The Ingoldsby Legends :: :: University of Virginia Library

“It was in such an hour as this,
On such a wild and wintry day,
The forked lightning seem'd to hiss,
As now, athwart our lonely way,
When first these dubious paths I tried—
Yon livid form was by my side!—

“Not livid then—the ruddy glow
Of life, and youth, and health it bore!
And bloodless was that gory brow,
And cheerful was the smile it wore,
And mildly then those eyes did shine—
—Those eyes which now are blasting mine

“They beam'd with confidence and love
Upon my face,—and Andrew Brand
Had sooner fear'd yon frighten'd dove
Than harm from Gervase Matcham's hand!
—I am no Harry Waters—men
Did call me Gervase Matcham then.

“And Matcham, though a humble name,
Was stainless as the feathery flake
From Heaven, whose virgin whiteness came
Upon the newly-frozen lake;

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Commander, comrade, all began
To laud the Soldier,—like the Man.

“Nay, muse not, William,—I have said
I was a soldier—staunch and true
As any he above whose head
Old England's lion banner flew;
And, duty done,—her claim apart,—
'Twas said I had a kindly heart.

“And years roll'd on, and with them came
Promotion—Corporal—Sergeant—all
In turn—I kept mine honest fame—
Our Colonel's self,—whom men did call
The veriest Martinet—ev'n he,
Though cold to most, was kind to me!—

“One morn—oh! may that morning stand
Accursed in the rolls of fate
Till latest time!—there came command
To carry forth a charge of weight
To a detachment far away,—
—It was their regimental pay!—

“And who so fit for such a task
As trusty Matcham, true and tried,
Who spurn'd the inebriating flask,
With honour for his constant guide?—
On Matcham fell their choice—and He,—
“Young Drum,”—should bear him company!

“And grateful was that sound to hear,
For he was full of life and joy,
The mess-room pet—to each one dear
Was that kind, gay, light-hearted boy.
—The veriest churl in all our band
Had aye a smile for Andrew Brand.—

“—Nay, glare not as I name thy name!
That threatening hand, that fearful brow
Relax—avert that glance of flame!
Thou see'st I do thy bidding now!

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Vex'd Spirit, rest!—'twill soon be o'er,—
Thy blood shall cry to Heav'n no more!

“Enough—we journey'd on—the walk
Was long,—and dull and dark the day,—
And still young Andrew's cheerful talk
And merry laugh beguiled the way;
Noon came, a sheltering bank was there,—
We paused our frugal meal to share.

“Then 'twas, with cautious hand, I sought
To prove my charge secure,—and drew
The packet from my vest, and brought
The glittering mischief forth to view,
And Andrew cried,—No!—'twas not He!—
It was The Tempter spoke to me!

“But it was Andrew's laughing voice
That sounded in my tingling ear,
—‘Now, Gervase Matcham, at thy choice,’
It seem'd to say, ‘are gauds and gear.
And all that wealth can buy or bring,
Ease,—wassail,—worship,—everything!

“‘No tedious drill, no long parade,
No bugle call at early dawn;
For guard-room bench, or barrack bed,
The downy couch, the sheets of lawn;
And I thy Page,—thy steps to tend,
Thy sworn companion,—servant,—friend!’

“He ceased—that is, I heard no more,
Though other words pass'd idly by,
And Andrew chatter'd as before,
And laugh'd—I mark'd him not—not I.
‘'Tis at thy choice!’ that sound alone
Rang in mine ear—voice else was none.

“I could not eat,—the untasted flask
Mock'd my parch'd lip,—I pass'd it by.
‘What ails thee, man?’ he seem'd to ask.—
I felt, but could not meet his eye.—

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‘'Tis at thy choice!’—it sounded yet—
A sound I never may forget.

—“‘Haste! haste! the day draws on,’ I cried,
‘And Andrew, thou hast far to go!’—
‘Hast far to go!’ the Fiend replied
Within me,—'twas not Andrew—no!
'Twas Andrew's voice no more—'twas He
Whose then I was, and aye must be!

—On, on we went:—the dreary plain
Was all around us—we were Here!
Then came the storm,—the lightning,—rain,—
No earthly living thing was near,
Save one wild Raven on the wing,
—If that, indeed, were earthly thing!

“I heard its hoarse and screaming voice
High hovering o'er my frenzied head,
‘'Tis Gervase Matcham, at thy choice!
But he—the Boy!’ methought it said.
—Nay, Andrew, check that vengeful frown,—
I loved thee when I struck thee down!