dress, the face being so remarkable beyond any thing I had ever
witnessed. I had looked to see an old, wrinkled hag--it being the
general understanding that all witches and fortune-tellers must be long
past the noon of life; but instead, I saw a woman who could not have
been over thirty-five or forty, with a figure of regal magnificence, and
a face that would have been, but for one circumstance, beautiful beyond
description. Apelles never drew and Phidias never chiseled nose or brow
of more classic perfection, and I have never seen the bow of Cupid in
the mouth of any woman more ravishingly shown than in that feature of
the countenance of the sorceress.
'I said that but for one circumstance, that face would have been
beautiful beyond description. And yet no human eye ever looked upon a
face more hideously fearful than it was in reality. Even a momentary
glance could not be cast upon it without a shudder, and a longer gaze
involved a species of horrible fascination which affected one like a
nightmare. You do not understand yet what was this remarkable and most
hideous feature. I can scarcely find words to describe it to you so that
you can catch the full force of the idea--I must try, however. You have
often seen Mephistopheles in his flame-colored dress, and caught some
kind of impression that the face was of the same hue, though the fact
was that it was of the natural color, and only affected by the lurid
character of the dress and by the Satanic penciling of the eyebrows! You
have? Well, this face was really what that seemed for the moment to be.
It was redder than blood-red as fire, and yet so strangely did the
flame-color play through it that you knew no paint laid upon the skin
could have produced the effect. It almost seemed that the skin and the
whole mass of flesh were transparent, and that the red color came from
some kind of fire or light within, as the red bottle in a druggist's
window might glow when you were standing full in front of it, and the
gas was turned on to full height behind. Every feature--brow, nose,
lips, chin, even the eyes themselves, and their very pupil seemed to be
pervaded and permeated by this lurid flame; and it was impossible for
the beholder to avoid asking himself whether there were indeed spirits
of flame--salamandrines--who sometimes existed out of their own element
and lived and moved as mortals.
'Have I given you a strange and fearful picture? Be sure that I have not
conveyed to you one thousandth part of the impression made upon myself,
and that until the day I die that strange apparition will remain stamped
upon the tablets of my mind. Diabolical beauty! infernal ugliness!--I
would give half my life, be it longer or shorter, to be able to explain
whence such things can come, to confound and stupefy all human
calculation!'
CHAPTER II.
MORE OF PARISIAN FORTUNE-TELLERS--THE VISIONS OF THE WHITE
MIST--REBELLION, GRIEF, HOPE, BRAVERY AND DESPAIR
It was after a second bottle of green-seal had flashed out its sparkles
into the crystal, that Ned Martin drew a long breath like that drawn by
a man discharging a painful and necessary duty, and resumed his story:
'You may some time record this for the benefit of American men and
women,' he went on, 'and if you are wise you will deal chiefly in the
language to which they are accustomed. I speak the French, of course,
nearly as well and as readily as the English; but I _think_ in my native
tongue, as most men continue to do, I believe, no matter how many
dialects they acquire; and I shall not interlard this little narrative
with any French words that can just as well be translated into our
vernacular.
'Well, as I was saying, there stood my horribly beautiful fiend, and
there I sat spell-bound before her. As for Adolph, though he had told me
nothing in advance of the peculiarities of her appearance, he had been
fully aware of them, of course, and I had the horrible surprise all to
myself. I think the sorceress saw the mingled feeling in my face, and
that a smile blended of pride and contempt contorted the proud features
and made the ghastly face yet more ghastly for one moment. If so, the
expression soon passed away, and she stood, as before, the incarnation
of all that was terrible and mysterious. At length, still retaining her
place and fixing her eyes upon Von Berg, she spoke, sharply, brusquely,
and decidedly:
''You are here again! What do you want?'
''I wish to introduce my friend, the Baron Charles Denmore, of England,'
answered Von Berg, 'who wishes----'
''Nothing!' said the sorceress, the word coming from her lips with an
unmistakably hissing sound. He wants nothing, and he is _not_ the Baron
Charles Denmore! He comes from far away, across the sea, and he would
not have come here to-night but that you insisted upon it! Take him
away--go away yourself--and never let me see you again unless you have
something to ask or you wish me to do you an injury!'
''But----' began Yon Berg.
''Not another word!' said the sorceress, 'I have said. Go, before you
repent having come at all!'
''Madame,' I began to say, awed out of the feeling at least of equality
which I should have felt to be proper under such circumstances, and only
aware that Adolph, and possibly myself, had incurred the enmity of a
being so near to the supernatural as to be at least dangerous--'Madame,
I hope that you will not think----'
'But here she cut _me_ short, as she had done Von Berg the instant
before.
''Hope nothing, young artist!' she said, her voice perceptibly less
harsh and brusque than it had been when speaking to my companion. 'Hope
nothing and ask nothing until you may have occasion; then come to me.'
''And then?'
''Then I will answer every question you may think proper to put to me.
Stay! you may have occasion to visit me sooner than you suppose, or I
may have occasion to force knowledge upon you that you will not have the
boldness to seek. If so, I shall send for you. Now go, both of you!'
'The dark curtain suddenly fell, and the singular vision faded with the
reflected light which had filled the room. The moment after, I heard the
shuffling feet of the slattern girl coming to show us out of the room,
but, singularly enough, as you will think, not out of the _house_!
Without a word we followed her--Adolph, who knew the customs of the
place, merely slipping a five-franc piece into her hand, and in a moment
more we were out in the street and walking up the Rue Saint Denis. It is
not worth while to detail the conversation which followed between us as
we passed up to the Rue Marie Stuart, I to my lodgings and Adolph to his
own, further on, close to the Rue Vivienne, and not far from the
Boulevard Montmartre. Of course I asked him fifty questions, the replies
to which left me quite as much in the dark as before. He knew, he said,
and hundreds of other persons in Paris knew, the singularity of the
personal appearance of the sorceress, and her apparent power of
divination, but neither he nor they had any knowledge of her origin. He
had been introduced at her house several months before, and had asked
questions affecting his family in Prussia and the chances of descent of
certain property, the replies to which had astounded him. He had heard
of her using marvelous and fearful incantations, but had never himself
witnessed any thing of them. In two or three instances, before the
present, he had taken friends to the house and introduced them under any
name which he chose to apply to them for the time, and the sorceress had
never before chosen to call him to account for the deception, though,
according to the assurances of his friends after leaving the house, she
had never failed to arrive at the truth of their nationalities and
positions in life. There must have been something in myself or my
circumstances, he averred, which had produced so singular an effect upon
the witch, (as he evidently believed her to be,) and he had the
impression that at no distant day I should again hear from her. That was
all, and so we parted, I in any other condition of mind than that
promising sleep, and really without closing my eyes, except for a moment
or two at a time, during the night which followed. When I did attempt to
force myself into slumber, a red spectre stood continually before me, an
unearthly light seemed to sear my covered eyeballs, and I awoke with a
start. Days passed before I sufficiently wore away the impression to be
comfortable, and at least two or three weeks before my rest became again
entirely unbroken.
'You must be partially aware with what anxiety we Americans temporarily
sojourning on the other side of the Atlantic, who loved the country we
had left behind on this, watched the succession of events which preceded
and accompanied the Presidential election of that year. Some suppose
that a man loses his love for his native land, or finds it comparatively
chilled within his bosom, after long residence abroad. The very opposite
is the case, I think! I never knew what the old flag was, until I saw it
waving from the top of an American consulate abroad, or floating from
the gaff of one of our war-vessels, when I came down the mountains to
some port on the Mediterranean. It had been merely red, white and blue
bunting, at home, where the symbols of our national greatness were to be
seen on every hand: it was the _only_ symbol of our national greatness
when we were looking at it from beyond the sea; and the man whose eyes
will not fill with tears and whose throat will not choke a little with
overpowering feeling, when catching sight of the Stars and Stripes where
they only can be seen to remind him of the glory of the country of which
he is a part, is unworthy the name of patriot or of man!
'But to return: Where was I? Oh! I was remarking with what interest we
on the other side of the water watched the course of affairs at home
during that year when the rumble of distant thunder was just heralding
the storm. You are well aware that without extensive and long-continued
connivance on the part of sympathizers among the leading people of
Europe--England and France especially--secession could never have been
accomplished so far as it has been; and there never could have been any
hope of its eventual success if there had been no hope of one or both
these two countries bearing it up on their strong and unscrupulous arms.
The leaven of foreign aid to rebellion was working even then, both in
London and Paris; and perhaps we had opportunities over the water for a
nearer guess at the peril of the nation, than you could have had in the
midst of your party political squabbles at home.
'During the months of September and October, when your Wide-Awakes on
the one hand, and your conservative Democracy on the other, were
parading the streets with banners and music, as they or their
predecessors had done in so many previous contests, and believing that
nothing worse could be involved than a possible party defeat and some
bad feelings, we, who lived where revolutions were common, thought that
we discovered the smoldering spark which would be blown to revolution
here. The disruption of the Charleston Convention and through it of the
Democracy; the bold language and firm resistance of the Republicans; the
well-understood energy of the uncompromising Abolitionists, and the less
defined but rabid energy of the Southern fire-eaters: all these were
known abroad and watched with gathering apprehension. American
newspapers, and the extracts made from them by the leading journals of
France and Europe, commanded more attention among the Americo-French and
English than all other excitements of the time put together.
'Then followed what you all know--the election, with its radical result
and the threats which immediately succeeded, that 'Old Abe Lincoln'
should never live to be inaugurated! 'He shall not!' cried the South.
'He shall!' replied the North. To us who knew something of the Spanish
knife and the Italian stiletto, the probabilities seemed to be that he
would never live to reach Washington. Then the mutterings of the thunder
grew deeper and deeper, and some disruption seemed inevitable, evident
to us far away, while you at home, it seemed, were eating and drinking,
marrying and giving in marriage, holding gala-days and enjoying
yourselves generally, on the brink of an arousing volcano from which the
sulphurous smoke already began to ascend to the heavens! So time passed
on; autumn became winter, and December was rolling away.
'I was sitting with half-a-dozen friends in the chess-room at Very's,
about eleven o'clock on the night of the twentieth of December, talking
over some of the marvelous successes which had been won by Paul Morphy
when in Paris, and the unenviable position in which Howard Staunton had
placed himself by keeping out of the lists through evident fear of the
New-Orleanian, when Adolph Von Berg came behind me and laid his hand on
my shoulder.
''Come with me a moment,' he said, 'you are wanted!'
''Where?' I asked, getting up from my seat and following him to the
door, before which stood a light _coupe_, with its red lights flashing,
the horse smoking, and the driver in his seat.
''I have been to-night to the Rue la Reynie Ogniard!' he answered.
''And are you going there again?' I asked, my blood chilling a little
with an indefinable sensation of terror, but a sense of satisfaction
predominating at the opportunity of seeing something more of the
mysterious woman.
''I am!' he answered, 'and so are _you_! She has sent for you! Come!'
'Without another word I stepped into the _coupe_, and we were rapidly
whirled away. I asked Adolph how and why I had been summoned; but he
knew nothing more than myself, except that he had visited the sorceress
at between nine and ten that evening, that she had only spoken to him
for an instant, but ordered him to go at once and find his friend, _the
American_, whom he had falsely introduced some months before as the
English baron. He had been irresistibly impressed with the necessity of
obedience, though it would break in upon his own arrangements for the
later evening, (which included an hour at the Chateau Rouge;) had picked
up a _coupe_, looked in for me at two or three places where he thought
me most likely to be at that hour in the evening, and had found me at
Very's, as related. What the sorceress could possibly want of me, he had
no idea more than myself; but he reminded me that she had hinted at the
possible necessity of sending for me at no distant period, and I
remembered the fact too well to need the reminder.
'It was nearly midnight when we drove down the Rue St. Denis, turned
into La Reynie Ogniard, and drew up at the antiquated door I had once
entered nearly three months earlier. We entered as before, rang the bell
as before, and were admitted into the inner room by the same slattern
girl. I remember at this moment one impression which this person made
upon me--that she did not wash so often as four times a year, and that
the _same old dirt_ was upon her face that had been crusted there at the
time of my previous visit. There seemed no change in the room, except
that _two_ tapers, and each larger than the one I had previously seen,
were burning upon the table. The curtain was down, as before, and when
it suddenly rose, after a few minutes spent in waiting, and the
blood-red woman stood in the vacant space, all seemed so exactly as it
had done on the previous visit, that it would have been no difficult
matter to believe the past three months a mere imagination, and this the
same first visit renewed.
'The illusion, such as it was, did not last long, however. The sorceress
fixed her eyes full upon me, with the red flame seeming to play through
the eyeballs as it had before done through her cheeks, and said, in a
voice lower, more sad and broken, than it had been when addressing me on
the previous occasion:
''Young American, I have sent for you, and you have done well to come.
Do not fear----'
''I do _not_ fear--you, or any one!' I answered, a little piqued that
she should have drawn any such impression from my appearance. I may have
been uttering a fib of magnificent proportions at the moment, but one
has a right to deny cowardice to the last gasp, whatever else he must
admit.
''You do not? It is well, then!' she said in reply, and in the same low,
sad voice. 'You will have courage, then, perhaps, to see what I will
show you from the land of shadows.'
''Whom does it concern?' I asked. 'Myself, or some other?'
''Yourself, and many others--all the world!' uttered the lips of flame.
'It is of your country that I would show you.'
''My country? God of heaven! What has happened to my country?' broke
from my lips almost before I knew what I was uttering. I suppose the
words came almost like a groan, for I had been deeply anxious over the
state of affairs known to exist at home, and perhaps I can be nearer to
a weeping child when I think of any ill to my own beloved land, than I
could be for any other evil threatened in the world.
''But a moment more and you shall see!' said the sorceress. Then she
added: 'You have a friend here present. Shall he too look on what I have
to reveal, or will you behold it alone?'
''Let him see!' I answered. 'My native land may fall into ruin, but she
can never be ashamed!'
''So let it be, then!' said the sorceress, solemnly. 'Be silent, look,
and learn what is at this moment transpiring in your own land!'
'Beneath that adjuration I was silent, and the same dread stillness fell
upon my companion. Suddenly the sorceress, still standing in the same
place, waved her right hand in the air, and a strain of low, sad music,
such as the harps of angels may be continually making over the descent
of lost spirits to the pit of suffering, broke upon my ears. Von Berg
too heard it, I know, for I saw him look up in surprise, then apply his
fingers to his ears and test whether his sense of hearing had suddenly
become defective. Whence that strain of music could have sprung I did
not know, nor do I know any better at this moment. I only know that, to
my senses and those of my companion, it was definite as if the thunders
of the sky had been ringing.
'Then came another change, quite as startling as the music and even more
difficult to explain. The room began to fill with a whitish mist,
transparent in its obscurity, that wrapped the form of the sybil and
finally enveloped her until she appeared to be but a shade. Anon another
and larger room seemed to grow in the midst, with columned galleries and
a rostrum, and hundreds of forms in wild commotion, moving to and fro,
though uttering no sound. At one moment it seemed that I could look
through one of the windows of the phantom building, and I saw the
branches of a palmetto-tree waving in the winter wind. Then amidst and
apparently at the head of all, a white-haired man stood upon the
rostrum, and as he turned down a long scroll from which he seemed to be
reading to the assemblage, I read the words that appeared on the top of
the scroll: 'An ordinance to dissolve the compact heretofore existing
between the several States of the Federal Union, under the name of the
United States of America.' My breath came thick, my eyes filled with
tears of wonder and dismay, and I could see no more.
''Horror!' I cried. 'Roll away the vision, for it is false! It can not
be that the man lives who could draw an ordinance to dissolve the Union
of the United States of America!'
''It is so! That has this day been done!' spoke the voice of the
sorceress from within the cloud of white mist.
''If this is indeed true,' I said, 'show me what is the result, for the
heavens must bow if this work of ruin is accomplished!'
''Look again, then!' said the voice. The strain of music, which had
partially ceased for a moment, grew louder and sadder again, and I saw
the white mist rolling and changing as if a wind were stirring it.
Gradually again it assumed shape and form; and in the moonlight, before
the Capitol of the nation, its white proportions gleaming in the wintry
ray, the form of Washington stood, the hands clasped, the head bare,
and the eyes cast upward in the mute agony of supplication.
''All is not lost!' I shouted more than spoke, 'for the Father of his
Country still watches his children, and while he lives in the heavens
and prays for the erring and wandering, the nation may yet be
reclaimed.'
''It may be so,' said the voice through the mist, 'for look!'
'Again the strain of music sounded, but now louder and clearer and
without the tone of hopeless sadness. Again the white mists rolled by in
changing forms, and when once more they assumed shape and consistency I
saw great masses of men, apparently in the streets of a large city,
throwing out the old flag from roof and steeple, lifting it to heaven in
attitudes of devotion, and pressing it to their lips with those wild
kisses which a mother gives to her darling child when it has been just
rescued from a deadly peril.
''The nation lives!' I shouted. 'The old flag is not deserted and the
patriotic heart yet beats in American bosoms! Show me yet more, for the
next must be triumph!'
''Triumph indeed!' said the voice. 'Behold it and rejoice at it while
there is time!' I shuddered at the closing words, but another change in
the strain of music roused me. It was not sadness now, nor yet the
rising voice of hope, for martial music rung loudly and clearly, and
through it I heard the roar of cannon and the cries of combatants in
battle. As the vision cleared, I saw the armies of the Union in tight
with a host almost as numerous as themselves, but savage, ragged, and
tumultuous, and bearing a mongrel flag that I had never seen before--one
that seemed robbed from the banner of the nation's glory. For a moment
the battle wavered and the forces of the Union seemed driven backward;
then they rallied with a shout, and the flag of stars and stripes was
rebaptized in glory. They pressed the traitors backward at every
turn--they trod rebellion under their heels--they were every where, and
every where triumphant.
''Three cheers for the Star-Spangled Banner!' I cried, forgetting place
and time in the excitement of the scene. 'Let the world look on and
wonder and admire! I knew the land that the Fathers founded and
Washington guarded could not die! Three cheers--yes, nine--for the
Star-Spangled Banner and the brave old land over which it floats!'
''Pause!' said the voice, coming out once more from the cloud of white
mist, and chilling my very marrow with the sad solemnity of its tone.
'Look once again!' I looked, and the mists went rolling by as before,
while the music changed to wild discord; and when the sight became clear
again I saw the men of the nation struggling over bags of gold and
quarreling for a black shadow that flitted about in their midst, while
cries of want and wails of despair went up and sickened the heavens! I
closed my eyes and tried to close my ears, but I could not shut out the
voice of the sorceress, saying once more from her shroud of white mist:
''Look yet again, and for the last time! Behold the worm that gnaws away
the bravery of a nation and makes it a prey for the spoiler!'
Heart-brokenly sad was the music now, as the vision changed once more,
and I saw a great crowd of men, each in the uniform of an officer of the
United States army, clustered around one who seemed to be their chief.
But while I looked I saw one by one totter and fall, and directly I
perceived that _the epaulette or shoulder-strap on the shoulder of each
was a great hideous yellow worm, that gnawed away the shoulder and
palsied the arm and ate into the vitals_. Every second, one fell and
died, making frantic efforts to tear away the reptile from its grasp,
but in vain. Then the white mists rolled away, and I saw the strange
woman standing where she had been when the first vision began. She was
silent, the music was hushed, Adolph Von Berg had fallen hack asleep in
his chair, and drawing out my watch, I discovered that only ten minutes
had elapsed since the sorceress spoke her first word.
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