 | Sheppard Lee |  |
SHEPPARD LEE.
BOOK I.
CONTAINING INSTRUCTIONS HOW TO SPEND AND
HOW TO RETRIEVE A FORTUNE.
1. CHAPTER I.
The Author's Preface,—which the reader, if in a great hurry, or if it
be his practice to read against time, can skip.
I have often debated in my mind whether I
should give to the world, or for ever lock up within
the secrecy of my own breast, the history of the
adventures which it has been my lot in life to experience.
The importance of any single individual
in society, especially one so isolated as myself, is
so little, that it can scarcely be supposed that the
community at large can be affected by his fortunes,
either good or evil, or interested in any way in
his fate. Yet it sometimes happens that circumstances
conspire to elevate the humblest person
from obscurity, and to give the whole world an
interest in his affairs; and that man may safely
consider himself of some value in his generation,
whose history is of a character to instruct the ignorant
and inexperienced. Such a man I consider
life, the more I am convinced it contains a lesson
which may be studied with profit; while, at the
same time, if I am not greatly mistaken, the lesson
will be found neither dry nor repulsive, but here
and there, on the contrary, quite diverting. The
psychologist (I hate big words, but one cannot do
without them) and the metaphysician will discover
in my relation some new subjects for reflection;
and so perhaps will the doctor of medicine and
the physiologist: but while I leave these learned
gentlemen to discuss what may appear most wonderful
in my revealments, I am most anxious that
the common reader may weigh the value of what
is, at least in appearance, more natural, simple, and
comprehensible.
It will be perceived that many of the following
adventures are of a truly extraordinary character.
There are some men—and to such my story will
seem incredible enough—who pride themselves on
believing nothing that they do not know, and who
endeavour, very absurdly, to restrict the objects of
belief to those that admit of personal cognizance.
There are others again who boast the same maxim,
but have a more liberal understanding of the subjects
of knowledge, and permit themselves to believe
many things which are susceptible of satisfactory
proof, but not of direct cognition. Now
I must declare beforehand, in order to avoid all
trouble, that, from the very nature of the life I
have led, consisting of the strangest transitions and
proofs to satisfy any one of the truth of my relation
who is disposed to be incredulous. If any
one should say, “I doubt,” all the answer I could
make would be, “Doubt, and be hanged,”—not,
however, meaning any offence to anybody; though
it is natural one should be displeased at having his
veracity questioned. I write for the world at large,
which is neither philosophic nor skeptical; and the
world will believe me: otherwise it is a less sensible
world than I have all along supposed it to be.
2. CHAPTER II.
The birth and family of Sheppard Lee, with some account of his
temper and complexion of mind.
I was born somewhere towards the close of the
last century,—but, the register-leaf having been
torn from the family Bible, and no one remaining
who can give me information on the point, I am
not certain as to the exact year,—in the State of
New-Jersey, in one of the oldest counties that
border upon the Delaware river. My father was
a farmer in very good circumstances, respectable
in his degree, but perhaps more famous for the
excellent sausages he used to manufacture for the
Philadelphia market, than for any quality of mind or
body that can distinguish one man from his fellows.
produce, he gradually converted his whole estate
into a market-farm, raising fine fruits and vegetables,
and such other articles as are most in demand
in a city; in which enterprise he succeeded beyond
his highest expectations, and bade fair to be,
as in the end he became, a rich man. The only
obstacle to a speedy accumulation of riches was a
disproportionate increase in the agents of consumption,—his
children multiplying on his hands almost
as fast as his acres, until he could count eleven in
all; a number that filled him at one time with
consternation. He used to declare no apple could
be expected to ripen on a farm where there were
eleven children; and as for watermelons and sugar-corn,
it was folly to think of raising them longer.
But fate sent my father relief sooner and
more effectually than he either expected or desired:
nine of the eleven being removed by death in a
space of time short of six years. Three (two of
whom were twin sisters) were translated in the
natural way, falling victims to an epidemic, and
were buried in the same grave. A fourth was
soon after killed by falling out of an apple-tree.
My eldest brother, then a boy of fourteen years
old, upon some freak, ran away from home (for he
was of a wild, madcap turn), and, getting into an
oyster-boat, made a voyage into the bay, where
he was lost; for, having fallen overboard, and not
being able to swim, a clumsy fellow, who thought
to save him in that way, clutched him round the
him. Two others were drowned in a millpond,
where they were scraping for snapping-turtles.
Another, who was the wag of the family,
was killed by attempting to ride a pig, which, running
in great alarm through a broken fence into
the orchard, dashed his brains out against a white-oak
rail; and the ninth died of a sort of hysterical
affection, caused by this unlucky exploit of his
brother; for he could not cease laughing at it, notwithstanding
its melancholy termination, and he
died of the fit within twenty-four hours.
Thus, in a few years, there remained but two of
all the eleven children,—to wit, my oldest sister
Prudence and myself. My mother (from whom I
had my Christian name Sheppard, that being her
maiden name) died several years before this last
catastrophe, her mind having been affected, and
indeed distracted, by so many mournful losses occurring
in such rapid succession. She fell into a
deep melancholy, and died insane.
Being one of the youngest children, I grieved
but little for the loss of my brothers and sisters;
nor was I able to appreciate the advantage which,
in a worldly point of view, their death must prove
to me. My father, however, perceived the difference;
for, having now so few to look after and
be chargeable to him, he could with great propriety
consider himself a rich man. He immediately
resolved, as I was now his only son, that I
should have a good education; and it was not his
I was sent to good schools, and, in
course of time, was removed to the college at
Nassau Hall, in Princeton, where I remained during
three years; that is, until my father's decease;
when I yielded to the natural indolence
of my temper, and left the college, or rather (for
I had formed no resolution on the subject) procrastinated
my return from day to day, until it was too
late to return.
My natural disposition was placid and easy,—I
believe I may say sluggish. I was not wanting in
parts, but had as little energy or activity of mind as
ever fell to the share of a Jerseyman; and how my
father ever came to believe I should make a figure
in the world, I cannot conceive, unless it was because
he knew he had a fortune to leave me, and
saw me safely lodged in a college. It is very certain
he encouraged a strong belief that I should
one day be a great man; and, I fancy, it was for
this reason he showed himself so favourable to me
in his will. He left me the bulk of his property,
bestowing upon my sister, who had recently married,
little beyond a farm which he had purchased
in a neighbouring county, but which was a valuable
one, and quite satisfied her husband.
But my father was a better judge of sausages
than of human character. Besides being deficient,
as I humbly confess, in all those qualities that are
necessary to the formation of a great man, I had
not the slightest desire to be one. Ambition was
so indifferent to the game of greatness which was
playing around me, that, I seriously declare, there
was a President of the United States elected to
office, and turned out again, after having served
his regular term, without my knowing any thing
about it. I had not even the desire, so common
to young men who find themselves in possession
of a fortune, to launch out into elegant expenses,
to dash about the country with fine horses, servants,
and clothes, and to play the spendthrift in
cities. On the contrary, I no sooner found myself
arrived at my majority, which was a few
months after my father's death, than I sat down
very quietly on the farm, resolved to take the
world easily; which I supposed I might easily do.
I had some idea of continuing to conduct the estate,
as my father had done before me; but it was a
very vague one; and having made one or two
efforts to bear myself like a man of business,
I soon found the effort was too tiresome for one
of my disposition; and I accordingly hired an
overseer to manage the property for me.
3. CHAPTER III.
The pleasures of having nothing to do.—Some thoughts on
Matrimony.
Having thus shuffled the cares of business from
my shoulders to another's, my time began to
weigh a little heavily on my hands, and I cast
about for some amusement that might enable me
to get rid of it. As there was great abundance of
small game, such as quails, partridges, and rabbits,
in the neighbourhood, I resolved to turn
sportman; and, in consequence, I bought me a
dog and gun, and began to harry the country with
some spirit. But having the misfortune to shoot
my dog the first day, and, soon after, a very valuable
imported cow, belonging to a neighbour, for
which I was obliged to pay him enormous damages,
and meeting besides with but little luck, I
grew disgusted with the diversion. My last shot
was soon fired; for, having forgotten the provisions
of our game-laws, I killed a woodcock
too early in the summer, for which, on the information
of a fellow who owed me a grudge, I was
prosecuted, although it was the only bird I ever
killed in all my life, and soundly fined; and this
incensed me so much, that I resolved to have
nothing more to do with an amusement that cost
I was then at a loss how to pass my time, until
a neighbour, who bred fine horses, persuaded me
to buy a pair of blooded colts, and try my luck on
the turf; and this employment, though rather too
full of cares and troubles to suit me exactly, I
followed with no little spirit, and became more
proud of my horses than I can well express, until
I came to try them on the race-course, where it
was my luck, what with stakes and betting together,
to lose more money in a single day, than
my father had ever made in two years together.
I then saw very clearly that horse-racing was
nothing better than gambling, and therefore both
disreputable and demoralizing; for which reason I
instantly gave it up, heartily sick of the losses it
had occasioned me.
My overseer, or steward,—for such he may be
considered,—whom I always esteemed a very sensible
fellow, for he was shrewd and energetic, and
at least ten years my senior, then advised me, as I
was a young man, with money enough, to travel a
little, and see the world: and accordingly I went
to New-York, where I was robbed of my luggage
and money by a villain whose acquaintance I made
in the steamboat, and whom I thought a highly
intelligent, gentlemanly personage; though, as it
afterward appeared, he was a professor from Sing-Sing,
where he had been sawing stone for two
years, the governor of New-York having forgiven
which he was committed for, I believe, a fraud
committed on his own father.
This loss drove me home again; but being re-encouraged
by my overseer, I filled my purse and
set out a second time, passing up the Hudson
river, with which I was prodigiously pleased,
though not with the Overslaugh, where we stuck
fast during six hours. I then proceeded to Saratoga,
where I remained for two weeks, on account
of its being fashionable; but, I declare to Heaven,
I was never so tired of any place in my life. I
then went to Niagara, which, in spite of the great
noise it made, I thought the finest place in the
world; and there, I think, I should have continued
all summer, had it not been for the crowds of tiresome
people that were eternally coming and going,
and the great labour of climbing up and down the
stairs. However, I was so greatly pleased with
what I saw, both at Niagara and along the way,
that I should have repeated my travels in after
years, as the most agreeable way of passing time,
had it not been for the dangers and miseries of
such enterprises; for, first, the coaches were perpetually
falling over, or sticking in the mud, or jolting
over stones, so that one had no security of life
or limb; and, secondly, the accommodations at
the inns along the road were not to my liking, the
food being cooked after the primitive systems of
Shem, Ham, and Japheth, and the beds stuck together
in the rooms as if for boys at a boarding-school.
ordered now; but, from what I have since seen
and heard, I am of opinion there is a fine field for
cooks, carpenters, and chamber-maids, in the agricultural
regions of America. In those days I loved
ease and comfort too well to submit to such evils
as could be avoided; and, accordingly, after a little
experience in the matter, I ceased travelling altogether,
the pleasures bearing no sort of proportion
to the discomforts.
My time still weighing upon my hands, I was
possessed with a sudden idea (which my steward,
however, endeavoured to combat), namely,
that the tedium of my existence might be dispelled
by matrimony; and I resolved to look around me
for a wife. After much casting about, I fixed my
eyes upon a young lady of the village (for I must
inform the reader that my farm was on the skirts
of a village, and a very respectable one too, although
there were many lazy people in it), who, I
thought, was well fitted to make me comfortable;
and as she did not seem averse to my first advances,
I began to be quite particular, until all the old
women in the country declared it was a match,
and all the young fellows of my own age, as well
as all the girls I knew, became extremely witty
at my expense. These things, however, rather
encouraged me than otherwise; I believed I was
advancing my happiness by the change I contemplated
in my condition; and I was just on the
point of making formal proposals to the young
enterprise entirely in a new light.
My charmer lived in the house of a married sister,
who had a large family of children,—a pack of the
most ill-bred imps, I verily believe, that were ever
gathered together in any one man's house; but, for
politeness' sake, during the first weeks of my courtship,
the young sinners were kept out of my way,
and, what with cuffing and feeding with sugarplums,
were preserved in some sort of order, so
that I was not annoyed by them. After a while,
however, and when matters had proceeded some
length, it was thought unnecessary to treat me
longer as a stranger; the children were suffered
to take care of themselves; and the consequence
was, that, in a short time, I found myself in a kind
of Pandemonium whenever I entered the house,
with such a whining, and squeaking, and tumbling,
and bawling, and fighting among the young ones,
as greatly discomposed my nerves; and, to make
the matter worse, the mother made no difficulty at
times, when the squabbling grew to a height, of
taking a switch to one, and boxing the ears of
another, and scolding roundly at a third, to reduce
them to order; and all this in my presence, and
under the nose of my charmer.
I began to fancy the married life could not be
altogether so agreeable as I had pictured it to my
imagination; and in this belief I was confirmed
by a visit to my sister, who had three children of
her own, all of whom, as I now perceived (for I
inducement to make me observant), were given to
squabbling and bawling, just like other children,
while my sister did her share of boxing and scolding.
I thought to myself, “What should I do
with a dozen children squeaking all day and night
in my house, and a scolding wife dragooning them
into submission?”
The thought disconcerted me, and the fear of
such a consummation greatly chilled the ardour of
my affection; so that the young lady, observing
my backwardness, and taking offence at it, cast
her eyes upon another wooer who had made her
an offer, and, to my great satisfaction, married him
on the spot.
I was never more relieved in my life, and I resolved
to reflect longer upon the subject before
making advances of that nature a second time.
My overseer, who had from the first (for I made
him my confidant) been opposed to the match, on
the ground that I ought to enjoy my liberty, at
least until I was thirty, was greatly rejoiced at
the rupture, and swore that I had made a lucky
escape; for he had always thought, in his own
mind, that the lady was at bottom, though she
concealed it from me, a Tartar and fire-eater. In
this, however, he was mistaken; for, from all I
have heard of her since, she has proved a most
amiable and sweet-tempered woman, and her husband
is said to be very happy with her.
4. CHAPTER IV.
How to conduct a farm to the best advantage, and steer clear of
the lawyers.
It is not my intention to dwell longer upon the
history of this period of my life, nor to recount in
detail how my easy and indolent temper at last
proved the ruin of me. I gave myself up to
laziness, neglecting my affairs to such a degree
that they soon became seriously entangled; and,
to make a long story short, I found myself, before
I had completed my twenty-eighth year, reduced
from independence, and almost affluence, to a
condition bordering upon actual poverty. My
farm, under the management of Mr. Aikin Jones
(for that was my steward's name), went gradually
to ruin; my orchards rotted away, without being
replanted; my meadows were converted into
swamps; my corn-fields filled with gullies; my
improvements fell into decay; and my receipts
began to run short of my expenses. Then came
borrowing and mortgaging, and, by-and-by, the
sale of this piece of land to remove the encumbrance
upon that; until I suddenly found myself
in the condition of my father when he began the
world; that is to say, the master of a little farm
of forty acres,—the centre and nucleus of the
fifteen hundred which he had got possession of
slipped through my fingers. There was this difference,
however, between us; the land, when my
father obtained it, was in good condition; it was
now (so well had it prospered under Jones's hands)
entirely worn out and empoverished, and not worth
a fourth part of its original value.
To add to my chagrin, I discovered that Mr.
Aikin Jones, whom I had treated rather as a
friend than servant, had abused my confidence;
in other words, that he was a rogue and villain,
who had taken advantage of my disinclination to
business, and my ignorance, as I believe I must
call it, to swindle me out of my property, which
he had the best opportunities to do. Whether he
effected his purpose by employing my own funds
or not, I cannot say; but, it is very certain, all the
different mortgages in which I was entangled
came, some how or other, by hook and by crook,
into his hands, and he took care to make the best
use of them. In a word, Mr. Jones became a rich
man, and I a poor one; and I had the satisfaction,
every day when I took a walk over my forty-acre
farm, as the place was familiarly called, though the
true name was Watermelon Hill, to find myself
stopped, which way soever I directed my steps, by
the possessions of Mr. Aikin Jones, my old friend
and overseer, whom I often saw roll by in his carriage,
while I was trudging along through the mud.
At the same time that I met with this heavy
misfortune, I had to endure others that were vexatious
their suspicions of Mr. Jones, and often cautioned
me against him, though in vain,—not that I had
any very superstitious reliance on the gentleman's
integrity, but because I could not endure the trouble
of examining into his proceedings and accounts,
and chose therefore to believe him honest. This,
and my general indolence and indifference to my affairs,
incensed them both to that degree, that my sister
did not scruple to tell me to my face that I had
lost all the little sense I ever possessed; while my
brother-in-law took the freedom of saying of me in
public, “that I was wrong in the upper story,”—in
other words, that I was mad; and he had the insolence
to hint “that it ran in my blood,—that I had
inherited it from my mother,” she, as I mentioned
before, having lost her mind before her decease. I
was so much irritated by these insults on their part,
that I quarrelled with them both, though by no
means of a testy or choleric disposition; and it
was many years before we were reconciled. Having
therefore neither friends nor family, I was left
to bear my misfortunes alone; which was a great
aggravation of them all.
5. CHAPTER V.
The Author finds himself in trouble.—Some account of his Servant,
honest James Jumble.
I have always described myself as of an easy,
contented disposition; and such I was born. But
misfortune produces sad changes in our tempers,
as it was soon my lot to experience. Before, however,
I describe the change that took place in mine,
it is fit I should let the reader understand to what
condition I was reduced by the perfidy of Jones,
—or, as I should rather say, by my own culpable
neglect of my affairs.
My whole landed possessions consisted of a farm
of forty acres, which I had, after the fashion of
some of my richer neighbours in other states, suffered
to fall into the most wretched condition imaginable.
My meadow-lands, being broken in upon
by the river, and neglected, were converted into
quagmires, reed-brakes, and cat-tail patches, the
only use of which was to shelter wild-fowl and
mire cattle. However, my live-stock was scanty
enough, and the only sufferers were my neighbours,
whose cows easily made their way through
my fences, and stuck fast in the mud at their pleasure.
My fields were overgrown here with mullein
and St. John's-wort, and there with sand-burs and
miserable condition,—the trees being old, rotten,
or worm-eaten, half of them torn down by the
winds, and the remainder fit for nothing but fire-wood.
My barn was almost roofless; and as for
a stable, I had so little occasion for one, that my
old negro-man Jim, of whom I shall have more to
say hereafter, or his wife Dinah, or both together,
thinking they could do nothing better with it, helped
the winds to tear it to pieces, especially in the
winter, when it formed a very convenient wood-pile.
My dwelling-house was also suffering from
decay. It was originally a small frame building;
but my father had added to it one portion after
another, until it became spacious; and the large
porches in front and on the rear, gave it quite a
genteel, janty air. But this it could not long
keep; the sun and rain gradually drove the white
paint from the exterior, and the damps getting inside,
the fine paper-hangings, pied and spotted,
peeled from the walls. The window-frames rotted,
and the glasses left them one after another; and
one day in a storm one half the front porch tumbled
down, and the remainder, which I propped up
as well as I could, had a mighty mean and poverty-stricken
appearance. The same high wind carried
away one of my chimneys, which, falling on a corner
of the roof, crushed that into the garret, and
left one whole gable-end in ruins.
It must not be supposed that my property presented
altogether this wretched appearance at
the moment of my losses. It was ir truth bad
some few years after, when my miseries
were accumulated in the greatest number, and I
was just as poor as I could be.
In all this period of trouble and vexation I
had but one friend, if. I dare call him such;
though I should have been glad half the time
to be rid of him. This was my negro-man
Jim, or Jim Jumble, as he was called, of whom
I spoke before,—an old fellow that had been a
slave of my father, and was left to me in his
will. He was a crabbed, self-willed old fellow,
whom I could never manage, but who would
have all things his own way, in spite of me. As
I had some scruples of conscience about holding
a slave, and thought him of no value whatever,
but, on the contrary, a great trouble, I resolved to
set him free, and accordingly mentioned my design
to him; when, to my surprise, he burst into
a passion, swore he would not be free, and told me
flatly I was his master, and I should take care of
him: and the absurd old fool ended by declaring,
if I made him a free man he would have the law
of me, “he would, by ge-hosh!”
I never could well understand the cause of his
extreme aversion to being made free; but I suppose,
having got the upper hand of me, and being wise
enough to perceive the difference between living,
on the one hand, a lazy life, without any care
whatever, as my slave, and, on the other, labouring
hard to obtain a precarious subsistence as a free
man, he was determined to stick by me to the last,
me, as I had grown up from a boy, as it were, under
his own eye, was perhaps at the bottom of his
resolution; but if there were, it was of a strange
quality, as he did nothing but scold and grumble at
me all day long. I remember, in particular, that,
when the match I spoke of before was broken off,
and he had heard of it, he came to me in a great
passion, and insolently asked “what I meant by
courting a wife, who would be a good mistress to
him, and not marrying her?” and, on my condescending
to explain the reasons of my change of
mind, he told me plumply, “I had no more sense
than a nigger; for women was women, and children
children; and he was tired living so long in a
house with none but me and Massa Jones for company.”
I suppose it was old Jim's despair of my ever
marrying, that put him upon taking a wife himself;
for one day, not long after I was reduced to
the forty-acre farm, he brought home a great ugly
free negro-woman, named Dinah, whom he installed
into the kitchen without the least ceremony,
and without so much as even informing me of his
intention. Having observed her two or three times,
and seeing her at last come bouncing into the dinner-room
to wait on me, I asked her who she was,
and what she wanted; to which she answered,
“she was Jim's wife, and Jim had sent her in to
take care of me.”
It was in this way the old rascal used me. It
was in vain to complain; he gave me to understand
what, and there was no possuming an old nigger
like him; and if I had made him overseer, instead
of Massa Jones, it would have been all the better
for me.”
And, in truth, I believe it would; for Jim would
never have cheated me, except on a small scale;
and if he had done no work himself, it is very
certain he would have made everybody else work;
for he was a hard master when he had anybody
under him.
I may here observe, and I will do the old fellow
the justice to confess, that I found him exceedingly
useful during all my difficulties. What labour
was bestowed upon the farm, was bestowed
almost altogether by him and his wife Dinah. It
is true he did just what he liked, and without consulting
me,—planting and harvesting, and even
selling what he raised, as if he were the master
and owner of all things, and laying out what money
he obtained by the sales, just as his own wisdom
prompted; and finding I could do nothing
better, I even let him have his own way; and it
was perhaps to my advantage that I did.
But I grew poorer and poorer, notwithstanding:
and at that period, which I shall ever be inclined to
consider as the true beginning of my eventful life,
I was reduced almost to the point of despair; for
my necessities had compelled me to mortgage the
few miserable acres I had left, and I saw nothing
but utter ruin staring me in the face.
6. CHAPTER VI.
Sheppard Lee experiences his share of the respect that is accorded
to “honest poverty.”—His ingenious and highly original devices
to amend his fortune.
It may be asked, why I made no efforts to retrieve
my fortunes? I answer to that, that I made
many, but was so infatuated that I never once
thought of resorting to the most obvious, rational,
and only means; that is to say, of cultivating with
industry my forty acres, as my father had done before
me. This idea, so sluggish was my mind, or so
confused by its distresses, never once occurred to
me; or if it did, it presented so many dreary images,
and so long a prospect of dull and disagreeable labour,
that I had not the spirit to pursue it. The
little toil I was forced to endure—for my necessities
now compelled me at times to work with my own
hands—appeared to me intolerably irksome; and
I was glad to attempt any thing else that seemed
to promise me good luck, and did not require positive
labour.
The first plan of bettering my fortune that I conceived,
was to buy some chances in a lottery,
which I thought an easy way of making money;
as indeed it is, when a man can make any. I had
my trouble for my pains, with just as many blanks
as I had bought tickets; upon which I began to
short of gambling, as it really is; and so I quitted
it.
I then resolved to imitate the example of a
neighbour, who had made a great sum of money
by buying and selling to advantage stock in a southern
gold-mining company; and being very sanguine
of success, I devoted all the money I could scrape
together to the purpose, and that so wisely, that a
second instalment being suddenly demanded, I had
nothing left to discharge it with, and no means of
raising any; the consequence of which was, that I
was forced to sell at the worst time in the world,
and retired from the concern with just one fifth the
sum I had invested in it. I saw then that I had
no talent for speculating, and I began to have my
doubts whether stock-jobbing was not just as clear
gambling as horse-racing and lottery speculation.
I tried some ten or a dozen other projects with
a view to better my condition; but, as I came off
with the same luck from all, I do not think it necessary
to mention them. I will, however, state,
as a proof how much my difficulties had changed
my mind on that subject, that one of them was of
a matrimonial character. My horror of squabbling
children and scolding wives melted away before
the prospect of sheriffs and executions; and there
being a rich widow in the neighbourhood, I bought
me a new coat, and made her a declaration. But it
was too late in the day for me, as I soon discovered;
for besides giving me a flat refusal, she made a
who did nothing but hold me up to ridicule.
I found that my affairs were falling into a desperate
condition; and not knowing what else to do,
I resolved to turn politician, with the hope of getting
some office or other that might afford me a
comfortable subsistence.
This was the maddest project that ever possessed
my brain; but it was some time before I came
to that conclusion. But, in truth, from having
been the easiest and calmest tempered man in the
world, I was now become the most restless and
discontented, and incapable of judging what was
wise and what foolish. I reflected one day, that
of my old school and college mates who were still
alive, there was not one who had not made some
advance in the world, while I had done nothing but
slip backwards. It was the same thing with dozens
of people whom I remembered as poor farmers'
boys, with none of the advantages I had possessed,
but who had outstripped me in the road to fortune,
some being now rich cultivators, some wealthy
manufacturers and merchants, while two or three
had got into the legislature, and were made much
of in the newspapers. One of my old companions
had emigrated to the Mississippi, where he was
now a cotton-planter, with a yearly revenue of
twenty or thirty thousand dollars; another had become
a great lawyer in an adjacent state; and a
third, whom I always thought a very shallow, ignorant
fellow, and who was as poor as a rat to boot,
besides getting a great practice, had married the
richest and finest girl in all the county. There
was no end to the number of my old acquaintances
who had grown wealthy and distinguished;
and the more I thought of them, the more discontented
I became.
My dissatisfaction was increased by discovering
with what little respect I was held among these
happy people. The doctor used to treat me with
a jocular sort of familiarity, which I felt to be insulting;
the lawyer, who had eaten many a dinner
at my table, when I was able to invite him, began
to make me low bows, instead of shaking hands
with me; and the cotton-planter, who had been my
intimate friend at college, coming to the village on
a visit to his relations, stared me fiercely in the
face when I approached him, and with a lordly
“hum—ha!” asked me “Who the devil I might
be?” As for the others, they treated me with as
little consideration; and I began to perceive very
plainly that I had got into the criminal stage of
poverty, for all men were resolved to punish me.
It is no wonder that poverty is the father of crime,
since the poor man sees himself treated on all hands
as a culprit.
I had never before envied a man for enjoying
more consideration in the world than myself: but
the discovery that I was looked upon with contempt
filled me with a new subject for discontent. I envied
my richer neighbours not only for being rich,
superiors in standing. I may truly say, I scarce
ever saw, in those days, a man with a good coat on
his back, without having a great desire to beat him.
But as I was a peaceable man, my anger never
betrayed me into violence.
7. CHAPTER VII.
The Author becomes a Politician, and seeks for an office.—The result
of that project.
My essay in politics was soon made. I spent a
whole week in finding out who were the principal
office-holders, candidates, and busybodies, both in
the state and the general governments; and which
were the principal parties; there being so many,
that an honest man might easily make a mistake
among them. Being satisfied on these points, I
chose the strongest party, on the principle that
the majority must always be right, and attended
the first public meeting that was held, where I
clapped my hands and applauded the speeches
with so much spirit, that I was taken notice of
and highly commended by several of the principal
leaders. In truth, I pleased them so well, that
they visited me at my house, and encouraged me
to take a more prominent part in the business of
politics; and this I did, for at the next meeting, I
I know no more than the man in the moon, otherwise
I would inform the reader. My only recollection
of it is, that there was great slashing at
the banks and aristocrats that ground the faces of
the poor; for I was on what our opponents called
the hurrah side, and these were the things we
talked about. I received uncommon applause;
and, in fact, there was such a shouting and clapping
of hands, that I was obliged to put an end to
my discourse sooner than I intended.
But I found myself in great favour with the
party, and being advised by the leaders, who considered
I had a talent that way, to set about converting
all I knew in the county who were not of
our party, and they hinting that I should certainly,
in case the county was gained (for our county
happened to be a little doubtful at that time), be
appointed to the postoffice in the village, I mounted
my old horse Julius Cesar, and set out with
greater zeal than I had ever shown in my life before.
I visited everybody that I knew, and a great
many that I did not know; and, wherever I went,
I held arguments, and made speeches, with a
degree of industry that surprised myself, for certainly
I was never industrious before. It is certain,
also, that there was never a labourer in the
field of politics that better deserved his reward,—
never a soldier of the party ranks that had won a
better right to a share in the spoils of victory. I
do not pretend to say, indeed, that I converted anybody
up their minds beforehand; and I never yet knew
or heard of a man that could be argued out of his
politics, who had once made up his mind on the
subject. I laboured, however, and that with astonishing
zeal; and as I paid my own expenses,
and treated all thirsty souls that seemed approachable
in that way to good liquor, I paid a good
round sum, that I could ill spare, for the privilege
of electioneering; and was therefore satisfied that
my claim to office would hold good.
And so it did, as was universally allowed by all
the party; but the conviction of its justice was all
I ever gained in reward of my exertions. The
battle was fought and won, the party was triumphant,
and I was just rejoioing in the successful
termination of my hopes, when they were blasted
by the sudden appointment of another to the
very office which I considered my own. That
other was one of the aforesaid leaders, who had
been foremost in commending my zeal and talents,
and in assuring me that the office should be mine.
I was confounded, petrified, enraged; the duplicity
and perfidy of my new friends filled me
with indignation. It was evident they must all
have joined in recommending my rival to the office;
for he was a man of bad character, who must,
without such recommendations, have missed his
aim. All therefore had recommended him, and all
had promised their suffrages to me! “The scoundrels!”
said I to myself. I perceived that I had
could be in the right, which was led by such unprincipled
men; there was corruption at the heart
of the whole body; the party consisted of rogues
who were gaping after the loaves and fishes; their
honesty was a song—their patriotism a farce. In a
word, I found I had joined the wrong party, and I
resolved to go over to the other, sincerely repenting
the delusion that had made me so long the advocate
of wrong and deception.
But fortune willed otherwise. I had arrived at
the crisis of my fate; and before I could put my
purpose into execution, I was suddenly involved in
that tissue of adventure, which, I have no doubt,
will be considered the most remarkable that ever
befell a human being.
8. CHAPTER VIII.
A description of the Owl-roost, with Mr. Jumble's ideas in relation
to Captain Kid's money.
For five mortal days I remained at home, chewing
the bone of reflection; and a hard bone it
was. On the sixth there came a villanous constable
with a—the reader may suppose what. I struck a
bargain with him, and he took his leave, and Julius
Cesar also, saddle, bridle, and all; whereby I
escaped an introduction to the nearest justice of the
would be from the sheriff; for, having
failed to pay up the interest on the mortgage, the
mortgagee had discoursed, and that in no very mysterious
strain, on the virtues of a writ of Venditioni
Exponas, or some other absurd and scoundrelly
invention of the lawyers. I was at my wits' end,
and I wished that I was a dog; in which case I
should have gone mad, and bitten the new post-master
and all his friends.
“Very well,” said I to myself; “the forty-acre
is no longer mine.” I clapped on my hat, and
walked into the open air, resolved to take a look at
it before the sheriff came to convince me it belonged
to some other person. As I passed from
the door, I looked up to the broken porch: “May
it fall on the head of my successor,” I said.
It was a summer eve,—a day in July; but a
raw wind blew from the northeast, and the air was
as chill as in November. I buttoned my coat, and
as I did so, took a peep at my elbows: I required
no second look to convince me that I was a poor
man.
The ruined meadows of which I have spoken,
lie on a little creek that makes in from the Delaware.
Their shape is the worst in the world, being
that of a triangle, the longest leg of which lies
on the water. Hence the expense of embanking
them is formidable,—a circumstance for which the
muskrats have no consideration. The apex of the
angle is a bog, lying betwixt two low hillocks, or
scarce deep enough to swim a tadpole, though an
ox may hide in the mud at the bottom. It oozes
from a turfy ledge or bar, a few feet higher than
the general level of the hollow, which terminates
above it in a circular basin of two acres in area.
This circular basin is verdant enough to the eye,
the whole surface being covered by a thick growth
of alders, arrow-wood, water-laurels, and other
shrubs that flourish in a swamp, as well as a bountiful
sprinkling of cat-tails on the edges. The soil
is a vegetable jelly; and how any plant of a pound
in weight could ever sustain itself on it, I never
was able to comprehend. It is thought to be the
nearest road to the heart of the Chinese empire;
to find which, all that is necessary to do is, to take
a plunge into it head foremost, and keep on until
you arrive at daylight among the antipodes.
The whole place has a solitary and mournful appearance,
which is to many made still more dreary
and even sepulchral by the appearance of a little
old church, built by the Swedes many a year ago,
but now in ruins, and the graveyard around it,
these being but a short distance off, and on the east
side of the hollow. The spot is remote from my
dwelling, and apparently from all others; nevertheless
there is a small farmhouse—it was once
mine—on a by-road, not many rods from the old
church. A path, not often trodden, leads from my
house to the by-road, and crosses the hollow by the
grassy ledge spoken of before. It is the shortest
when walking thither.
This lonesome spot had a very bad name in
our neighbourhood, and was considered to be
haunted. Its common name was the Owl-roost,
given it in consequence of the vast numbers of
these birds that perched, and I believe nested in
the centre of the swamp, where was a place
comparatively dry, or supposed to be so, for I believe
no one ever visited it, and a clump of trees
larger than those in other places. Some called the
place Captain Kid's Hole, after that famous pirate
who was supposed to have buried his money there,
as he is supposed to have buried it in a hundred
thousand other dismal spots along the different
rivers of America. Old Jim Jumble was a devout
believer in the story, and often tried his luck in digging
for the money, but without success; which
he attributed to the circumstance of his digging in
the daytime, whereas midnight was, in his opinion,
the only true time to delve for charmed treasure.
But midnight was the period when the ghosts came
down from the old graveyard to squeak about the
swamp; and I never heard of Jim being found in
that neighbourhood after nightfall. The truth is,
the owls never hear any one go by after dark without
saluting him with a horrible chorus of hooting
and screeching, that will make a man's hair rise on
his head; and I have been sometimes daunted by
them myself.
To this place I directed my steps; and being
that grew near the path. I thought of the
owls, and the ghosts, and of Captain Kid into the
bargain, and I marvelled to myself whether there
could be any foundation for the belief that converted
such nooks into hiding-places for his ill-gotten gold.
While I thought over the matter, I began to wish
the thing could be true, and that some good spirit
might direct me to the spot where the money lay
hid; for, sure enough, no one in the world had
greater necessity for it than I. I conned over the
many stories that old Jim had told me about the
matter, as well as all the nonsensical ceremonies
that were to be performed, and the divers ridiculous
dangers to be encountered by those who sought
the treasure; all which were mere notions that had
entered his absurd head, but which he had pondered
over so often and long, that he believed they had
been told him by others.
The great difficulty, according to his belief, and
a necessary preliminary to all successful operations,
was first to discover exactly the spot where
the treasure lay buried; and, indeed, this seemed to
be a very needful preliminary. The discovery was
to be made only by dreaming of the spot three
nights in succession. As to dreaming twice, that
was nothing: Jim had twenty times dreamed two
nights together that he had fallen upon the spot;
but upon digging it discovered nothing. Having
been so lucky as to dream of a place three successive
nights, then the proper way to secure the
when the moon was at the full, and begin digging
precisely at twelve o'clock, saying the Lord's
prayer backwards all the time, till the money was
found. And here lay the danger; a single blunder
in the prayer, and wo betide the devotee! for the
devil, who would be standing by all the time, would
that moment pounce upon his soul, and carry it
away in a flame of brimstone.
9. CHAPTER IX.
Sheppard Lee stumbles upon a happy man, and quarrels with him.
While I sat pondering over these matters, and
wondering whether I could say the prayer backwards,
and doubting (for, to my shame be it spoken,
I had not often, of late years, said it forward),
I heard a gun go off in the meadow; and rising,
and walking that way, I discovered a sportsman
who had just shot a woodcock, which his dog carried
to him in his mouth. I knew the gunner at
first sight to be a gentleman of Philadelphia, by
the name of Higginson, a brewer, who was reputed
to be very wealthy, and who had several times
before visited our neighbourhood, for the purpose
of shooting. I knew little of him except his
name, having never spoken to him. The neighbours
usually addressed him as squire, though I
knew not for what reason. He was a man of forty
but with a rosy, hearty complexion, looking the
very personification of health and content; and,
indeed, as I gazed at him, strolling up and down
with his dog and gun, I thought I had never before
seen such a picture of happiness.
But the sight only filled me with gloom and
anger. “Here,” said I to myself, “is a man rich
and prosperous, who passes his whole life in an
amusement that delights him, goes whither he
likes, does what he will, eats, drinks, and is merry,
and the people call him squire wherever he goes.
I wish I were he; for, surely, he is the happiest
man in the world!”
While I pondered thus, regarding him with admiration
and hatred together, a bird rose at his feet,
and he shot it; and the next moment another,
which he served in the same way.
I noted the exultation expressed in his countenance,
and I was filled with a sudden fury. I
strode up to him while he was recharging his
piece, and as I approached him, he looked up and
gave me a nod of so much complacency and condescension
together, that it rendered me ten times
madder than ever.
“Sir,” said I, looking him full in the face, “before
you shoot any more birds here, answer me a
question. Who do you go for—the Administration,
or the Opposition?”
This was a very absurd way of beginning a conversation
with a stranger; but I was in such a fury
and then a smile, and nodding his head good-humouredly,
replied,
“Oh! for the Administration, to be sure!”
“You do, sir!” I rejoined, shaking my fist at him.
“Then, sir, let me tell you, sir, you belong to a
scoundrelly party, and are a scoundrel yourself,
sir: and so, sir, walk off my place, or I'll prosecute
you for a trespass.”
“You insolent ragamuffin!” said he.
Ragamuffin! Was I sunk so low that a man
trespassing on my own property could call me
ragamuffin?
“You poor, miserable shote!”—
So degraded that I could be called a pig?
“You half-starved old sand-field Jersey kill-deer!”—
A Jersey kill-deer!
“You vagabond! You beggar! You Dicky
Dout!”—
I was struck dumb by the multitude and intensity
of his epithets; and before I could recover
speech, he shouldered his gun, snapped his fingers
in my face, and whistling to his dog, walked off
the ground. Before he had gone six steps, however,
he turned round, gave me a hard look, and bursting
into a laugh, exclaimed, tapping his forehead as he
spoke,—
“Poor fellow! you're wrong in your upper
story!”
With that he resumed the path, and crossed
over to the old church, where I lost sight of him.
“Wrong in my upper story!” It was the very
phrase which Tom Alderwood, my brother-in-law,
had applied to me, and which had given me such
mortal offence that I had never forgiven him, and
had refused to be reconciled, even when, as my
difficulties began to thicken about me, he came to
offer me his assistance. “Wrong in my upper
story!” I was so much confounded by the man's
insolence, that I remained rooted to the spot until
he had got out of sight; and then, not knowing
what else to do, I returned home; when I had a
visit from old Jim, who entered the apartment, and
not knowing I had sold my horse, cried out, “Massa
Sheppard, want money to shoe Julius Cesar 'morrow
morning. Blacksmith swear no trust no
more.”
“Go to the devil, you old rascal!” said I, in a
rage.
“Guess I will,” said Jim, shaking his head:
“follow hard after massa.”
That insinuation, which struck me as being
highly appropriate, was all I got for supper; for it
was Jim's way, when I offended him of an afternoon,
to sneak off, taking Dinah with him, and thus
leave me to shift for myself during the whole night
as I could. There was never a more tyrannical
old rascal than Jim Jumble.
10. CHAPTER X.
Sheppard Lee has an extraordinary dream, which promises to be
more advantageous than any of his previous ones.
I went therefore supperless to bed; but I
dreamed of Captain Kid's money, and the character
of my dream was quite surprising. I thought
that my house had fallen down in a high wind, as,
indeed, it was like enough to do, and that I was
sitting on a broken chair before the ruins, when
Squire Higginson made his appearance, looking,
however, like a dead man; for his face was pale,
and he was swathed about with a winding-sheet.
Instead of a gun he carried a spade in his hand;
and a great black pig followed at his heels in place
of his dog. He came directly towards me, and
looking me full in the face, said, “Sheppard Lee,
what are you doing here?” but I was struck with
fear, and could make no reply. With that, he
spoke again, saying, “The sheriff is coming to levy
on your property; get up, therefore, and follow
me.” So saying, he began to walk away, whistling
to the pig, which ran at his heels like a dog; and
I found myself impelled to follow him. He took
the path to the Owl-roost, and, arriving there, came
to a pause, saying, “Sheppard Lee, you are a poor
man, and eaten up with discontent; but I am your
friend, and you shall have all your wishes.” He
gum-tree, and blowing his whistle, said, “Black
Pig, show me some game, or I'll trounce you;”
and immediately the pig began to run about snuffing,
and snorting, and coursing like a dog, so that
it was wonderful to behold him. At last the squire,
growing impatient, and finding fault with the animal's
ill success, for he discovered nothing, took a
whip from under his shroud, and fell to beating
him; after which the pig hunted more to his liking;
and, having coursed about us for a while, ran up to
the beech-tree, under which I had sat the day before,
and began with snout and hoof to tear up the
earth at its roots. “Oho!” said Squire Higginson,
“I never knew Black Pig to deceive me. We shall
have fine sport now.” Then, putting the spade
into my hands, he bade me dig, exhorting me to
be of good heart, for I was now to live a new life
altogether. But before I struck the spade into the
earth he drew a mark on the ground, to guide me,
and the figure was precisely that of a human grave.
Not daunted by this circumstance, for in my dream
it appeared natural enough, I began to dig; and
after throwing out the earth to a depth just equal
to the length of the spade, I discovered an iron
coffin, the lid of which was in three pieces, and,
not being fastened in any way, was therefore easily
removed. Judge of my transports when, having
lifted up the piece in the middle, I found the whole
coffin full of gold and silver, some in the form of
ancient coins, but the most of it in bars and ingots.
it away at once, but that was impossible; I therefore
began to fill my pockets, my hat, my handkerchief,
and even my bosom; until the squire
bade me cease, telling me I should visit the treasure
at the same hour on the following night. I
then replaced the iron cover, and threw the earth
again into the grave, as the squire commanded;
and then leaving him, and running home as hard
as I could, in fear lest some one should see me, I
fell into a miry place, where I was weighed down
by the mass of gold I had about me, and smothered.
In the midst of my dying agonies I awoke, and
found that all was a dream.
Ah! how much torment a poor man has dreaming
of riches! The dream made me very melancholy;
and I went moping about all that day, wishing
myself anybody or any thing but that I was,
and hiding in the woods at the sight of any one
who chanced to pass by, for I thought everybody
was the sheriff. I went to bed the following night
in great disorder of spirit, and had no sooner closed
my eyes than I dreamed the same dream over
again. The squire made his appearance as before,
led me to the Owl-roost, and set the black pig
hunting until the grave was found. In a word, the
dream did not vary in a single particular from that I
had had the night before; and when I woke up the
next day, the surprise of such an occurrence filled
me with new and superstitious ideas, and I awaited
the next night with anxious expectations, resolved,
the place, and see what should come of it.
Remembering what old Jim had said in regard
to the full of the moon, I went to a neighbour's to
look at his almanack (for I had none of my own),
and discovered, to my unspeakable surprise and
agitation, though I had half known it before, that
the moon we then had would be at her full between
ten and eleven o'clock on the following
morning.
Such a coincidence betwixt the time of my
dreams and the proper period for hunting the treasure
(since at the full moon was the proper time),
was enough of itself to excite my expectations;
and the identity between the two visions was so
extraordinary, that I began to believe that the
treasure did really exist in the Owl-roost, which,
being very solitary, and yet conveniently accessible
from the river through the medium of the creek,
was one of the best hiding-places in the world, and
that I was the happy man destined to obtain it.
I went to bed accordingly the third night with
a strong persuasion that the vision would be repeated:
I was not disappointed. I found myself
again digging at the beech-roots, and scraping up
great wedges of gold and silver from the iron coffin.
What was remarkable in this dream, however,
was, that when I had picked up as much as I could
carry, the squire nodded to me, and said, “Now,
Sheppard Lee, you know the way to Captain Kid's
treasure, and you can come to-morrow night by
did not dream of falling into a miry place on this
occasion, but arrived safely home, and beheld with
surprise and delight that my house, which I had
left in ruins, was standing up more beautiful than
ever it had been, newly painted from top to bottom,
and the pillars of the porch were gilded over, and
shining like gold.
While enjoying this agreeable prospect I awoke,
and such was the influence of the vision on my
mind, and the certain belief I now cherished that
the vast treasure was mine,—a whole coffinful of
gold and silver,—that I fell to shouting and dancing;
so that old Jim Jumble, who ran up into my chamber
to see what was the matter, was persuaded I
had gone mad, and began to blubber and scold, and
take on in the most diverting way in the world.
I pacified him as well as I could, but resolved
to keep my secret until I could surprise him with
the sight of my treasure, all collected together in
the house; and I proceeded without delay to make
such preparations as were proper for the coming
occasion. I took a spade and mattock, and carried
them to the hollow, where I hid them among the
bushes. But this I found difficult to do as secretly
as I wished; for old Jim, either from suspecting
what I was after, or believing I had lost my mind,
kept dogging me about; so that it was near midday
before I succeeded in giving him the slip, and
carrying my tools to the hollow.
11. CHAPTER XI.
In which the reader is introduced to a personage who may claim
his acquaintance hereafter.
In this place, to my dismay, I stumbled upon a
man, who, from the character he had in the neighbourhood,
I was afraid was hunting the treasure,
as well as myself. He was an old German doctor,
called Feuerteufel, which extraordinary name, as I
had been told, signified, in German, Fire-devil.
He had come to our village about two weeks before,
and nobody knew for what reason. All day long
he wandered about among the woods, swamps, and
marshes, collecting plants and weeds, stones, animals,
and snakes, which he seemed to value very
highly. Some thought he was a counterfeiter in
disguise, and others called him a conjurer. Many
were of opinion he was hunting for gold-mines, or
precious stones; while others had their thoughts,
and said he was the devil, his appearance being
somewhat grim and forbidding. As for myself,
having lighted upon him once or twice in the woods,
I did not know what to think of him; but I did
not like his looks. He was very tall and rawboned,
with long arms, and immense big hands; his skin
was extremely dark and pock-marked, and he had
a mouth that ran from ear to ear, and long, bushy,
black hair. His eyes were like saucers, and deep
eyebrows ever frowning above them; and what
made him look remarkable was, that although he
was ever frowning with his eyes, his mouth was
as continually grinning in a sort of laugh, such as
you see in a man struck with a palsy in the head.
He was the terror of all the children, and it was
said the dogs never barked at him.
I found him in the hollow, hard by the beech-tree,
and had scarce time to fling my implements
among the bushes before he saw me. He was
standing looking over towards the old church, where
there was a funeral procession; for that morning
the neighbours were burying a young man that
had taken laudanum for love two days before, but
had only expired the previous evening.
As soon as the German beheld me, he started
like a guilty man, and made as if he would have
run away; but suddenly changing his mind, he
stepped towards me, and just as we met he stooped
down and pulled a flower that struck his eye. Then
rising up, he grinned at me, and nodding, said,
“Gooten morrow, mine prudder; it ish gooten
dag!”—though what he meant by “gooten dag”
I know no more than the man in the moon, having
never studied German. I did not at all like his appearance
in this spot at such a time; but I reflected
at last that he was only culling simples, and had
paused near the beech-tree to look at the funeral, as
would have been extremely natural in any man.
But I liked the appearance of the funeral still less at
something ominous in it.
But my mind was fixed upon the treasure I was
soon to enjoy too firmly to be long drawn off by
any such doleful spectacle; and accordingly, having
waited impatiently until the attendants on the
funeral had all stalked away, as well as the German
doctor, I stole towards the beech-tree, and surveyed
the ground at its roots. There were some stones
lying among them, which I removed, as well as the
long grass that waved over their tops; and looking
closely, I thought I could see among some of the
smaller roots of the tree, that were pleached together
on the surface of the earth, a sort of arrangement
very much in shape of a grave. This was a new
proof to me that the treasure lay below, and I considered
that my good angel had platted these roots
together, in order to direct me in what spot to dig.
I could scarce avoid beginning on the instant;
but, I remembered, that was not the hour. I therefore
concealed my spade and mattock, and went
home; when the first thing I did was to hunt me
up a book that had the Lord's prayer in it (for I
feared to trust to my memory alone), and write this
out backwards with the greatest care; and I then
spent the remainder of the day in committing the
words to memory in that order; but I found it a
difficult task.
As the evening drew nigh, I found myself growing
into such a pitch of excitement, that, fearing I
should betray the secret to Jim Jumble, who was
to the village, and there remain until the hour for
seeking the treasure should draw nigh. I had another
reason for this step; for my watch having
gone, some month or two before Julius Cesar, to
satisfy a hungry fellow to whom I owed money, I
knew not how to be certain of the hour, unless by
learning it of some one in the village; and to the
village I accordingly went soon after sunset.
12. CHAPTER XII.
Sheppard Lee visits the village, makes a patriotic speech, and
leaves the fence.
Having arrived at the village, I proceeded to a
tavern, which was the chief place of resort, especially
after nightfall, for all the idlers and topers of
the town, of whom there were great numbers, the village
at that time being a place of but little business.
I found some ten or a dozen already assembled
in the bar-room, drinking brandy, smoking, chewing,
talking politics, and swearing. I had no sooner
entered than some of them, who were discoursing
loudly concerning the purity and economy of
the government, and the honesty of those who supported
it, appealed to me (my electioneering pilgrimage
through the country having caused me to
be looked upon as quite a knowing politician) to
assist them in the argument they were holding.
Remembering the scurvy way in which I had
been treated by the party, I felt strongly tempted
to give them a piece of my mind on the other side
of the question; but I thought of my buried treasure,
and conceiving it unwise to begin the quarrel
at that time, I made them no answer, but sat down
in a corner, where I hoped to escape observation.
Here I employed myself conning over the prayer
backwards, until I was assured I was perfect in
the exercise.
I then—still keeping aloof from the company—
gave my mind up to a consideration of what I
should do when I had transferred Captain Kid's
hoards of gold from the coffin to my house.
The first thing I resolved to do was to pay my
debts, which, how greatly soever they oppressed
me, were not actually very fearful in amount; after
which I was determined to rebuild my house, restore
my fields to their original condition, and go
to law with Mr. Aikin Jones, who I had no doubt
had cheated me out of my property. It did not
occur to me that, by such a step, I should get rid
of my second fortune as expeditiously as I had the
first; all that I thought on was the satisfaction of
having my revenge on the villain, whom I should
have punished in perhaps a more summary way,
had it not been for my respect for the laws, and
my being naturally a peaceable man. But I did
not think long of Mr. Jones; the idea of the great
wealth I was soon to possess filled my mind,
reveries.
From these I was roused by hearing some one
near me pronounce the words “Captain Kid's
money”—the idea that was uppermost in my own
mind; and looking round in a kind of perturbation,
I saw a knot of people surrounding Feuerteufel, the
German doctor, one of whom was discoursing on the
subject of the treasure in the Owl-roost, and avowing
his belief that he—that is, the German doctor—
was conjuring after it; an imputation that gained
great credit with the company, there being no other
way to account for his visit to our village, and his
constant perambulations through the woods and
marshes in the neighbourhood of the Owl-roost.
The German doctor, to my great relief, replied
to this charge by expanding his jaws as if he would
have swallowed the speaker, though he was guilty
of nothing beyond a laugh, which was in depth and
quality of tone as if an empty hogshead had indulged
in the same diversion. His voice was indeed
prodigiously deep and hollow, and even his
laugh had something in it solemn and lugubrious.
“Mine friends,” said he, in very bad English, “I
fos can do men' creat t'ings; put I can no find no
Captain Kitt's money not at all. I toes neffer looks
for coldt, except in places fare Gott puts it; t'at
iss, in t'a coldt-mines!” With that, he laughed
again, and looking upon the people about him with
great contempt, he walked up stairs to his chamber
—for he lodged in the inn.
Soon after this occurrence, and just when I had
sunk again into a revery, a man stepped up to me,
and saluted me in a way well suited to startle me.
“Sir,” said he, “friend Kill-deer, before you
scratch your head any more on this bench, answer
me a question. What do you go for,—brandy-toddy
or gin-sling?”
It was Squire Higginson, and he looked very
good-humoured and waggish; but as I had dreamed
of him so often, and always as being in his grave-clothes,
I was rather petrified at his appearance, as
if it were that of a spectre, rather than a mortal
man. As for our quarrel in the meadow, it had
slipped my mind altogether, until, having recovered
my composure a little, it was recalled to my recollection
by the associations arising out of his words.
But I remembered the circumstance at last, and
being moreover offended by his present freedom,
which was nothing less than sheer impertinence, I
told him I desired to have nothing to say to him; on
which he fell into a passion, and told me “I might
go to the devil for a ragamuffin and a turncoat
politician.” But, mad as he was, he ended his
speech by bursting into a laugh, and then, tapping
his forehead as before, and nodding his head and
winking, he left the bar-room to seek his chamber
—for he put up at the tavern, as well as the German
doctor.
These insults threw me into some ferment, and
being irritated still farther by the remarks of the
company, especially when some one asked what
I allowed myself to be thrown into a passion;
in the course of which I gave such of my old
friends as were present to know that I had forsworn
their party, and considered it to be composed of a
pack of the corruptest scoundrels in the country.
This unexpected denunciation produced a great
explosion; my old friends fell upon me tooth and
nail, as the saying is, reviling me as a traitor and
apostate. But, on the other hand, those of the opposition
who happened to be present ranged themselves
on my side, applauding my honesty, judgment,
and spirit to such a degree, that I was more
than ever convinced I had been on the wrong side.
I met reproaches with contempt, and threats with
defiance; opposed words to words, and assertions
to assertions (for, in politics, we do not make use
of arguments); and finding myself triumphantly
victorious, I mounted into a chair, and made a
speech that was received by my new friends with
roars of applause. Intoxicated with these marks of
approbation, I launched at once into a sea of declamation,
in which I might have tossed about during
the whole night, had I not by chance, while balking
for a word, rolled my eyes upon the clock that
stood opposite to me in the bar, and perceived that
it wanted just a quarter of an hour to twelve
o'clock. In a moment I forgot every thing but the
treasure that awaited me in the Owl-roost; I stopped
short in the middle of a sentence, took one more look
at the clock, and then, leaping down from the chair,
to the amazement of friend and foe, ran at full speed
out of the village; and this gait I continued until I
had reached the old Swedes' Church; for I had
taken the footpath that led in that direction.
13. CHAPTER XIII.
What befell the author on his way to the Owl-roost.
As it was now the full of the moon, there was
of course light enough for my purpose; but the
sky was dappled with clouds very dense and heavy,
some of which crossing the moon every minute or
two, there was a constant alternation of light and
darkness, so that the trees and all other objects
were constantly changing their appearance, now
starting up in bold relief, white and silvery from
the darkness, and now vanishing again into gloom.
A cloud passed over the moon just as I reached
the old church; and the wall of the burial-ground
having fallen down at a certain place, where the
rubbish obstructed the path, it was my ill luck to
break my shin against a fragment; the pain of
which caused me to utter a loud groan. To my
amazement and horror, this interjection of suffering
was echoed from the grave-yard hard by, a voice
screaming out in awful tones, “O Lord! O Lord!”
and casting my eyes round, I beheld, as I thought,
than devils incarnate, dancing about among the
tomb-stones.
I was seized with such terror at this sight, that,
forgetting my hurt and the treasure together, I took
to my heels, and did not cease running until I had
left the church some quarter of a mile behind me;
and I am not certain I should have come to a halt
then, had it not been my fate to tumble over a cow
that lay ruminating on the path; whereby, besides
half breaking my neck, and cruelly scratching my
nose, I stunned myself to that degree, that it was
some two or three minutes before I was able to
rise.
I had thus time to recollect myself, and reflect
that I was running away from Captain Kid's money,
the idea of losing which was not to be tolerated a
moment.
But how to get to the Owl-roost without falling
into the hands of the devils or spectres at the old
church, was what gave me infinite concern. The
midnight hour—the only one for attempting the
treasure with success—was now close at hand; so
that there was no time left me to reach the place
by a roundabout course through the woods to the
right, or over the meadows to the left. I must
pass the old church, or I must perhaps give up the
treasure.
There was no time to deliberate; the figures I
had seen, and the cries I had heard, might have
been coinages of my own brain; nay, the latter
voice, distorted into something terrible by my fears.
I was not naturally superstitious, and had never before
believed in ghosts. But I cannot recollect
what precise arguments occurred to me at that moment,
to cause me to banish my fears. The hope
of making my fortune was doubtless the strongest
of all; and the moon suddenly shining out with the
effulgence almost of day, I became greatly imboldened,
and, in a word, set forward again, resolved,
if met by a second apparition, and driven to flight,
to fly, not backwards, but forwards,—that is, in the
direction of the Owl-roost.
On this occasion, it was my fortune to be saluted
by an owl that sat on the old wall among some
bushes, and hooted at me as I went by; and notwithstanding
that the sound was extremely familiar
to my ears, I was thrown into a panic, and took to
my heels as before; though, as I had resolved, I
ran onward, pursuing the path to the swamp. It is
quite possible there may have been a crew of imps
and disimbodied spirits jumping among the graves
as before; but, as I had the good fortune to be
frightened before I caught sight of them, I did not
stop to look for them; and, for the same reason, I
heard no more awful voices shrieking in my ears.
I reached the Owl-roost and the memorable beech-tree,
where the necessity of acting with all speed
helped me to get rid of my terror. I knew that I
had not a moment to spare, and running to the
bushes where I had hidden my mattock and spade, I
dig, not forgetting to pray backwards all the while,
as hard as I could.
14. CHAPTER XIV.
Sheppard Lee digs for the buried treasure, but makes a blow with
the mattock in the wrong place.
I was but an ill hand at labour, and of the use
of the spade and mattock I knew nothing. The
nature of the ground in which I was digging made
the task especially difficult and disagreeable.
There were many big stones scattered about in the
earth, which jarred my arms horribly whenever I
stuck them; so that (all my efforts to the contrary
notwithstanding) I was, every minute or two, interrupting
my prayer with expressions which were
neither wise nor religious, but highly expressive of
my torture of body and mind. And then I was
digging among the toughest and vilest roots in the
world, some of which I thought I should never get
through; for I had not remembered to provide myself
with an axe, and I was afraid to go home for
one, lest some evil accident or discovery might rob
me of the expected treasure.
Accordingly, I had to do with a tougher piece of
labour than I had ever undertaken before in my
whole life; and I reckon I worked a full hour and
as deep as I supposed would be necessary. I succeeded
at last, however, in throwing out so much
earth, that when I measured the depth of the pit
with my spade, I found the handle just on a level
with the surface of the ground.
But I was not so near the treasure as I supposed;
I struck my mattock into the clay, scarce doubting
that I should hear the ring of the iron coffin, Instead
of reaching that, however, I struck a great
stone, and with a force that made the mattock-helve
fly out of my hands to my chin, which it saluted
with a vigour that set all my teeth to rattling, knocking
me down into the bargain.
Having recovered from the effects of this blow,
I fell to work again, thumping and delving until I
had excavated to the depth of at least five feet.
My heart began to fail me, as well as my strength,
as I got so deep into the earth without finding the
gold; for I began to fear lest my dreams had, after
all, deceived me. In my agitation of mind, I handled
my tools so blindly, that I succeeded in lodging
my mattock, which was aimed furiously at a
root, among the toes of my right foot; and the pain
was so horribly acute, that I leaped howling out of
the pit, and sinking down upon the grass, fell
straightway into a trance.
15. CHAPTER XV.
In which Sheppard Lee finds himself in a quandary which the reader
will allow to be the most wonderful and lamentable ever known
to a human being.
When I awoke from this trance, it was almost
daybreak.
I recovered in some confusion of mind, and did
not for a moment notice that I was moving away
from the place of my disaster; but I perceived
there was something strange in my feelings and
sensations. I felt exceedingly light and buoyant,
as if a load had been taken, not merely from my
mind, but from my body; it seemed to me as if I
had the power of moving whither I would without
exertion, and I fancied that I swept along without
putting my feet to the ground. Nay, I had a notion
that I was passing among shrubs and bushes,
without experiencing from them any hinderance to
my progress whatever. I felt no pain in my foot,
which I had hit such a violent blow, and none in
my hands, that had been wofully blistered by my
work; nor had I the slightest feeling of weariness
or fatigue. On the whole, my sensations were
highly novel and agreeable; but before I had time
to analyze them, or to wonder at the change, I remembered
that I was wandering away from the
buried treasure.
I returned to the spot, but only to be riveted to
the earth in astonishment. I saw, stretched on the
grass, just on the verge of the pit, the dead body of
a man; but what was my horror, when, perusing
the ashy features in the light of the moon, I perceived
my own countenance! It was no illusion;
it was my face, my figure, and dressed in my
clothes; and the whole presented the appearance
of perfect death.
The sight was as bewildering as it was shocking;
and the whole state of things was not more
terrifying than inexplicable. There I lay on the
ground, stiff and lifeless; and here I stood on my
feet, alive, and surveying my own corpse, stretched
before me. But I forgot my extraordinary duality
in my concern for myself—that is to say, for that
part of me, that eidolon, or representative, or duplicate
of me, that was stretched on the grass, I
stooped down to raise the figure from the earth, in
an instinctive desire to give myself aid, but in vain;
I could not lift the body; it did not seem to me that
I could even touch it,—my fingers, strive as I
might, I could not bring into contact with it.
My condition, or conditions (for I was no longer
of the singular number) at this time, can be understood
only by comparing my confusion of senses
and sensations to that which occurs in a dream,
when one beholds himself dead, surveys his body,
and philosophizes or laments, and is, all the time,
to all intents and purposes, without being surprised
at it, two persons, one of which lives and observes,
or appeared to be, without bestowing any reflection
upon such an extraordinary circumstance, or being
even conscious of it, two persons; in one of which
I lived, but forgot my existence, while trembling at
the death that had overcome me in the other. My
true situation I did not yet comprehend, nor even
dream of; though it soon turned out to be natural
enough, and I understood it.
I was entirely overcome with horror at my unfortunate
condition; and seeing that I was myself
unable to render myself any assistance, I ran, upon
an impulse of instinct, to the nearest quarter where
it was to be obtained. This was at the cottage, or
little farmhouse, which I spoke of before as standing
on the by-road, a little beyond the old church.
It was occupied by a man named Turnbuckle, whom
I knew very well, and who was a very industrious,
honest man, although a tenant of Mr. Aikin Jones.
I arrived at his house in an amazingly short
space of time, rather flying, as it seemed to me,
through the air, than running over the marsh and
up the rugged hill. It was the gray of the morning,
when I reached his house, and the family was
just stirring within. As I ran towards the door, his
dogs, of which he had a goodly number, as is common
with poor men, set up a dismal howling, clapped
their tails between their legs, and sneaked off
among the bushes; a thing that surprised me much,
for they were usually very savage of temper. I
called to Turnbuckle by name, and that in a voice
son came tumbling out of the house in the greatest
haste and wonder. No sooner, however, had they
cast eyes on me, than they uttered fearful cries;
the old man fell flat on his face, as if in a fit, and
the son ran back into the house, as if frightened
out of his senses.
“Help me, Thomas Turnbuckle,” said I; “I
am lying dead under the beech-tree in the hollow:
come along and give me help.”
But the old man only answered by groaning and
crying; and at that moment the door opened, and
his eldest son appeared with a gun, which he fired
at me, to my inexpressible terror.
But if I was frightened at this, how much more
was I horrified when the old man, leaping up at
the discharge, roared out, “O Lord! a ghost! a
ghost!” and ran into the house.
I perceived it all in a moment: the howling of
the dogs, which they still kept up from among the
bushes,—the fear of Turnbuckle and his family, all
of whom, old and young, male and female, were
now squeaking in the house, as if Old Nick had
got among them,—my being in two places together,
and a thousand other circumstances that now occurred
to me, apprized me of the dreadful fact,
which I had not before suspected: I was a dead
man!—my body lay in the marsh under the beech-tree,
and it was my spirit that was wandering about
in search of assistance!
As this terrible idea flashed across my mind, and
as the Turnbuckles had been, and I took to my
heels to fly from myself, until I recollected myself
a little, and thought of the absurdity of such a proceeding.
But even this fatal conception did not remove
my anxiety in relation to my poor body,—or
myself, as I could not help regarding my body; and
I ran back to the beech-tree in a kind of distraction,
hoping I might have been revived and resuscitated
in my absence.
I reached the pit, and stared wildly about me—
my body was gone,—vanished! I looked into the
hole I had excavated; there was nothing in it but
the spade and mattock, and my hat, which had
fallen from my head when I leaped out of it, after
hurting my foot. I stared round me again; the
print of my body in the grass, where it had lain,
was quite perceptible (for it was now almost broad
day), but there was no body there, and no other
vestige excepting one of my shoes, which was torn
and bloody, being the identical one I had worn on
the foot hurt by the mattock.
16. CHAPTER XVI.
Sheppard Lee finds comfort when he least expects it. The extraordinary
close of the catastrophe.
What had become of me? that is, what had
become of my body? Its disappearance threw me
into a phrensy; and I was about to run home, and
summon old Jim Jumble to help me look for it,
when I heard a dog yelping and whining in a peculiarly
doleful manner, at some little distance down
in the meadow; and I instantly ran in that direction,
thinking that perhaps the bloodthirsty beast might
be at that very moment dragging it away to devour
it,—or hoping, at the least, to light upon some one
who could give me an account of it.
I ran to a place in the edge of the marsh where
were some willow-trees, and an old worm fence,
the latter overgrown with briers and elder-bushes;
and there, to my exceeding surprise, I discovered
the body of Squire Higginson (for he was stone
dead), lying against the fence, which was broken,
his head down, and his heels resting against the
rails, and looking as if, while climbing it, he had
fallen down and broken his neck. His gun was
lying at his side, undischarged, and his dog, whose
yelping had brought me to the spot, was standing
by; but I must add, that, as soon as I approached
him, the animal betrayed as much terror as Turnbuckle's
the same manner.
Greatly incensed as I had been with Squire Higginson,
I felt some concern to see him lying in this
lamentable condition, his face blackened with blood,
as if he had perished from suffocation; and stooping
down, I endeavoured to take off his neckcloth
and raise his head, in the hope that he might yet
recover. But I reckoned without my host,—I had
forgotten that I was a mere phantom or spirit, possessing
no muscular power whatever, because no
muscles; for, even in walking and running, as I
was now aware, I was impelled by some unknown
power within me, and not at all carried by my legs.
I could not bring my hand into contact either with
his cravat or head, and for a good reason, seeing
there was no substance in me whatever, but all
spirit.
I therefore ceased my endeavours, and began to
moralize, in a mournful mood, upon his condition
and mine. He was dead, and so was I; but there
seemed to be this difference between us, namely,
that I had lost my body, and he his soul,—for after
looking hard about me, I could see nothing of it.
His body, as it lay there in the bushes, was perfectly
useless to him, and to all the world beside;
and my spirit, as was clear enough, was in a similar
predicament. Why might I not, that is to say,
my spirit,—deprived by an unhappy accident of its
natural dwelling,—take possession of a tenement
which there remained no spirit to claim, and thus,
unite together in the political world, become a body
possessing life, strength, and usefulness?
As soon as this idea entered my mind (or me,
for I was all mind), I was seized with the envy
that possessed me when I first met the squire shooting
over my marshes. “How much better it would
be,” I thought, “to inhabit his body than my own!
In my own fleshly casing, I should revive only to
poverty and trouble;” (I had forgot all about Captain
Kid's money) “whereas, if once in the body
of Squire Higginson, I should step out into the
world to possess riches, respect, content, and all
that man covets. Oh that I might be Squire Higginson!”
I cried.
The words were scarce out of my mouth, before
I felt myself vanishing, as it were, into the dead
man's nostrils, into which I—that is to say, my
spirit—rushed like a breeze of air; and the very
next moment I found myself kicking the fence to
pieces in a lusty effort to rise to my feet, and feeling
as if I had just tumbled over it.
“The devil take the fence, and that Jersey kill-deer
that keeps it in such bad order!” I cried, as I
rose up, snatching at my gun, and whistling for my
dog Ponto. My dog Ponto! It was even the
truth; I was no more Sheppard Lee, the poor and
discontented,—no longer a disimbodied spirit, wandering
about only to frighten dogs out of their
senses; but John Hazlewood Higginson, Esq., solid
and substantial in purse and flesh, with a rosy face,
now reddening over the whole east. If I had
wanted any proof of the transformation beyond that
furnished by my own senses and sensations, it would
have been provided by my dog Ponto, who now
came running up, leaping on and about me with
the most extravagant joy.
“God be thanked!” I cried, dancing about as
joyously as the dog; “I am now a respectable
man, with my pockets full of money. Farewell,
then, you poor miserable Sheppard Lee! you ragamuffin!
you poor wretched shote! you half-starved
old sand-field Jersey kill-deer! you vagabond!
you beggar! you Dicky Dout, with the
wrong place in your upper story! you are now a
gentleman and a man of substance, and a happy
dog into the bargain. Ha, ha, ha!” and here I fell
a laughing out of pure joy; and giving my dog
Ponto a buss, as if that were the most natural act
in the world, and a customary way of showing my
satisfaction, I began to stalk towards my old ruined
house, without exactly knowing for what purpose,
but having some vague idea about me, that I would
set old Jim Jumble and his wife Dinah to shouting
and dancing; an amusement I would willingly
have seen the whole world engaged in at that
moment.
17. CHAPTER XVII.
A natural mistake, which, although it procures the Author a rough
reception at his own house, has yet the good effect to teach him
the propriety of adapting his manners to his condition.
I had not walked twenty yards, before a woodcock
that was feeding on the edge of the marsh
started up from under my nose, when, clapping my
gun to my shoulder, I let fly at him, and down he
came.
“Aha, Ponto!” said I, “when did I ever fail to
bring down a woodcock? Bring it along, Ponto,
you rascal.—Rum-te, ti, ti! rum-te, ti, ti!” and I
went on my way singing for pure joy, without
pausing to recharge, or to bag my game. I reached
my old house, and began to roar out, without reflecting
that I was now something more than Sheppard
Lee, “Hillo! Jim Jumble, you old rascal!
get up and let me in.”
“What you want, hah?” said old Jim, poking
his head from the garret-window of the kitchen,
and looking as sour as a persimmon before frost.
“Guess Massa Squire Higginson drunk, hah?
What you want? S'pose I'm gwyin to git up afo'
sunrise for not'in', and for anybody but my Massa
Sheppard?”
“Why, you old dog,” said I, in a passion, “I am
your master Sheppard; that is, your master John
Lee, the Jersey kill-deer, I've finished him,
you rascal; you'll never see him more. So get
down, and let me into the house, or I'll—”
“You will, hah?” said Jim; “you will what?”
“I'll shoot you, you insolent scoundrel!” I exclaimed,
in a rage,—as if it were the most natural
thing in the world for me to be in one; and as I
spoke, I raised my piece; when “Bow—wow—
wough!” went my old dog Bull, who had not bitten
a man for two years, but who now rushed from his
kennel under the porch, and seized me by the leg.
“Get out, Bull, you rascal!” said I, but he only
bit the harder; which threw me into such a fury
that I clapped the muzzle of my gun to his side,
and, having one charge remaining, blew him to
pieces.
“Golla-matty!” said old Jim, from the window,
whence he had surveyed the combat; “golla-matty!
shoot old Bull!”
And with that the black villain snatched up the
half of a brick, which I suppose he kept to daunt
unwelcome visiters, and taking aim at me, he cast
it so well as to bring it right against my left ear,
and so tumbled me to the ground. I would have
blown the rascal's brains out, in requital of this assault,
had there been a charge left in my piece, or
had he given me time to reload; but as soon as
he had cast the brick, he ran from the window, and
then reappeared, holding out an old musket that,
I remembered, he kept to shoot wild ducks and
this formidable weapon, and not knowing but that
the desperado would fire upon me, I was forced to
beat a retreat, which I did in double quick time,
being soon joined by my dog Ponto, who had fled,
like a coward, at the first bow-wough of the bulldog,
and saluted in my flight by the amiable tones
of Dinah, who now thrust her head from the window,
beside Jim's, and abused me as long as I
could hear.
| Sheppard Lee | |