University of Virginia Library

KING PEST.
A TALE CONTAINING AN ALLEGORY.

About twelve o'clock, one sultry night, in the
month of August, and during the chivalrous reign
of the third Edward, two seamen belonging to the
crew of the “Free and Easy,” a trading schooner
plying between Sluys and the Thames, and then at
anchor in that river, were much astonished to find
themselves seated in the tap-room of an ale-house in
the parish of St. Andrews, London—which ale-house
bore for sign the portraiture of a “Jolly Tar.”

The room, it is needless to say, although ill-contrived,
smoke-blackened, low-pitched, and in every
other respect agreeing with the general character of
such places at the period—was, nevertheless, in the
opinion of the grotesque groups scattered here and
there within it, sufficiently well adapted for its purpose.

Of these groups our two seamen formed, I think,
the most interesting, if not the most conspicuous.

The one who appeared to be the elder, and whom
his companion addressed by the characteristic appellation
of “Legs,” was also much the most ill-favored,
and, at the same time, much the taller of
the two. He might have measured six feet nine
inches, and an habitual stoop in the shoulders seemed
to have been the necessary consequence of an altitude
so enormous. Superfluities in height were,
however, more than accounted for by deficiencies
in other respects. He was exceedingly, wofully,
awfully thin; and might, as his associates asserted,
have answered, when sober, for a pennant at the
mast-head, or, when stiff with liquor, have served
for a jib-boom. But these jests, and others of a
similar nature, had evidently produced, at no time,
any effect upon the leaden muscles of the tar. With
high cheek-bones, a large hawk-nose, retreating chin,
fallen under-jaw, and huge protruding white eyes,
the expression of his countenance, although tinged
with a species of dogged indifference to matters and
things in general, was not the less utterly solemn
and serious beyond all attempts at imitation or
description.

The younger seaman was, in all outward appearance,
the antipodes of his companion. His
stature could not have exceeded four feet. A pair of
stumpy bow-legs supported his squat, unwieldy
figure, while his unusually short and thick arms,
with no ordinary fists at their extremities, swung off

dangling from his sides like the fins of a sea-turtle.
Small eyes, of no particular color, twinkled far back
in his head. His nose remained buried in the mass
of flesh which enveloped his round, full, and purple
face; and his thick upper-lip rested upon the still
thicker one beneath with an air of complacent self-satisfaction,
much heightened by the owner's habit
of licking them at intervals. He evidently regarded
his tall ship-mate with a feeling half-wondrous, half-quizzical;
and stared up occasionally in his face as
the red setting sun stares up at the crags of Ben
Nevis.

Various and eventful, however, had been the
peregrinations of the worthy couple in and about
the different tap-houses of the neighborhood during
the earlier hours of the night. Funds even the most
ample, are not always everlasting: and it was with
empty pockets our friends had ventured upon the
present hostelrie.

At the precise period, then, when this history properly
commences, Legs, and his fellow Hugh Tarpaulin,
sat, each with both elbows resting upon the
large oaken table in the middle of the floor, and
with a hand upon either cheek. They were eyeing,
from behind a huge flagon of unpaid-for. “humming-stuff,”
the portentous words “No Chalk,” which to
their indignation and astonishment were scored over
the doorway by means of that very mineral whose
presence they purported to deny. Not that the gift
of decyphering written characters—a gift among
the commonalty of that day considered little less

cabalistical than the art of inditing—could, in strict
justice, have been laid to the charge of either disciple
of the sea; but there was, to say the truth, a certain
twist in the formation of the letters—an indescribable
lee-lurch about the whole—which foreboded,
in the opinion of both seamen, a long run of dirty
weather; and determined them at once, in the pithy
words of Legs himself, to “pump ship, clew up all
sail, and scud before the wind.”

Having accordingly drank up what remained of
the ale, and looped up the points of their short
doublets, they finally made a bolt for the street.
Although Tarpaulin rolled twice into the fire-place,
mistaking it for the door, yet their escape was at
length happily effected—and half after twelve o'clock
found our heroes ripe for mischief, and running
for life down a dark alley in the direction of St.
Andrew's Stair, hotly pursued by the landlord and
landlady of the “Jolly Tar.”

At the epoch of this eventful tale, and periodically,
for many years before and after, all England,
but more especially the metropolis, resounded with
the fearful cry of “Pest!” The city was in a great
measure depopulated—and in those horrible regions,
in the vicinity of the Thames, where amid the dark,
narrow, and filthy lanes and alleys, the Demon of
Disease was supposed to have had his nativity, awe,
terror, and superstition were alone to be found stalking
abroad.

By authority of the king such districts were placed
under ban, and all persons forbidden, under pain of

death, to intrude upon their dismal solitude. Yet
neither the mandate of the monarch, nor the huge
barriers erected at the entrances of the streets, nor
the prospect of that loathsome death which, with
almost absolute certainty, overwhelmed the wretch
whom no peril could deter from the adventure, prevented
the unfurnished and untenanted dwellings
from being stripped, by the hand of nightly rapine,
of every article, such as iron, brass, or lead-work,
which could in any manner be turned to a profitable
account.

Above all, it was usually found, upon the annual
winter opening of the barriers, that locks, bolts, and
secret cellars, had proved but slender protection to
those rich stores of wines and liquors which, in consideration
of the risk and trouble of removal, many of
the numerous dealers having shops in the neighborhood
had consented to trust, during the period of
exile, to so insufficient a security.

But there were very few of the terror-stricken
people who attributed these doings to the agency
of human hands. Pest-spirits, Plague-goblins, and
Fever-demons, were the popular imps of mischief;
and tales so blood-chilling were hourly told, that the
whole mass of forbidden buildings was, at length,
enveloped in terror as in a shroud, and the plunderer
himself was often scared away by the horrors his
own depredations had created; leaving the entire
vast circuit of prohibited district to gloom, silence,
pestilence, and death.

It was by one of these terrific barriers already

mentioned, and which indicated the region beyond to
be under the Pest-ban, that, in scrambling down an
alley, Legs and the worthy Hugh Tarpaulin found
their progress suddenly impeded. To return was out
of the question, and no time was to be lost, as their
pursuers were close upon their heels. With thoroughbred
seamen to clamber up the roughly fashioned
plank-work was a trifle; and, maddened with the
twofold excitement of exercise and liquor, they leaped
unhesitatingly down within the enclosure, and holding
on their drunken course with shouts and yellings,
were soon bewildered in its noisome and intricate
recesses.

Had they not, indeed, been intoxicated beyond all
sense of human feelings, their reeling footsteps must
have been palsied by the horrors of their situation.
The air was damp, cold and misty. The paving-stones,
loosened from their beds, lay in wild disorder amid
the tall, rank grass, which sprang up hideously around
the feet and ankles. Rubbish of fallen houses choked
up the streets. The most fetid and poisonous smells
every where prevailed—and by the occasional aid
of that ghastly and uncertain light which, even at
midnight, never fails to emanate from a vapory and
pestilential atmosphere, might be discerned lying in
the by-paths and alleys, or rotting in the windowless
habitations, the carcass of many a nocturnal plunderer
arrested by the hand of the plague in the very perpetration
of his robbery.

But it lay not in the power of images, or sensations,
or impediments like these, to stay the course of men

who, naturally brave, and at that time especially,
brimful of courage and of “humming-stuff,” would
have reeled, as straight as their condition might have
permitted, undauntedly into the very jaws of the
arch-angel Death. Onward—still onward stalked
the gigantic Legs, making the desolate solemnity
echo and re-echo with yells like the terrific war-whoop
of the Indian: and onward—still onward rolled the
dumpy Tarpaulin, hanging on to the doublet of his
more active companion, and far surpassing the latter's
most strenuous exertions in the way of vocal music,
by bull-roarings in basso, from the profundity of his
stentorian lungs.

They had now evidently reached the strong hold
of the pestilence. Their way at every step or plunge
grew more noisome and more horrible—the paths
more narrow and more intricate. Huge stones and
beams falling momently from the decaying roofs
above them, gave evidence, by their sullen and heavy
descent, of the vast height of the surrounding buildings,
while actual exertion became necessary to force a
passage through frequent heaps of putrid human
corpses.[4]

Suddenly, as the seamen stumbled against the entrance
of a gigantic and ghastly-looking building, a
yell more than usually shrill from the throat of the
excited Legs, was replied to from within in a rapid
succession of wild, laughter-like, and fiendish shrieks.

Nothing daunted at sounds which, of such a nature,
at such a time, and in such a place, might have
curdled the very blood in hearts less irrecoverably
on fire, the drunken couple burst open the pannels of
the door, and staggered into the midst of things with
a volley of curses. It is not to be supposed, however,
that the scene which here presented itself to the eyes
of the gallant Legs and worthy Tarpaulin, produced
at first sight any other effect upon their illuminated
faculties than an overwhelming sensation of stupid
astonishment.

The room within which they found themselves
proved to be the shop of an undertaker—but an open
trap-door, in a corner of the floor near the entrance,
looked down upon a long range of wine-cellars,
whose depths the occasional sounds of bursting bottles
proclaimed to be well stored with their appropriate
contents. In the middle of the room stood a table—
in the centre of which again arose a huge tub of
what appeared to be punch. Bottles of various wines
and cordials, together with grotesque jugs, pitchers,
and flagons of every shape and quality, were scattered
profusely upon the board. Around it, upon coffin-tressels,
was seated a company of six—this company
I will endeavor to delineate one by one.

Fronting the entrance, and elevated a little above
his companions, sat a personage who appeared to be
the president of the table. His stature was gaunt
and tall, and Legs was confounded to behold in him
a figure more emaciated than himself. His face was
yellower than the yellowest saffron—but no feature

of his visage, excepting one alone, was sufficiently
marked to merit a particular description. This one
consisted in a forehead so unusually and hideously
lofty, as to have the appearance of a bonnet or crown
of flesh superseded upon the natural head. His mouth
was puckered and dimpled into a singular expression
of ghastly affability, and his eyes, as indeed the eyes
of all at table, were glazed over with the fumes of
intoxication. This gentleman was clothed from head
to foot in a richly embroidered black silk-velvet pall
wrapped negligently around his form after the fashion
of a Spanish cloak. His head was stuck all full of
tall sable hearse-plumes, which he nodded to and fro
with a jaunty and knowing air, and, in his right hand,
he held a huge human thigh-bone, with which he appeared
to have been just knocking down some member
of the company for a song.

Opposite him, and with her back to the door, was
a lady of no whit the less extraordinary character.
Although quite as tall as the person who has just
been described, she had no right to complain of his
unnatural emaciation. She was evidently in the last
stage of a dropsy; and her figure resembled nearly
in outline the shapeless proportions of the huge
puncheon of October beer which stood, with the head
driven in, close by her side, in a corner of the
chamber. Her face was exceedingly round, red, and
full—and the same peculiarity, or rather want of
peculiarity, attached itself to her countenance, which
I before mentioned in the case of the president—that

is to say, only one feature of her face was sufficiently
distinguished to need a separate characterization:
indeed, the acute Tarpaulin immediately observed
that the same remark might have applied to each
individual person of the party; every one of whom
seemed to possess a monopoly of some particular portion
of physiognomy. With the lady in question
this portion proved to be the mouth. Commencing
at the right ear, it swept with a terrific chasm to the
left—the short pendants which she wore in either
auricle continually bobbing into the aperture. She
made, however, every exertion to keep her jaws
closed and looked dignified, in a dress consisting of
a newly starched and ironed shroud coming up close
under her chin, with a crimped ruffle of cambric
muslin.

At her right hand sat a diminutive young lady
whom she appeared to patronise. This delicate little
creature, in the trembling of her wasted fingers, in
the livid hue of her lips, and in the slight hectic spot
which tinged her otherwise leaden complexion, gave
evident indications of a galloping consumption. An
air of extreme haut ton, however, pervaded her whole
appearance—she wore, in a graceful and degagé

manner, a large and beautiful winding-sheet of the
finest India lawn—her hair hung in ringlets over
her neck—a soft smile played about her mouth—
but her nose, extremely long, thin, sinuous, flexible,
and pimpled, hung down far below her under lip, and
in spite of the delicate manner in which she now and

then moved it to one side or the other with her
tongue, gave an expression rather doubtful to her
countenance.

Over against her, and upon the left of the dropsical
lady, was seated a little puffy, wheezing, and gouty
old man, whose cheeks hung down upon the shoulders
of their owner, like two huge bladders of Oporto
wine. With his arms folded, and with one bandaged
leg cocked up against the table, he seemed to think
himself entitled to some consideration. He evidently
prided himself much upon every inch of his personal
appearance, but took more especial delight in calling
attention to his gaudy-colored surcoat. This, to say
the truth, must have cost no little money, and was
made to fit him exceedingly well—being fashioned
from one of the curiously embroidered silken covers
appertaining to those glorious escutcheons which,
in England and elsewhere, are customarily hung up
in some conspicuous place upon the dwellings of
departed aristocracy.

Next to him, and at the right hand of the president,
was a gentleman in long white hose and cotton
drawers. His frame shook, in a ludicrous manner,
with a fit of what Tarpaulin called “the horrors.”
His jaws, which had been newly shaved, were tightly
tied up by a bandage of muslin; and his arms being
fastened in a similar way at the wrists, prevented
him from helping himself too freely to the liquors
upon the table; a precaution rendered necessary, in the
opinion of Legs, by the peculiarly sottish and wine-bibbing
cast of his visage. A pair of prodigious

ears, nevertheless, which it was no doubt found impossible
to confine, towered away into the atmosphere
of the apartment, and were occasionally pricked
up, or depressed, as the sounds of bursting bottles
increased, or died away, in the cellars underneath.

Fronting him, sixthly and lastly, was situated a
singularly stiff-looking personage, who, being afflicted
with paralysis, must, to speak seriously, have felt very
ill at ease in his unaccommodating habiliments. He
was habited, somewhat uniquely, in a new and handsome
mahogany coffin. The top or head-piece of
the coffin pressed upon the skull of the wearer, and
extended over it in the fashion of a hood, giving to
the entire face an air of indescribable interest. Arm-holes
had been cut in the sides, for the sake not
more of elegance than of convenience—but the dress,
nevertheless, prevented its proprietor from sitting as
erect as his associates; and as he lay reclining
against his tressel, at an angle of forty-five degrees,
a pair of huge goggle eyes rolled up their awful
whites towards the ceiling in absolute amazement at
their own enormity.

Before each of the party lay a portion of a skull,
which was used as a drinking cup. Overhead was
suspended an enormous human skeleton, by means
of a rope tied round one of the legs and fastened to
a ring in the ceiling. The other limb, confined by
no such fetter, stuck off from the body at right
angles, causing the whole loose and rattling frame
to dangle and twirl about in a singular manner, at
the caprice of every occasional puff of wind which

found its way into the apartment. In the cranium
of this hideous thing lay a quantity of ignited and
glowing charcoal, which threw a fitful but vivid
light over the entire scene; while coffins, and other
wares appertaining to the shop of an undertaker,
were piled high up around the room, and against the
windows, preventing any straggling ray from escaping
into the street.

It has been before hinted that at sight of this extraordinary
assembly, and of their still more extraordinary
paraphernalia, our two seamen did not
conduct themselves with that proper degree of
decorum which might have been expected. Legs,
having leant himself back against the wall, near
which he happened to be standing, dropped his lower
jaw still lower than usual, and spread open his eyes
to their fullest extent: while Hugh Tarpaulin, stooping
down so as to bring his nose upon a level with
the table, and spreading out a palm upon either knee,
burst into a long, loud, and obstreperous roar of
very ill-timed and immoderate laughter.

Without, however, taking offence at behavior so
excessively rude, the tall president smiled very
graciously upon the intruders—nodded to them
in a dignified manner with his head of sable plumes
—and, arising, took each by an arm, and led him
to a seat which some others of the company had
placed in the meantime for his accommodation.
Legs to all this offered not the slightest resistance,
but sat down as he was directed—while the gallant
Hugh, removing his coffin-tressel from its station

near the head of the table, to the vicinity of the little
consumptive lady in the winding-sheet, plumped
down by her side in high glee, and, pouring out a
skull of red wine, drank it off to their better acquaintance.
But at this presumption the stiff gentleman
in the coffin seemed exceedingly nettled; and
serious consequences might have ensued, had not the
president, rapping upon the table with his truncheon,
diverted the attention of all present to the following
speech:

“It becomes our duty upon the present happy
occasion”—

“Avast there!”—interrupted Legs, looking very
serious—“avast there a bit, I say, and tell us who
the devil ye all are, and what business ye have here,
rigged off like the foul fiends, and swilling the snug
`blue ruin' stowed away for the winter by my
honest shipmate Will Wimble the undertaker!”

At this unpardonable piece of ill-breeding, all the
original company half started to their feet, and uttered
the same rapid succession of wild fiendish shrieks
which had before caught the attention of the seamen.
The president, however, was the first to recover his
composure, and at length, turning to Legs with great
dignity, recommenced:

“Most willingly will we gratify any reasonable
curiosity on the part of guests so illustrious, unbidden
though they be. Know then that in these dominions
I am monarch, and here rule with undivided empire
under the title of `King Pest the First.'

“This apartment which you no doubt profanely

suppose to be the shop of Will Wimble the undertaker—a
man whom we know not, and whose
plebeian appellation has never before this night
thwarted our royal ears—this apartment, I say, is
the Dais-Chamber of our Palace, devoted to the
councils of our kingdom, and to other sacred and
lofty purposes.

“The noble lady who sits opposite is Queen Pest,
and our Serene Consort. The other exalted person-ages
whom you behold are all of our family, and
wear the insignia of the blood royal under the respective
titles of `His Grace the Arch Duke Pest-Iferous'—`His
Grace the Duke Pest-Ilential'—
`His Grace the Duke Tem-Pest'—and `Her Serene
Highness the Arch Duchess Ana-Pest.'

“As regards”—continued he—“your demand
of the business upon which we sit here in council,
we might be pardoned for replying that it concerns,
and concerns alone, our own private and regal interest,
and is in no manner important to any other
than ourself. But in consideration of those rights to
which as guests and strangers you may feel yourselves
entitled, we will furthermore explain that we
are here this night, prepared by deep research and
accurate investigation, to examine, analyze, and
thoroughly determine the indefinable spirit—the incomprehensible
qualities and nare—of those inestimable
treasures of the palate, the wines, ales, and
liqueurs of this goodly metropolis: by so doing to
advance not more our own designs than the true
welfare of that unearthly sovereign whose reign is

over us all—whose dominions are unlimited—and
whose name is `Death.' ”

“Whose name is Davy Jones!”—ejaculated Tarpaulin,
helping the lady by his side to a skull of
liqueur, and pouring out a second for himself.

“Profane varlet!”—said the president, now turning
his attention to the worthy Hugh—“profane
and execrable wretch!—we have said, that in consideration
of those rights which, even in thy filthy
person, we feel no inclination to violate, we have
condescended to make reply to your rude and unseasonable
inquiries. We, nevertheless, for your
unhallowed intrusion upon our councils, believe it
our duty to mulct you and your companion in each
a gallon of Black Strap—having imbibed which to
the prosperity of our kingdom—at a single draught
—and upon your bended knees—you shall be forth-with
free either to proceed upon your way, or
remain and be admitted to the privileges of our
table, according to your respective and individual
pleasures.”

“It would be a matter of utter unpossibility”—
replied Legs, whom the assumptions and dignity of
King Pest the First had evidently inspired with some
feelings of respect, and who arose and steadied himself
by the table as he spoke—“it would, please
your majesty, be a matter of utter unpossibility to
stow away in my hold even one-fourth of that same
liquor which your majesty has just mentioned. To
say nothing of the stuffs placed on board in the
forenoon by way of ballast, and not to mention the

various ales and liqueurs shipped this evening at
different sea-ports, I am, at present, full up to the
throat of `humming-stuff' taken in and duly paid for
at the sign of the `Jolly Tar.' You will, therefore,
please your majesty, be so good as take the will for
the deed—for by no manner of means either can I
or will I swallow another drop—least of all a drop
of that villanous bilge-water that answers to the hail
of `Black Strap.' ”

“Belay that!”—interrupted Tarpaulin, astonished
not more at the length of his companion's speech
than at the nature of his refusal—“Belay that you
lubber!—and I say, Legs, none of your palaver!
My hull is still light, although I confess you yourself
seem to be a little top-heavy; and as for the matter
of your share of the cargo, why rather than raise a
squall I would find stowage-room for it myself,
but”—

“This proceeding”—interposed the president—
“is by no means in accordance with the terms of
the mulct or sentence, which is in its nature Median,
and not to be altered or recalled. The conditions
we have imposed must be fulfilled to the letter, and
that without a moment's hesitation—in failure of
which fulfilment we decree that you do here be tied
neck and heels together, and duly drowned as rebels
in yon hogshead of October beer!”

“A sentence!—a sentence!—a righteous and
just sentence!—a glorious decree!—a most worthy
and upright, and holy condemnation!”—shouted the
Pest family altogether. The king elevated his forehead

into innumerable wrinkles—the gouty little old man
puffed like a pair of bellows—the lady of the winding
sheet waved her nose to and fro—the gentleman
in the cotton drawers pricked up his ears—she
of the shroud gasped like a dying fish—and he of
the coffin looked stiff and rolled up his eyes.

“Ugh! ugh! ugh!”—chuckled Tarpaulin without
heeding the general excitation—“ugh! ugh!
ugh!—ugh! ugh! ugh! ugh!—ugh! ugh! ugh!
I was saying,”—said he, “I was saying when
Mr. King Pest poked in his marling-spike, that
as for the matter of two or three gallons more or
less Black Strap, it was a trifle to a tight sea-boat
like myself not overstowed—but when it comes
to drinking the health of the Devil—whom God
assoilzie—and going down upon my marrow bones
to his ill-favored majesty there, whom I know, as
well as I know myself to be a sinner, to be nobody
in the whole world but Tim Hurlygurly, the stage-player—why!
its quite another guess sort of a
thing, and utterly and altogether past my comprehension.”

He was not allowed to finish this speech in tranquillity.
At the name of Tim Hurlygurly the whole
assembly leaped from their seats.

“Treason!” shouted his Majesty King Pest the
First.

“Treason!” said the little man with the gout.

“Treason!” screamed the Arch Duchess Ana-Pest.

“Treason!” muttered the gentleman with his jaws
tied up.

“Treason!” growled he of the coffin.

“Treason!” treason!” shrieked her majesty of
the mouth; and, seizing by the hinder part of his
breeches the unfortunate Tarpaulin, who had just
commenced pouring out for himself a skull of liqueur,
she lifted him high up into the air, and dropped him
without ceremony into the huge open puncheon of
his beloved ale. Bobbing up and down, for a few
seconds, like an apple in a bowl of toddy, he, at
length, finally disappeared amid the whirlpool of
foam which, in the already effervescent liquor, his
struggles easily succeeded in creating.

Not tamely however did the tall seaman behold the
discomfiture of his companion. Jostling King Pest
through the open trap, the valiant Legs slammed the
door down upon him with an oath, and strode towards
the centre of the room. Here tearing down
the huge skeleton which swung over the table, he
laid it about him with so much energy and good will,
that, as the last glimpses of light died away within
the apartment, he succeeded in knocking out the
brains of the little gentleman with the gout. Rushing
then with all his force against the fatal hogshead
full of October ale and Hugh Tarpaulin, he rolled it
over and over in an instant. Out burst a deluge of
liquor so fierce—so impetuous—so overwhelming
—that the room was flooded from wall to wall—
the loaded table was overturned—the tressels were
thrown upon their backs—the tub of punch into the

fire-place—and the ladies into hysterics. Jugs,
pitchers, and carboys mingled promiscuously in the
melée, and wicker flagons encountered desperately
with bottles of junk. Piles of death-furniture floundered
about. Skulls floated en masse—hearse-plumes
nodded to escutcheons—the man with the horrors
was drowned upon the spot—the little stiff gentleman
sailed off in his coffin—and the victorious Legs,
seizing by the waist the fat lady in the shroud,
scudded out into the street, followed under easy sail
by the redoubtable Hugh Tarpaulin, who, having
sneezed three or four times, panted and puffed after
him with the Arch Duchess Ana-Pest.