REFERRING TO THE MOSQUITO AS A TEST OF HUMAN NATURE, EXPLAINING THE LONG HALT OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE, AND NOTING THE COURT OF INQUIRY ON CAPTAIN VILLIAM BROWN.
REFERRING TO THE MOSQUITO AS A TEST OF HUMAN NATURE, EXPLAINING THE LONG HALT OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE, AND NOTING THE COURT OF INQUIRY ON CAPTAIN VILLIAM BROWN.
Washington, D. C., October 26th, 1862.
Early this morning, my boy, I sauntered across the Long Bridge and took my seat upon the topmost rail of a fence enclosing a trampled meadow. There I sat, like Marius, my boy, contemplating the architectural ruin embodied in my Gothic steed, Pegasus, and ever and anon whistling abstractedly to my frescoed dog, Bologna.
By the gods! I really love these dumb friends of mine. The speculative eye of the world sees in poor Pegasus nothing more than an architectural dream—the church architecture of the future—and, I must confess, my boy, that the Gothic chargerdoeslook something like a skeleton chapel at a distance; it sees in Bologna only a mongrel cur, whose taste for the calves of human legs is an epicurean outrage on walking society. But for me, my boy, there is a human pathos in the patient fidelity of these zoological curiosities which appeals to my best manhood. I have had a hard and thankless life of it; my experience withthe knowing political chaps of the Sixth Ward was enough to grind everything like human tenderness out of my nature, and make me turn into an arrogant and contemptuous misanthrope; but there are times when the cold nose of Pegasus against my cheek, or a wag from that speaking tail of Bologna—which curls up behind him like a note of interrogation, to ask how his master feels—will give me such a sensation of wishing to protect and be kind to the Helpless, that I feel myself a better man for the practical Christianity of such humble society.
There is my mosquito, the youthful Humboldt, too! He came to me one night, about two years ago, my boy, practising much profound strategy to capture my nose; and when I foiled him by a free use of both arms of the service, the unterrified and humming manner in which he changed the base of his operations and came on again, excited my admiration and respect. Catching him in a little net cage made from the musquito bars of my bed, I kept him safely by me, and now use him as a test of human nature. In God's providence, each minute created thing has its appointed use, my boy, and depend upon it, the use of the musquito is to test human nature.
There was a veteran political chap from Albany called upon me last Sunday night. A sage and aged chap of infinite vest, who wears the broad-brimmed hat of reticent respectability, and nestles in much shirt-collar like a centuried owl. Having taken a pinch of snuff after the dirty manner of a Gentleman of the Old School, he merely paused to take a hasty glanceat the plan for the next Senatorial election in his note book, and then says he:
"I'm grievously dis'pointed, yea, piteously vexed, to see the partisan spirit raging so furiously in State elections, at a time when an expiring country calls upon all her sons, irrespective of party, to join hands in the great work of saving her. Why cannot these turbulent denouncers of each other be like me, who recognize no division of party in this national crisis? I would have a union of all men to vote for the one great ticket of my choice; and even the democrat I would recognize as a fellow being in such a case."
I suspected this grievous old chap to be a hypocrite, my boy, and I managed to let Humboldt free from his cage for the purpose of testing him. As the aged chap commenced to get warm, Humboldt began to make raids round his sagacious head, and with divers slaps in the air, the aged chap waxed spirited, and says he;
"Pshoo! pshoo!—As I was saying, we should all strive to conciliate our political adversaries—pshoo! and endeavor to promote a spirit of unity even with the most disaffected peace men—pshoo, you beast!—and not act like Greeley and Wendell Phillips, and Beecher—confound it, pshoo!—and other infernal fanatics; who, by their indiscreet, imprudent—curse it, pshoo!—and infernal, God-forsaken niggerism, are wounding the tenderest feelings—thunder and lightning, pshoo!—and rousing the hellish passions of really good democrats, who thereby make capital from their sadly mistaken—blazes and blue lightning, pshoo!—and devilish craziness, which is unfortunatelyconfusing—good heavens, pshoo, pshoo!—and damning their own party, and knocking thunder out of the gubernatorial canvass; besides—besides—"
Here this aged chap made a flying leap at Humboldt, missed his aim, and then dashed madly from the room.
Depend upon it, my boy, a musquito is a great test of human nature. The little chap operates like an outside conscience, and brings the real thing to the surface.
Why does not the Mackerel Brigade advance?
This, my boy, is the question of the hour. For what do our heroes wait? Is it for india-rubbers, or umbrellas, or fine-tooth combs? No! be not deceived: it is for none of these.
Hem! The fact is, my boy, many respectable though married Mackerels entered the army of the Accomac when they were in the prime of life; and as old age steals softly upon them, as the seasons and the bases of operations run through their changes, and year succeeds year, the eye-sight of many of them waxes dim, and fails in the process of Nature. I know some thousands of Mackerels, my boy, who are already so blind that they have not seen a rebel for six months; and hence, no advance-movement can be judiciously made until the brigade is supplied with spectacles. Without these, the idolized General of the Mackerel Brigade will not do anything until he gets ready. It was the want of these, as I now discover, that prevented our troops seeing the Southern Confederacy when he made his late raid across Awlkwyet River. Let the spectacles be at once procured, my boy; or anindignant and bleeding nation will at once demand a change in the Cabinet.
Company 3, Regiment 5, is the only Company yet fitted with glasses, and was therefore selected to make a reconnoissance toward Paris, under Colonel Wobert Wobinson, on Tuesday afternoon, for the purpose of discovering whether the Confederacies there were very tired of waiting yet. Glaring through their spectacles, these gallant beings advanced until they met a Parrot shell going the other way, and then returned with hasty discipline, bringing with them a captured contraband, who was so anxious to remain in their company that he actually ran very fast.
Upon regaining the camp in Accomac, my boy, the colonel had the intelligent contraband brought before him, and says he:
"If I mistake not, friend Africa, you were escaping from the bonds of oppression when we took you?"
The intelligent contraband shifted a silver soup-ladle from one pocket to the other, and says he:
"Yes, mars'r colonel, I hab left my ole mars'r for de good of his bressed soul." Here the attached bondman sniffed and shook his head.
"Are you pious?" says Colonel Wobinson, much affected by such an example of humble devotion.
"Yes, mars'r I is dat," says the fond creature, wiping his brow with a silk vest from his dress-coat pocket, "and I wished to save my ole mars'r from de sin of de wicked. I know dat it was wrong for him to own niggas, and dat he was more sinful de more he done it. And I run away, Mars'r Colonel, to save dat ole man's bressum soul from any more dam."
Colonel Wobinson took off his spectacles in order that the steam from his tears might not dim them, and says he:
"I had not looked for this in one so black. Leave those silver spoons with me, friend Africa, and I will send them to my wife. Sergeant, convey this dark being, who has taught us all such a lesson of self-sacrifice, to the chaplain; and tell the chaplain to look out for his pocket."
How beautiful is it, my boy, to see in the uncouth, unlettered slave, a spirit of piety so shiningly practical. When I beheld the brutalized bondman evince such signs of religion, I am reminded of those tender and precocious little babes, who sometimes delight their mothers with exalted utterances of the like, and am inclined to believe that one knows just as much about it as the other does.
It pains me to say, my boy, that Captain Villiam Brown so far forgot himself on Wednesday, upon discovering the non-arrival of the spectacles, that he used language of an incendiary description against the beloved General of the Mackerel Brigade, thereby proving himself to be one of those crazy fanatics who are trying to ruin our distracted country. He said, my boy, that the adored General of the Mackerel Brigade was a dead-beat, and furthermore observed that he would be very sorry to take his word.
Such language could not pass unnoticed, and a Court of Inquiry, composed of Captains Bob Shorty, Samyule Sa-mith, and Colonel Wobert Wobinson, was instantly called. The Court had a decanter and tumbler only, to aid its deliberations, it being determined bythe War Department that no fact which could be detected even by the aid of a glass, should go uninspected.
Villiam having been summoned to the presence, Samyule declared the Court in session, and says he:
"The sad duty has become ours, to investigate certain charges against a brother in arms which has heretofore been the mirror of chivalry. It is specified against him:
"'First—That said Captain Villiam Brown, Eskevire, did affirm, declare, avow, testify, and articulate, with his tongue, licker, and organ of speech, that the General of the Mackerel Brigade was a dead-beat.
"'Second—That aforesaid Captain Villiam Brown, Eskevire, did proclaim, utter, enunciate, fulminate and swear, that he would not take the word of the General of the Mackerel Brigade.'
"What has the culprit to say to these charges? Did he say that our idolized Commander was a dead-beat?"
Villiam smiled calmly, and says he: "The chaste remark exactly fits the orifice of my lips."
"Confine yourself to English," says Colonel Wobinson, majestically. "What do you mean by the observation?"
"Why," says Villiam, pleasantly, "I meant, that before he was beaten he must be dead. And after death, you know," says Villiam, reaching one hand abstractedly toward the decanter, "after death, you know, we must allb'eatenby worms."
This explanation, my boy, was satisfactory, and conveyed a grave moral lesson; but the court felt convincedthat the second charge could not be thus simply answered.
Captain Samyule Sa-mith set down the tumbler for a moment, and says he:
"You're not guilty on the first count, Villiam; but didn't you say that you wouldn't take the word of the General of the Mackerel Brigade?"
"Which I did," says Villiam.
"And what excuse have you to offer, my trooper?" says Captain Bob Shorty, pointing the question with his spoon.
"Is the general a gentleman?" says Villiam, searchingly.
The court believed him to be such.
"Ah!" says Villiam, "then if he's a gentleman, he alwayskeepshis word, and of course it is impossible totakeit."
Verdict of "not guilty, with a recommendation to mercy."
Courts of Inquiry, my boy, are calculated to draw out the rich humor of military character, and are equally useful and appropriate with all other jokes, in times of devastating war.
Yours, smilingly,Orpheus C. Kerr.
SHOWING WHAT EFFECT DEMOCRATIC TRIUMPHS HAVE UPON THE PRESIDENT, NOTING OUR CORRESPONDENT'S STRANGE MISTAKE ABOUT A BRITISH FLAG, AND INDICATING THE STRAGETIC ADVANCE OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE.
SHOWING WHAT EFFECT DEMOCRATIC TRIUMPHS HAVE UPON THE PRESIDENT, NOTING OUR CORRESPONDENT'S STRANGE MISTAKE ABOUT A BRITISH FLAG, AND INDICATING THE STRAGETIC ADVANCE OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE.
Washington, D. C., November 7th, 1862.
The late election in New York, my boy, has electrified everybody except our Honest Abe, who still goes about smiling, like a long and amiable sexton, and continues to save our distracted country after the manner of an honest man. On Tuesday night, a high moral Democratic chap, of much watch-seal, who had just received a dispatch all about the election, went to see the Honest Abe, for the express purpose of telling him that the Democratic party had been born again, and was on the point of protesting against everything whatsoever, except the Constitution of our forefathers. He found the Honest Abe cracking some walnuts before the fire, my boy, and says he:
"The celebrated Democratic organization, of which I am Assistant Engineer, has carried the State of New York in a manner impossible to express, and will now proceed to demand of you a vigorous prosecution of that unnatural strife in which are involved our lives, our liberties, and the pursuit of happiness. We admireto see your harmless honesty," says the chap, blandly, "and we believe you to be a fresh egg; but we protest against the arbitrary arrest of men which is patriots, only conservatively Democratic; and we insist upon a vigorous prosecution of Constitutional hostilities against our misguided brothers who are now offering irregular opposition to the Government."
The Honest Abe cracked a walnut, and says he: "You say, neighbor, that the organization still insists upon a vigorous prosecution of the war?"
The Democratic chap sliced a toothpick from the arm of the chair with his knife, and says he: "That is the present platform on which we areE pluribus unum."
"Well," says the Honest Abe, "I believe that you mean well; but am reminded of a little story.
"When I was practicing law out in Illinois," says the Honest Abe, twisting the bow of his black necktie around from under his left ear, "there was an old cock, with two sons, living near me in a tumble-down old shanty. He lived there until half his roof blew off one windy night, and then he concluded to move to a new house, where the chimney didn't take up all the upper story. On the day when he moved, he'd got most all his traps changed to the other residence, and had sent one of his sons to see that they were all got safely indoors, when suddenly a shower commenced to come up. The old man and his other offspring, who had stayed to hurry him, were taking up a carpet from the floor at the time the first dose of thunder cracked, and the offspring says he, 'Hurry up, old crazy-bones, or we'll be ketched in the freshet before you get upthis here rich fabric.' The stern parent heeded the admonition, and went ripping away the carpet around the edges of the room, until he came near where the offspring was standing, and there it stuck. He pulled, but it wouldn't come, and he says, says he: ''Pears to me that dod-rotted tack must be a tenpenny nail—it holds on so.' You see, the old screw was very blind without his specs," says the Honest Abe, buttoning his vest askew, "and he couldn't see just where the tack was. Another peal of thunder at this moment made the irascible offspring still madder, and he says, says he: 'You misabul old cripple, if you don't hurry up we'll be ketched, I tell you!' As he made this dutiful remark he went stamping to the window, and at the same moment the cantankerous tack came out, and the aged parent went over on his back with the carpet up to his chin. He got up and dusted, and says he: 'Well, now, thatiscur'ous—how suddent it went.' Then he proceeded to rip away again, until it came near the window, and there it stuck once more. The wild offspring saw him tugging again, and it made him so wrathy that he says, says he: 'Why in thunder didn't you take the nails out first, you crooked old sinner, you? It's enough to make me weep afresh for the old woman, to see how you—' But he didn't finish his observation; for, as he walked toward where the hammer lay, the tack came out, and the old 'un went to bed again under the carpet. Up sprang the sad parent, spitting rags, and he says, says he: 'Well now, how cur'ous—to think it should come so suddent!' Still on he went, until the carpet was all up from around the edges; but when he tried to draw it awayon his shoulder, it was fast somewheres yet. R-r-rum-bum-boom! went the thunder; and says the infuriated offspring, says he: 'Well, I never did see such a blundering old dad as you be. We'll be ketched in the rain as sure as grasshoppers; and all because you didn't take my advice about the hammer in the first place.' The poor old 'un tugged, and pulled, and panted, and says he: 'Well, now, itiscur'ous, I swun to massey. There can't be no tacks way out in the middle of the floor here, can they?' To make sure, the old blind-pate was going down on his knees to take a mouse-eye view, when all of a sudden he gave a start, and he says, says he: 'Why, 'pears to me, Sammy,you're standin' on the carpet yourself!' And so he was—so he was," says the Honest Abe, smiling into the fire, "and that was the why the carpet had stuck fast in so many places."
"Now," says the Honest Abe, poking the Democratic chap in the ribs with his knuckles; "if your organization wants me to move vigorously in this war, tell them not to be standing on my carpet all the time. Otherwise, I must still keep tacking about."
The Democratic chap had been slowly rising from his chair as this small moral tale drew toward its exciting conclusion, and at the last word he fled the apartment with quivering watch-seal.
Our President, my boy, has a tale for every emergency, as a rat-trap has an emergency for every tail.
It was on the morning of this same day, that I had a pleasing conversation on the state of our foreign relations with a phlegmatic British chap connected with the English Ministry, who is remaining here for thepurpose of beholding anarchy in the North, which he has been requested to immediately communicate to one of Great Britain's morning journals. We were taking Richmond together at Willard's, my boy, and had just been speaking of the English Southern pirate "Alabama" in terms of neutrality, when suddenly the phlegmatic chap drew a roll of silk from one of his pockets, fastened it to his cane, unfurled it before my eyes, and says he:
"By the way, sir, 'ow do you like this ere h'original h'idea of mine? Do you see what it is?"
"Yes, friend Bifstek," says I, Frenchily, "that is indeed the Black Flag."
The chap turned very red in the face, my boy, and says he: "The Black Flag! what a 'orrible h'idea! You must be thinking of the h'Alabama. What h'induces you to suppose such a thing!"
The Black Flag
"Why," says I, "there's the Skull and Crossbones plain enough."
"Skull and Crossbones!!" says he, "why, that's the beautiful Hinglish crest—a crown and sceptres; and this is my new h'original design, ye know, for a new Hinglish Revenue Flag."
It was then, my boy, that I discovered my error, and apologized for my obliquity of vision. It was strange, indeed, that I should mistake for a skull the insignia of royalty, even though a crown is not unfrequently found identified with a numskull.
On the same Tuesday, my boy, there was a small election in a town just this side of Accomac, and I went down there early in the morning, to the office of the excellent independent evening journal, that I might see the returns as soon as they came in. The editor was talking to two chaps—a Republican and a Democrat—and, says he:
"The organ which my humble talents keep a-going is strictly independent, and I have no choice of candidates. I care only for my country, one and individual," says the editor, touchingly, "and can make no arbitrary discrimination of mere parties; but as you both advertise your tickets in my moral journal, a sense of duty may induce me to favor the side whose advertisement weighs the most."
After this gentle insinuation, my boy, each chap hastily commenced to write his advertisement. The Republican inscribed his upon averyheavy piece of brown wrapping-paper to make it weighty; but the Democrat selected a plain bit of foolscap, only putting in a hundred-dollar Treasury Note, to keep it from blotting.
When the editor came to look at the two, he coughedslightly, and says he: "I have always been a Democrat."
"But my advertisement certainly weighs the most," says the Republican chap, hotly.
The editor ate a chestnut, and says he: "Not in an intellectual sense, my friend."
"My paper is twice as heavy as his," says the chap; "and as to the Treasury Note, I had some scruples—"
"There!" says the editor, interruptingly, "you tell the whole story, my friend. In the temple of a free and reliable press, as well as elsewhere, some scruples bear very little proportion in weight to one hundredweight."
The American press, my boy, might occasionally adopt as an appropriate motto, the present Napoleon's observation, that "L'Empire c'est laPAY."
Turning from intellectual matters, let me glance at our country's hope and pride, the Mackerel Brigade, each member of whom feels confident of ultimately crushing out this hideous Rebellion as soon as national strategy shall have revealed the present whereabouts of the affrighted Confederacy. Last week, my boy, the Brigade moved gorgeously from Accomac, headed by the band, who played exciting strains upon his night-key bugle; and was only fired upon from the windows of wayside houses by helpless women, against whom the United States of America do not make war.
Woman, my boy, is the most helpless of God's creatures; and is so far from having power to help any other being, that she even can't help being herself sometimes.
The sun shone brightly down upon the spectacles ofthe ancient Mackerels as they once more took the road toward Paris; and as the light was reflected from the glistening glasses upon the carmine noses of which they were astride, it seemed as though each warrior had a rose in the middle of his countenance to symbolize the beautiful idea, that they had all arose for their distracted country's preservation.
Captain Villiam Brown, mounted on his geometrical steed, Euclid, was conversing affably with Captain Bob Shorty, as they rode along together, when a Lieutenant of the Anatomical Cavalry came dashing toward him, and says he:
"Captain, there's something missing from the rearguard."
Villiam assumed a thoughtful demeanor, and says he: "Is it a miss fire?"
"No," says the Lieutenant, agitatedly: "but we miss two—"
"Not baggage wagons?" says Villiam, giving such a start that Euclid nearly fell upon his knees; "don't tell me that two wagons are missing."
"Why no," says the Lieutenant, with emotion, "it's not two wagons that we miss, but two Brigadiers."
"Ah!" says Villiam, fanning himself with his cap. "How you alarmed me. I thought at first that it was two wagons. Let the procession go on, and I'll send for two more Brigs the next time I have a friend going to Washington."
It would please me, my boy, to detail the further movements of the Mackerels, but the cause of strategy demands that I should say no more on that topic just at present.
The beloved General of the Mackerel Brigade was at Washington when he heard of the advance which his enemies would pretend that he did not lead in person, and says he to the messenger:
"Are my gallant children ready for a fight?"
"Much so," says the messenger.
"Is the weather clear, my child?"
"Salubrious."
"Thunder!" says the General, valorously. "Then I really believe that I must move my headquarters across the Potomac!"
The Potomac, my boy—to speak with all due reverence for sacred things—in the numerous backs and forths it so constantly imposes upon the military, would seem calculated to turn this war into another Crusade, and make all our heroes literal soldiers of the "cross."
Yours, metaphorically,Oepheus C. Kerr.
IN WHICH THE STORY TOLD BY THE GERMAN MEMBER OF THE COSMOPOLITAN CLUB IS DULY REPORTED.
IN WHICH THE STORY TOLD BY THE GERMAN MEMBER OF THE COSMOPOLITAN CLUB IS DULY REPORTED.
Washington, D. C., November 12th, 1862.
Herr Tuyfeldock, my boy, the high-Dutch cosmopolitan, supernaturalized the last meeting of the club with his old-fashioned story of
HERMANN, THE DEMENTED.
"At the base of a lofty mountain, and overshadowed by its beetling cliffs, stood a rude hut, built of heavy logs, and surmounted by a roof, the eaves of which descended in broad scollops over the windows of the tenement, and gave it the appearance of a small boy wearing his father's hat. In the surrounding scenery there was a wild grandeur and magnificence with which no work of art would have been in keeping. Immediately in the rear of the humble habitation, abruptly rose one of a range known as the Hartz Mountains, stretching far away toward the west in waves of bright and shadowy emerald, as the light fell uponthem, and covered with gloomy forests, peopled with unblest spirits by the legends of olden times. In front and on both sides, spreading out its vast expanse of verdant soil, until it appeared to meet with the horizon, was a noble plain, bearing scattered clumps of trees, through which a few isolated huts were discernable. It was like Light and Shade meeting, with the hut under the cliff to mark their boundaries.
"Evening had just begun to tint the fragrant air with her sombre hues, when a figure was apparent, moving over the plain in the direction of the lonely domicil, and, as it approached nearer, the muscular form and pleasing features of a young hunter were visible. He was exceedingly tall, yet symmetrical in every limb, and quick in his movements as a chamois on its native hills. His dress comprised a coat and leggins of blue material, ornamented with silver buttons, a pair of heavy boots, and a narrow-brimmed straw hat, from which a wolf's tail depended. He carried a long rifle, and a bag for small game swung, with a powder flask, or horn, at his side.
"Arriving in front of the hut, he paused a moment to examine some footprints on the soil, and then tapped gently at the door with the butt of his piece. In an instant it was opened by a beautiful girl, with light blue eyes, flaxen curls, and a complexion of pure red and white, who, though dressed in the coarsest attire, yet looked and shone a perfect goddess of the solitude.
"'Dearest Marcella,' exclaimed the hunter, seizing her extended hand, and carrying it to his lips with all the ardor of a lover.
"'I feared you were not coming to-night, Wilhelm,' answered Marcella, with a blush of pleasure, as she led him into the hut by the hand which she still retained.
"The apartment thus entered occupied the whole structure, save a portion apparently partitioned off with wolf skins; and a rude table, six chairs, and a goatskin covered couch, were the only articles of furniture it contained, excepting a few trophies of the chase hanging from the walls, and a woodman's axe placed over the mantel. The floor was composed of logs, and was very uneven, save directly opposite the fire-place, where a large flat stone was firmly imbedded in the earth; and a small oil lamp, swinging in chains from the arching roof above, gave forth a pale light which mingled imperceptibly with that of departing day in a mellow twilight.
"'Marcella,' said Wilhelm, as they sat beside each other on the couch, 'I can scarcely realize that you are the wild little fairy, with whom I used to explore the dark woods of haunted Hartz. I can remember, too, standing with you under the blighted pine, and relating old legends which I heard my father tell, while you listened with breathless attention, and looked like a startled chamois, when the wind rustled among the leaves.'
"'Those were happy days!' murmured Marcella.
"'They were, indeed!' continued Wilhelm, with enthusiasm—'yet why should infancy monopolize all the richest pleasures of life? As we grow older, our understanding becomes more clearly defined, and circumstances which rendered our childhood happy, shouldbecome more truly appreciated as blessings, instead of growing homely and irksome to us.'
"'It is because the matured mind requires a wider field for exercise,' said Marcella. 'When I used to roam with you in the forest or on the plain, those localities constituted our little world, and I cared for no other; but as my father taught me the learning of books, I awoke to a sense of uneasiness, and a consciousness of restricted liberty. The beautiful world of which I read became replete with attractions hitherto unknown to me, and I longed to quit these wild scenes, and behold the palaces of princes.'
"'So it was with me,' responded her lover. 'As you may remember, my parents hoarded up their little earnings, that I might enjoy the advantages of education, and I went to Gottingen with the feeling of one who was about to drink of pleasure at its fountain-head; but alas! Marcella, the wide world is like a piece of glass, which may sparkle in the distance with all the brilliancy of a diamond, and after leading us wildly onward, becomes the more worthless, for our endeavors to gain a closer view. I imagined that the learning of schools would confer happiness; it became mine, and I found it a mockery. I mixed with the rich, gay and gifted; but my object still eluded pursuit. Marcella, I became convinced that I left true happiness behind me, when I departed from home; and returned to its shelter, resolved to leave it no more. I tasted of the cup, and found it bitter.'
"'My father talks in that manner,' answered Marcella. 'He hates the world for the injury it has done him, and even our few neighbors excite his scorn, bytheir foolish fears of him. I am sure if they knew him well, they could not help loving him as I do; he is so noble, so brave, so generous, that I cannot understand why he is called "The Demented," unless it is because his superior intelligence is regarded by the hinds as a supernatural gift. Perhaps that is the reason,' she added, haughtily.
"'You wrong the honest peasants,' said the hunter, hastily; 'who, though ignorant, possess the gifts of reason and discrimination. Your father will not allow them to know him better, and the extraordinary quantity of game which he obtains would arouse superstitious whispers from more enlightened minds.'
"'Poor deluded creatures!' exclaimed Marcella, scornfully. 'Because my father's aim is truer than theirs, ought he to be looked upon as one demented? Because, by his skill in woodcraft, he surpasses their success, should they shun him with looks of horror? Because he refuses to join in their low revels, should they regard him as a ghost-seer? Wilhelm, you have learning, and ought to frown down these foolish superstitions, instead of partaking in them. Did you love Marcella as you have often sworn you do, the man who spoke evil of her parent, would from that moment become your enemy.'
"'And so he should, dearest Marcella; but alas! their suspicions are but too well founded, and though you may be offended, I dare not deny that I myself believe him to be in league with the Evil One.'
"'Then leave me!' exclaimed Marcella, starting from beside him. 'Why should you wish to wed the child of such a man? Might you not find a devil inme? Why should I love a being whose lips have declared my father a demon? Go! Wilhelm, I took you for a man; but you have the soul of a dwarf.'
"Her eyes flashed indignation as she spoke, and in the eyes of her lover she appeared more beautiful than ever.
"'I can forgive your reproaches, for I know them to be actuated by noble sentiments,' he replied, drawing her gently back to her seat. 'Honor to our parents is nature's first law, and God forbid that I should condemn it; but, dearest Marcella, there should be no reserve between us, who have grown up side by side, as it were, and I speak to you as I would to no one else—not even my parents. That I love you, you surely cannot doubt, and that love would be worth little to either of us, did it enjoin concealment of our true opinions from each other. I speak as an honest man, when I tell you, that I once beheld your father in the Black Forest, accompanied by a stranger, who was not of this world.'
"'Great God!' ejaculated Marcella, starting up with affright.
"'Forgive me, dearest; but you forced me to say it in my own defence. Calm yourself and we will talk of this fearful subject no longer.'
"'Wilhelm, you are not trifling with me?'
"'As I hope to be saved, no.'
"The daughter of Hermann trembled for a moment, as though the spirit of Fear had touched her, and the dim rays of the swinging lamp, as they fell upon her finely cut features, revealed the undisguised terrorthere betrayed. But she quickly settled rigidly as a marble effigy, and her voice was firm, as she said:
"'Wilhelm, I believe you, and may God help my unfortunate father. Tell me of what yousaw, and disguise nothing!'
"'It were better to remain untold, Marcella.'
"'I must and will hear it,' she answered with cold determination.
"'Then it must be told,' said the young hunter, with an involuntary shudder. 'On the second day after my arrival from Gottingen University, I started out from my father's cot, to course hares, taking with me my dog and rifle, intending to remain absent all day. For some hours I was quite successful, and succeeded in killing a score of the fleet animals, but after noon they grew scarce, and as the sun was sinking in the west, I paused wearied and exhausted on the borders of the Black Forest, while my dog was panting in the shade. As I stood thus, leaning upon my gun, the sound of a bugle call fell upon my ears, and almost immediately afterwards your father suddenly passed me in the direction from whence it came, looking straight forward with a stony, fascinated stare, so full of mingled despair and earnestness, that I trembled with superstitious fear, and even my dog crawled to my feet, quivering in every limb. Onward he strode, unconscious of a watcher, to a shaded spot on the border, just beyond my position, known as the Witch's Circle. As he reached it, the bugle was again sounded, when immediately a tall cloaked figure rode out of the forest to meet him, and they saluted each other in silence. I could not discern the stranger's features,but I noticed with breathless horror that the steps of the horse which he rode, as well as those of another which he led by the bridle, gave forth no more sound than if they were planted in air——'
"Wilhelm suddenly paused in his narrative, as a beautiful White Fawn suddenly sprang from behind a suspended wolf skin, and alighted directly in front of him. Daylight no longer lent its rays to illumine the apartment, and as the animal's eyes were visible through the misty beams of the lamp, they seemed to glare and blaze like coals of vivid fire.
"'Heaven preserve me!' ejaculated the young hunter, crossing himself.
"'It is my pet, Leo; do not fear him,' said Marcella in low tones.
"'Your father mounted the unoccupied saddle,' continued Wilhelm, going on with his adventure; 'and together they disappeared between the pines; noiselessly as the falling of a feather. At short intervals I heard the sound of the bugle growing fainter and fainter, until it died away in the windings of the mountains. I called my dog and hastened home, without daring to look behind, lest I should behold the mysterious riders following on my track.'
"A short silence succeeded, during which Marcella gently wept, and caressed the fawn. At length she spoke:
"'Dear Wilhelm, I now see the reason why you have ever avoided my father, and come here only while he is away. Perhaps it is better that you should continue to do so, for he is very irritable, and your meeting might be attended with fearful results. Leaveme, Wilhelm; I expect him every moment; it is already past his usual time of return.'
"'I must speak with your father to night, dearest,' said the hunter, encircling her waist with his arm.
"'God forbid!' she exclaimed, looking up to him with great alarm.
"'It must be so, Marcella; I am about to ask a gift of him, and his answer will either make me the happiest of men, or leave me miserable for life. I will ask his daughter of him as one who has a just claim, and I cannot believe he will refuse me.'
"'Wilhelm, you do not know my——'
"At this moment there came a measured rapping at the door, and Marcella arose to open it, trembling with undefined dread. Hermann the Demented pressed a kiss upon her brow as he passed the threshold, and entered his cabin.
"He was an old man, for his hair was grey, and deep wrinkles furroughed his brow; but his form was fully developed and upright as that of meridian manhood, and there was a changing fire in his eye that indicated all the energy of youth. His dress was a mixture of military and peasant garb, and he wore a tall, black felt hat, encircled with a red ribbon. Game of every kind hung in such profusion from his broad shoulders, that it almost entirely concealed his person, and he bore in his hand a rifle which few men could handle. On arriving beneath the lamp, he deposited his spoils upon the floor, and then, for the first time, observed the presence of the young hunter.
"'Ha! is that you Wilhelm!' he exclaimed, castingaside his rifle, and extending his hand in a friendly manner, 'I am especially glad to welcome a brother craftsman to my cover, on a night when I have had such uncommon luck. Look at that heap, and tell me if you ever saw another such.'
"'You are famed as a fortunate hunter,' answered the other, gazing upon the immense pile at his feet with astonishment.
"'Yes, yes, Wilhelm, there are few men can bag hares with Hermann, the Demented,' and the old man laughed a hollow laugh.
"'Your skill must indeed be extraordinary, when it enables you to secure many of these animalsafter nightfall, and without hounds,' returned Wilhelm, looking fixedly at the hunter with a penetrating glance.
"Immediately upon the entrance of her father Marcella had drawn the table from the wall, and commenced to prepare an humble meal; she was standing in a distant corner of the cabin, when her lover spoke thus:
"Hermann started back with a look of fierce anger.
"'What mean you, young man!' he asked in stern tones.
"'I had no intention of giving offence, Mynheer Hermann.'
"'Your looks, at least, were impertinent,' muttered the old hunter, turning abruptly from him, and commencing to sort his game.
"The simple meal was soon ready, and the three persons partook of it without so much as a whisper. When it was finished, and while the young girl wasreplacing her few utensils, Hermann produced a large Meerschaum pipe, and having filled it with tobacco, lit it with a chip from the fire-place; looking inquiringly at his guest as he smoked.
"'You were, doubtless, surprised to find me here?' said the latter, with some hesitancy in his manner.
"'I am not often so highly honored,' responded Hermann, quietly sending forth a wreath of smoke from between his teeth.
"'Do you understand my object, Mynheer Hermann?'
"'Certainly I do, Mynheer Wilhelm.'
"'Indeed,' ejaculated the young hunter, with a look of inquiry.
"'Of course,' said Hermann, ironically; 'you come to my cot, Mynheer Wilhelm, hoping to behold some diabolical orgie, or the working of some cabalistic spell, by which I secure success in the chase. You expect to see me in communion with the mountain spirits, and allowing a long-tailed demon to breathe upon my rifle. Look around you, my honored guest; is not my daughter some horrid witch in disguise? Is not this gentle fawn, a bloodthirsty spectre metamorphosed? Do you not see at least a dozen goblins climbing the barrel of my rifle? Ha, ha, ha! you will add another to the thousand and one legends aboutHermann the Demented. And tell me, young man, what is to prevent my offering you as a sacrifice to my counsellor, the devil? People would say it served you right, for entering this unholy place. You had better depart before my familiar makes his appearance to sup with me, from the skulls of children. I assureyou, mynheer, that yonder stone bottle contains human blood. Fly, before the spell begins to work.'
"Although the old man frequently laughed while speaking, there was a hollowness, and unreal zest in his mirth, that made the young hunter shudder.
"'You have made a great mistake, Mynheer Hermann,' he replied calmly. 'I came here with no such despicable intentions as those you attribute to me. To be plain and honest with you, I am here to ask a gift of you.'
"'What is it, boy?'
"'Your daughter, mynheer.'
"Dropping the pipe, and springing to his feet, Hermann confronted his guest, glaring upon him with vindictive fury.
"'Wretch! dare you insult me?' he howled, gnashing his teeth.
"'Mynheer Hermann, be calm, I beseech you; you have obliged me to make the request thus abruptly, and I am willing to abide the consequences. I love Marcella, and she loves me. I would make her my wife.'
"For a moment, the father held his hand to his brow and fixed a glance upon the young hunter, as though to read his inmost soul; then turning quickly to his child, who sat near him, trembling with fear, he asked excitedly:
"'Is this true, Marcella?'
"'Yes, dear father,' she replied, arising from her seat, and laying her head fondly upon his breast.
"He looked down upon her beautiful face, suffused with tears, in silence; slowly the flash of anger fadedfrom his countenance, leaving the gleam of idolatrous affection shining there. The feelings of a parent overcame all others, and a bright drop glistened on his cheek.
"'My darling, my only treasure,' he murmured, pressing her closely to him. 'Your happiness is my only earthly object.'
"'Wilhelm,' he continued, placing his disengaged hand upon the youth's shoulder, 'I wronged you in my suspicions, and ask your forgiveness. Your face, as well as that of my darling, convince me that I wronged you. Yet I cannot grant you my child, until you have first heard somewhat of her history, and my own. Not but that she is a jewel, the proudest king might wear upon his bosom with honor,' he continued, with spirit; 'but no man shall ever accuse me of practising a lie.'
"He resumed his seat, still holding Marcella closely to his bosom, and went on:
"'To no other living being have I ever told my strange story, and there is that in your countenance, which tells me you are no traitor. Listen attentively to what I say: I was born on the estate of a nobleman in Transylvania, to whom my father was steward, and spent the happiest days of my existence roving about those vast domains, a free and joyous child. At the age of thirteen, I was placed in a school, where I advanced rapidly in learning, until I was the acknowledged phenomenon of the village, and the pride of my fond father. Years of unalloyed peace rolled over my head, during which I wooed the beautiful daughter of a landed gentleman—won and married her by stealth.Her father's rage knew no bounds in the first moments of discovery, and he threatened to separate us; but my wife's entreaties soon banished his anger, and we were soon received in full favor both by him and my own parents. Oh! what unsubstantial, foolish, joyous days were those! How did I idolize the girl, whom I had won, as a heathen worships his household god.
"'At length a fearful epidemic swept the country; my father was one of the first victims, and my heartbroken mother soon followed him, bequeathing us her dying benediction. It was my first trial, and in the bitterness of my grief, I left the familiar scenes of my boyhood. To this spot I came with my beautiful wife and built this cabin, resolving to spend the remainder of my days in these soothing solitudes. But my fate was yet to be accomplished. My father's employer found me out, and sent a message, earnestly requesting me to become his steward. Yielding to the importunities of my wife—for I could refuse her nothing—I accepted the proposal, and journeyed back to Transylvania with a heavy heart; for a cloud seemed hanging over me, a presentiment of sorrow to come. The nobleman received me more as an equal than as a servant, and uttered many encomiums on my father's worth, which could not but prove grateful to a heart like mine. I loved and honored him at once; and resolved to testify my gratitudë by a faithful discharge of my duties. He was still a young man, but I felt no jealousy, when the idol of my heart praised him, blind wretch that I was! At length, the cloud, so long forming, burst over me in a flood of misery. Almost immediately after the birth of our daughter, the fatherof my Marcella came to me and imparted a secret that almost deprived me of my senses. Poor old man! he thought I knew all before, and my ravings filled him with alarm. Frantically I swore revenge, and with murder in my heart, was about to seek the destroyer of my peace; but the old man restrained me, and after a violent debate, I resolved to say nothing to my wife about the matter, and kept a strict watch upon her. Alas! her father's suspicions proved too just. I surprised her in company with her paramour, and after loading them with the bitterest curses, took my daughter and returned to the hut under the cliff. My whole life was blighted, every hope was crushed; but the very madness of my despair gave me strength, and I swore vengeance on my enemy. On the evening of that fearful day, after lulling my unfortunate child to sleep, I knelt down on the flat stone before you, and in the fervor of delirium, called uponThe Spirits of Hartz Mountainsfor aid. Scarcely had the sacrilegious petition left my lips, when there came a gentle knocking at the door, accompanied by a shrill bugle note, signifying bewilderment in the forest. Like one in a dream, I answered the mysterious summons, and immediately a White Fawn bounded into the hut, followed by a tall stranger, wrapped in a cloak of fine material.
"'"You called me and I have come," he said, in tones that made me shudder, and peer into his eyes, in which there was a fearful fascination which I could not resist.
"'"Who are you?" I managed to articulate.
"'"Varno of The Black Forest," he answered, in avoice of rolling thunder. I know not why it was, but at his reply my fear vanished, and my wrongs arose before me in their darkest coloring.
"'"Can you aid me?" I asked, returning his piercing glance. Never shall I forget the fearful distinctness with which he said:
"'"Hermann Vandervelt, I know what you would require of me, and you shall be satisfied,but there is a price attached to my services; three requests shall be granted, and thenyou must be mine, soul and body. Will you swear to this?"
"'Like a maniac, I fell upon my knees before the stranger, shouting, in the height of passion: "Grant me butrevengeupon the betrayer of my honor, and I will be yours, eternally yours, soul and body yours; I swear by the God who—"
"'"Silence!" thundered the stranger, his eyes glowing like coals of withering, devouring fire.
"'"Hermann, you must swear by theSpirits of Hartz Mountains." Wrought up to frenzy, I obeyed him. He dictated a fearful oath, and when I had repeated it, he said, in tones that froze my blood:
"'"Hermann Vandervelt, take your rifle and seek your enemy; he shall fall by your hand. I will leave you this animal (pointing to the fawn,) and when you would see me, let it return to the forest. Remember, I have grantedonerequest;twomore shall be granted,and then you will be mine."
"'His horrid laugh is still ringing in my ears. In silence, I opened the door, and beheld, dimly through the darkness, a tall steed with blazing eyes, standingmotionless upon the plain. As the stranger passed me, a momentary chill, like that of the grave, fell upon me; he mounted, and I saw him no longer. Grasping my rifle, I fled through the darkness like a fiend of blood, the White Fawn following my footsteps like a hound. No rest, no meat, did I take until I saw my enemy lying before me, bleeding to death, while the Fawn lapped his blood.
"'"I am Hermann!" I shouted in his ears, and then flew back wildly, as I came. My child was nearly dead from neglect when I returned from the doubly-cursed spot; but I tended her faithfully, and she soon went forth with me to the forest; and the White Fawn never left her side.
"'I was a successful hunter at first; but suddenly my fortune changed, and I could get no more food. Then was the spell of madness on me once more, andI set the White Fawn free. Again there came a knocking at the door; again the Fawn sprang in, followed by its master.My second request was granted—there remains but one more!From that night my familiar has met me on the borders of the Black Forest nightly, and the darkest depths are filled with game for me. Such is my story, Wilhelm, and here, on my bosom, reposes the child of my affection. Speak boldly, as becomes a man; would you wed the daughter ofHermann, the Demented?'
"While the old man related his fearful story, various emotions were apparent on the handsome face of Wilhelm, but at its conclusion unwavering resolution was stamped upon his features.
"'Hermann!' he said, extending his right hand tothe old hunter, 'I sincerely pity you as the victim of circumstances, but the blight does not touch Marcella; I love her more dearly than ever, and if you will give her to me, she shall find in me a husband who would shed his last drop of blood for her.'
"'Wilhelm, you are worthy of my child, take her and may heaven grant you the blessings it has denied to me. Bring a holy man here to-morrow, and make her rightly yours. I would see her happy before I—' He suddenly paused, placed his weeping daughter in her lover's arms, and turned aside to hide the starting tear.
"Soon Wilhelm was wending his way over the plain, and the innocent Marcella retired to her narrow apartment of wolf skins; but the old man sat with his face beneath the lamp, and the White Fawn crouched beside him. Long did he meditate through the lonely watches of the night, and the sweat of agony stood upon his temples. Slowly did he stagger to where the wolf skins hung, and raising them in his trembling hands, dwelt mournfully upon the picture before him. There, on her couch, in all the artless grace of slumber, lay the only being on earth whom he loved. One faultless arm was hidden beneath the pillow, the other half shadowed her face, and bore a glossy veil of flaxen curls. Her ruby lips were apart, as though she had fallen asleep while yet the evening prayer was on her tongue. Dimly streamed the light of the swinging lamp upon the human temple of purity, and Hermann, the Demented, wept like an artless child.
"'It must be done—it is the last,' he murmured,dropping the rude partition, and quickly opening the cabin door.
"Swift as the meteor falling through the shades of night, flew the White Fawn out into the darkness, with a plaintive cry. With bowed head the old man clasped his hands and listened. He hears a shot, a bugle note echoes through the dew-ladened air, and the ghostly rider is again at his door.
"'You sent for me, and I am here,' said Varno, entering the cabin, and casting the White Fawn cold and dead, upon the floor.
"'I ask your aid!' said Hermann firmly.
"'Remember, it isthe third and last time,' muttered the stranger.
"'I will fulfil my oath. Grant me my wish.'
"'Beware!' thundered the other.
"'Speak not so loudly, or you will wake my child,' said the hunter, gazing fearfully toward where Marcella slept.
"'Fear not, good Hermann, the sleep of the innocent cannot be disturbed by a Spirit of Evil. Declare your wish and it shall be granted.'
"'Then hear me, fiend, devil, or whatever thou art! I would have my child happy; I would have her husband ever warm in his love for her as he is this moment; I would have the curse of her parents forever averted from her head. Grant me this and I am thine.'
"'It shall be so,' answered Varno, with something like pity in his tones. 'Thou must meet me at sunset on the evening of to-morrow, beside theWitch's Circle—thereshall our compact be fulfilled.This is the third and last. Remember.
"The dark spirit passed from the hut under the cliff but his shadow lingered behind; and the old hunter knelt beneath the swinging lamp, with the dead fawn at his feet, desolate and lone.
"The day smiled brightly on Marcella, the genial sunbeams dispelling night's horrors. She looked sadly when her father told her how the White Fawn had been wounded by some wandering hunter, and had sought the hut to die there; but the presence of Wilhelm made her cheerful as the morn, and Hermann felt rewarded for his sacrifice.
"A missionary monk stood within the old cabin, and said the words that joined two lives in one. When the holy rite was finished, the wedded pair knelt at the feet of The Demented, and called down Heaven's richest blessings on his head; but alas! he could not say 'Amen,' for he remembered his compact, and the words of Varno still rang in his ears. He watched his child with more than earthly care till the sun began to sink once more behind the Black Forest, then seizing his rifle, he kissed her blushing cheek, and sallied forth toward the mountains.
"'Dear father, may you soon give up such unholy pastimes,' murmured Marcella, looking fondly after him as his grey hairs floated in the wind.
"'God grant that he may,' murmured her husband, fervently, pressing her to his heart.
"But the old hunter returned no more. The wolf started as he lay in his lair, when a man rushed by his covert in the Black Forest. A bugle, wildly sounded, awokethe bird in his leafy bower. Two men met at the Witch's Circle, while a day was dying, and the shades of the wood closed over them forever."