Come and see' trust thine own eyes
A fearful sign stands in the house of life,
An enemy a fiend lurks close behind
The radiance of thy planet O be warned!
COLERIDGE, from SCHILLER
The belief in astrology was almost universal in the middle of the
seventeenth century; it began to waver and become doubtful towards
the close of that period, and in the beginning of the eighteenth
the art fell into general disrepute, and even under general
ridicule. Yet it still retained many partizans even in the seats
of learning. Grave and studious men were both to relinquish the
calculations which had early become the principal objects of their
studies, and felt reluctant to descend from the predominating
height to which a supposed insight into futurity, by the power of
consulting abstract influences and conjunctions, had exalted them
over the rest of mankind.
Among those who cherished this imaginary privilege with undoubting
faith was an old clergyman with whom Mannering was placed during
his youth. He wasted his eyes in observing the stars, and his
brains in calculations upon their various combinations. His pupil,
in early youth, naturally caught some portion of his enthusiasm,
and laboured for a time to make himself master of the technical
process of astrological research; so that, before he became
convinced of its absurdity, William Lilly himself would have
allowed him 'a curious fancy and piercing judgment in resolving a
question of nativity.'
On the present occasion he arose as early in the morning as the
shortness of the day permitted, and proceeded to calculate the
nativity of the young heir of Ellangowan. He undertook the task
secundum artem, as well to keep up appearances as from a sort of
curiosity to know whether he yet remembered, and could practise,
the imaginary science. He accordingly erected his scheme, or
figure of heaven, divided into its twelve houses, placed the
planets therein according to the ephemeris, and rectified their
position to the hour and moment of the nativity. Without troubling
our readers with the general prognostications which judicial
astrology would have inferred from these circumstances, in this
diagram there was one significator which pressed remarkably upon
our astrologer's attention. Mars, having dignity in the cusp of
the twelfth house, threatened captivity or sudden and violent
death to the native; and Mannering, having recourse to those
further rules by which diviners pretend to ascertain the vehemency
of this evil direction, observed from the result that three
periods would be particularly hazardous--his fifth, his tenth, his
twenty-first year.
It was somewhat remarkable that Mannering had once before tried a
similar piece of foolery at the instance of Sophia Wellwood, the
young lady to whom he was attached, and that a similar conjunction
of planetary influence threatened her with death or imprisonment
in her thirty-ninth year. She was at this time eighteen; so that,
according to the result of the scheme in both cases, the same year
threatened her with the same misfortune that was presaged to the
native or infant whom that night had introduced into the world.
Struck with this coincidence, Mannering repeated his calculations;
and the result approximated the events predicted, until at length
the same month, and day of the month, seemed assigned as the
period of peril to both.
It will be readily believed that, in mentioning this circumstance,
we lay no weight whatever upon the pretended information thus
conveyed. But it often happens, such is our natural love for the
marvellous, that we willingly contribute our own efforts to
beguile our better judgments. Whether the coincidence which I have
mentioned was really one of those singular chances which sometimes
happen against all ordinary calculations; or whether Mannering,
bewildered amid the arithmetical labyrinth and technical jargon of
astrology, had insensibly twice followed the same clue to guide
him out of the maze; or whether his imagination, seduced by some
point of apparent resemblance, lent its aid to make the similitude
between the two operations more exactly accurate than it might
otherwise have been, it is impossible to guess; but the impression
upon his mind that the results exactly corresponded was vividly
and indelibly strong.
He could not help feeling surprise at a coincidence so singular
and unexpected. 'Does the devil mingle in the dance, to avenge
himself for our trifling with an art said to be of magical origin?
Or is it possible, as Bacon and Sir Thomas Browne admit, that
there is some truth in a sober and regulated astrology, and that
the influence of the stars is not to be denied, though the due
application of it by the knaves who pretend to practise the art is
greatly to be suspected?' A moment's consideration of the subject
induced him to dismiss this opinion as fantastical, and only
sanctioned by those learned men either because they durst not at
once shock the universal prejudices of their age, or because they
themselves were not altogether freed from the contagious influence
of a prevailing superstition. Yet the result of his calculations
in these two instances left so unpleasing an impression on his
mind that, like Prospero, he mentally relinquished his art, and
resolved, neither in jest nor earnest, ever again to practise
judicial astrology.
He hesitated a good deal what he should say to the Laird of
Ellangowan concerning the horoscope of his first-born; and at
length resolved plainly to tell him the judgment which he had
formed, at the same time acquainting him with the futility of the
rules of art on which he had proceeded. With this resolution he
walked out upon the terrace.
If the view of the scene around Ellangowan had been pleasing by
moonlight, it lost none of its beauty by the light of the morning
sun. The land, even in the month of November, smiled under its
influence. A steep but regular ascent led from the terrace to the
neighbouring eminence, and conducted Mannering to the front of the
old castle. It consisted of two massive round towers projecting
deeply and darkly at the extreme angles of a curtain, or flat
wall, which united them, and thus protecting the main entrance,
that opened through a lofty arch in the centre of the curtain into
the inner court of the castle. The arms of the family, carved in
freestone, frowned over the gateway, and the portal showed the
spaces arranged by the architect for lowering the portcullis and
raising the drawbridge. A rude farm-gate, made of young fir-trees
nailed together, now formed the only safeguard of this once
formidable entrance. The esplanade in front of the castle
commanded a noble prospect.
The dreary scene of desolation through which Mannering's road had
lain on the preceding evening was excluded from the view by some
rising ground, and the landscape showed a pleasing alternation of
hill and dale, intersected by a river, which was in some places
visible, and hidden in others, where it rolled betwixt deep and
wooded banks. The spire of a church and the appearance of some
houses indicated the situation of a village at the place where the
stream had its junction with the ocean. The vales seemed well
cultivated, the little inclosures into which they were divided
skirting the bottom of the hills, and sometimes carrying their
lines of straggling hedgerows a little way up the ascent. Above
these were green pastures, tenanted chiefly by herds of black
cattle, then the staple commodity of the country, whose distant
low gave no unpleasing animation to the landscape. The remoter
hills were of a sterner character, and, at still greater distance,
swelled into mountains of dark heath, bordering the horizon with a
screen which gave a defined and limited boundary to the cultivated
country, and added at the same time the pleasing idea that it was
sequestered and solitary. The sea-coast, which Mannering now saw
in its extent, corresponded in variety and beauty with the inland
view. In some places it rose into tall rocks, frequently crowned
with the ruins of old buildings, towers, or beacons, which,
according to tradition, were placed within sight of each other,
that, in times of invasion or civil war, they might communicate by
signal for mutual defence and protection. Ellangowan Castle was by
far the most extensive and important of these ruins, and asserted
from size and situation the superiority which its founders were
said once to have possessed among the chiefs and nobles of the
district. In other places the shore was of a more gentle
description, indented with small bays, where the land sloped
smoothly down, or sent into the sea promontories covered with
wood.
A scene so different from what last night's journey had presaged
produced a proportional effect upon Mannering. Beneath his eye lay
the modern house--an awkward mansion, indeed, in point of
architecture, but well situated, and with a warm, pleasant
exposure. 'How happily,' thought our hero, 'would life glide on in
such a retirement! On the one hand, the striking remnants of
ancient grandeur, with the secret consciousness of family pride
which they inspire; on the other, enough of modern elegance and
comfort to satisfy every moderate wish. Here then, and with thee,
Sophia!'
We shall not pursue a lover's day-dream any farther. Mannering
stood a minute with his arms folded, and then turned to the ruined
castle.
On entering the gateway, he found that the rude magnificence of
the inner court amply corresponded with the grandeur of the
exterior. On the one side ran a range of windows lofty and large,
divided by carved mullions of stone, which had once lighted the
great hall of the castle; on the other were various buildings of
different heights and dates, yet so united as to present to the
eye a certain general effect of uniformity of front. The doors and
windows were ornamented with projections exhibiting rude specimens
of sculpture and tracery, partly entire and partly broken down,
partly covered by ivy and trailing plants, which grew luxuriantly
among the ruins. That end of the court which faced the entrance
had also been formerly closed by a range of buildings; but owing,
it was said, to its having been battered by the ships of the
Parliament under Deane, during the long civil war, this part of
the castle was much more ruinous than the rest, and exhibited a
great chasm, through which Mannering could observe the sea, and
the little vessel (an armed lugger), which retained her station in
the centre of the bay. [Footnote: The outline of the above
description, as far as the supposed ruins are concerned, will be
found somewhat to resemble the noble remains of Carlaverock
Castle, six or seven miles from Dumfries, and near to Lochar
Moss.] While Mannering was gazing round the ruins, he heard from
the interior of an apartment on the left hand the voice of the
gipsy he had seen on the preceding evening. He soon found an
aperture through which he could observe her without being himself
visible; and could not help feeling that her figure, her
employment, and her situation conveyed the exact impression of an
ancient sibyl.
She sate upon a broken corner-stone in the angle of a paved
apartment, part of which she had swept clean to afford a smooth
space for the evolutions of her spindle. A strong sunbeam through
a lofty and narrow window fell upon her wild dress and features,
and afforded her light for her occupation; the rest of the
apartment was very gloomy. Equipt in a habit which mingled the
national dress of the Scottish common people with something of an
Eastern costume, she spun a thread drawn from wool of three
different colours, black, white, and grey, by assistance of those
ancient implements of housewifery now almost banished from the
land, the distaff and spindle. As she spun, she sung what seemed
to be a charm. Mannering, after in vain attempting to make himself
master of the exact words of her song, afterwards attempted the
following paraphrase of what, from a few intelligible phrases, he
concluded to be its purport:--
Twist ye, twine ye! even so
Mingle shades of joy and woe,
Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife,
In the thread of human life.
While the mystic twist is spinning,
And the infant's life beginning,
Dimly seen through twilight bending,
Lo, what varied shapes attending!
Passions wild, and Follies vain,
Pleasures soon exchanged for pain,
Doubt, and Jealousy, and Fear
In the magic dance appear.
Now they wax, and now they dwindle,
Whirling with the whirling spindle.
Twist ye, twine ye! even so
Mingle human bliss and woe.
Ere our translator, or rather our free imitator, had arranged
these stanzas in his head, and while he was yet hammering out a
rhyme for DWINDLE, the task of the sibyl was accomplished, or her
wool was expended. She took the spindle, now charged with her
labours, and, undoing the thread gradually, measured it by casting
it over her elbow and bringing each loop round between her
forefinger and thumb. When she had measured it out, she muttered
to herself--'A hank, but not a haill ane--the full years o' three
score and ten, but thrice broken, and thrice to OOP (i.e. to
unite); he'll be a lucky lad an he win through wi't.'
Our hero was about to speak to the prophetess, when a voice,
hoarse as the waves with which it mingled, hallooed twice, and
with increasing impatience--'Meg, Meg Merrilies! Gipsy--hag--
tausend deyvils!'
'I am coming, I am coming, Captain,' answered Meg; and in a moment
or two the impatient commander whom she addressed made his
appearance from the broken part of the ruins.
He was apparently a seafaring man, rather under the middle size,
and with a countenance bronzed by a thousand conflicts with the
north-east wind. His frame was prodigiously muscular, strong, and
thick-set; so that it seemed as if a man of much greater height
would have been an inadequate match in any close personal
conflict. He was hard-favoured, and, which was worse, his face
bore nothing of the insouciance, the careless, frolicsome jollity
and vacant curiosity, of a sailor on shore. These qualities,
perhaps, as much as any others, contribute to the high popularity
of our seamen, and the general good inclination which our society
expresses towards them. Their gallantry, courage, and hardihood
are qualities which excite reverence, and perhaps rather humble
pacific landsmen in their presence; and neither respect nor a
sense of humiliation are feelings easily combined with a familiar
fondness towards those who inspire them. But the boyish frolics,
the exulting high spirits, the unreflecting mirth of a sailor when
enjoying himself on shore, temper the more formidable points of
his character. There was nothing like these in this man's face; on
the contrary, a surly and even savage scowl appeared to darken
features which would have been harsh and unpleasant under any
expression or modification. 'Where are you, Mother Deyvilson?' he
said, with somewhat of a foreign accent, though speaking perfectly
good English. 'Donner and blitzen! we have been staying this half-
hour. Come, bless the good ship and the voyage, and be cursed to
ye for a hag of Satan!'
At this moment he noticed Mannering, who, from the position which
he had taken to watch Meg Merrilies's incantations, had the
appearance of some one who was concealing himself, being half
hidden by the buttress behind which he stood. The Captain, for
such he styled himself, made a sudden and startled pause, and
thrust his right hand into his bosom between his jacket and
waistcoat as if to draw some weapon. 'What cheer, brother? you
seem on the outlook, eh?' Ere Mannering, somewhat struck by the
man's gesture and insolent tone of voice, had made any answer, the
gipsy emerged from her vault and joined the stranger. He
questioned her in an undertone, looking at Mannering--'A shark
alongside, eh?'
She answered in the same tone of under-dialogue, using the cant
language of her tribe--'Cut ben whids, and stow them; a gentry
cove of the ken.' [Footnote: Meaning--Stop your uncivil language;
that is a gentleman from the house below.]
The fellow's cloudy visage cleared up. 'The top of the morning to
you, sir; I find you are a visitor of my friend Mr. Bertram. I beg
pardon, but I took you for another sort of a person.'
Mannering replied, 'And you, sir, I presume, are the master of
that vessel in the bay?'
'Ay, ay, sir; I am Captain Dirk Hatteraick, of the Yungfrauw
Hagenslaapen, well known on this coast; I am not ashamed of my
name, nor of my vessel--no, nor of my cargo neither for that
matter.'
'I daresay you have no reason, sir.'
'Tausend donner, no; I'm all in the way of fair trade. Just loaded
yonder at Douglas, in the Isle of Man--neat cogniac--real hyson
and souchong--Mechlin lace, if you want any--right cogniac--we
bumped ashore a hundred kegs last night.'
'Really, sir, I am only a traveller, and have no sort of occasion
for anything of the kind at present.'
'Why, then, good-morning to you, for business must be minded--
unless ye'll go aboard and take schnaps; you shall have a pouch-
full of tea ashore. Dirk Hatteraick knows how to be civil.'
There was a mixture of impudence, hardihood, and suspicious fear
about this man which was inexpressibly disgusting. His manners
were those of a ruffian, conscious of the suspicion attending his
character, yet aiming to bear it down by the affectation of a
careless and hardy familiarity. Mannering briefly rejected his
proffered civilities; and, after a surly good-morning, Hatteraick
retired with the gipsy to that part of the ruins from which he had
first made his appearance. A very narrow staircase here went down
to the beach, intended probably for the convenience of the
garrison during a siege. By this stair the couple, equally amiable
in appearance and respectable by profession, descended to the sea-
side. The soi-disant captain embarked in a small boat with two
men, who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on the
shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulating with great
vehemence. |