CHAPTER XII.
There remains A rugged trunk, dismember'd and unsightly, Waiting the bursting of the final bolt To splinter it to shivers.
THE DOOM OF DEVORGOIL.
The shore of the Chesapeake between Cape St. Michael--as the northernheadland at the mouth of Potomac was denominated by the earlysettlers--and the Patuxent, is generally flat, and distinguished by aclear pebbly beach or strand. The shore, comprising about twenty miles,is intersected by a single creek, that of St. Jerome, which enters thebay some five or six miles north of the Potomac. The line of beach,which I have referred to, is here and there relieved by smallelevations which in any other region would scarce deserve the name, butwhich are sufficiently prominent in this locality to attract remark.From the general level of the country they rise high enough to afford aclear prospect over the wide waters, and no less to distinguish thelandward perspective to the mariner whose eye eagerly seeks thevarieties of landscape as he holds his course up the bay. At a fewpoints these small hills terminate immediately upon the tide in theabrupt form of a cliff, and, at others, take the shape of a knollsinking away by a rapid, but grass-covered, declivity to the strand.This latter feature is observable in the vicinity of St. Jerome's,where the slope falls somewhat abruptly to the level of the tide,leaving something above fifty paces in width of low ground between itsbase and the ordinary water-mark. It was upon this flat that, inancient times, stood the dwelling house of Paul Kelpy the fisherman--along, low building of deal boards, constructed somewhat in the shape ofa warehouse or magazine. Some quarter of a mile along the beach, sosheltered under the brow of the slope as scarcely to be seen amongstthe natural shrubbery that shaded it, stood a cottage or hut of veryhumble pretensions. It was so low that a man of ordinary height, whilestanding at the door, might lay his hand upon the eaves of the roof,and correspondent to its elevation, it was so scanty in space as toafford but two apartments, of which the largest was not above ten feetsquare. It was strongly built of hewn logs, and the door, strengthenedby nails thickly studded over its surface, was further fortified by aheavy padlock, which rendered it sufficiently impregnable against asharper assault than might be counted on from such as ordinarily shouldfind motive to molest the proprietor of such a dwelling.
A small enclosure surrounded the hut and furnished ground for somecommon garden plants which were not neglected in their culture. A fewacres, on the higher plain above the bank, exhibited signs ofhusbandry; and the small nets and other fishing tackle disposed aboutthe curtilage, together with a skiff drawn up on the sand, gaveevidence of the ostensible thrift by which the occupant of the hutobtained a livelihood.
To this spot I propose to introduce my reader, the day preceding thatat which my story has been opened. It was about an hour before sunset,and a light drizzling rain, with a steady wind from the north-east,infused a chilly gloom into the air, and heightened the tone ofsolitude which prevailed over the scene. A thin curl of smoke whichrose from the clumsy chimney of the hut gave a sign of habitation tothe premises, and this was further confirmed by the presence of a largeand cross-visaged mastiff-bitch, whose heavy head might be discernedthrust forth from beneath the sill of the gable,--a sullen warder ofthis sullen place of strength. The waves, now propelled upon a floodtide, rolled in upon the shore, and broke almost at the door of thehut, with a hoarse and harsh and ceaseless plash. Far out over the bay,the white caps of the wind-driven surge floated like changing snowdrifts upon the surface of the waters. The water fowl rose in squadronsabove this murky waste and struggled to windward, in a flight so low asfrequently to shield them from the sight in the spray. An old baldeagle perched on the loftiest branch of a lightning-riven tree,immediately upon the bank above the hut, kept anxious watch upon hernest which, built in the highest fork, rocked to and fro in the breeze,whilst her screams of warning to her young seemed to answer to the dinof the waters.
In the larger apartment of the hut a few fagots blazed upon the hearth,supplying heat to a pot that simmered above them, the care of which,together with other culinary operations, engaged the attention of abrown, haggard and weather-beaten woman, who plied this household dutywith a silent and mechanical thrift. She was not the only tenant of thedwelling. Remote from the hearth, and immediately below a small window,sat, apparently upon the floor, a figure eminently calculated tochallenge observation. His features were those of a man of seventy,sharp, shrewd and imprinted with a deep trace of care. His frameindicated the possession, at an earlier period of his life, of thehighest degree of strength; it was broad in the shoulders, ample inchest, and still muscular, although deprived of its roundness by age.His dress, of coarse green serge, made into a doublet with skirts thatfell both front and rear, secured by a leathern belt, was so contrivedas to conceal, in his present posture, his lower extremities. A broadruff received his locks of iron gray, which fell over his back in crispwiry curls: a thick grizzly beard, of the same hue, gave an elongationto his countenance which imparted to the observer the unpleasantimpression of a head disproportionally large for the body, at least asseen in its present aspect. His eyes dark and unusually clear, weresunk deep in their sockets, whilst a shaggy and matted brow,overhanging them like a porch, gave sometimes an almost preternaturalbrilliancy to their quick and changeful glances--like the sparkling ofwater when agitated in a well. It was observable from the dropping inof the upper jaw that he had lost his teeth, and this perhaps had givena tendency of the strong furrowed lines and seams, with which hisfeatures were marked, to converge towards the mouth.
His girdle sustained a long knife or dagger, which apparentlyconstituted a part of his daily equipment; and the oblique flash of hiseye, and tremulous motion of his thin lip betrayed a temperament, fromwhich one might infer that this weapon of offence was not worn merelyas an ornament of the person.
The individual described in this summary was familiar to report,throughout the province, as The Cripple. His true name was supposed tobe Robert Swale,--but this was almost lost in the pervading populardesignation of Rob of the Bowl, or Trencher Rob--an appellative whichhe had borne ever since his arrival in the province, now some fifteenyears gone by. Of his history but little was known, and that little wasduly mystified, in the public repute, by the common tendency in thevulgar mind to make the most of any circumstance of suspicion. Thestory went that he had been shipwrecked, on a winter voyage, upon thiscoast, and, after suffering incredible hardships, had saved his lifeonly at the expense of the loss of both legs by frost. In this maimedcondition he had reached the shore of the province, and some timeafterwards built the hut in which he now dwelt, near the mouth of St.Jerome's. Here he had passed many years, without attracting othernotice than such as the stinted charity of the world affords, when itis exercised upon the fate or fortunes of an obscure recluse. Thisobservation began to find a broader scope as soon as it became obviousthat the hermit was not altogether an object of almsgiving; and thelittle world of this part of the province discovering in process oftime that he was not absolutely penniless, were fain to take offence atthe mystery of his means of earning his frugal subsistence. Before manyyears, some few of the traders and country people round had found outthat Rob was occasionally possessed of good merchantable commoditiesmuch in request by the inhabitants of the port, and dark whispers weresometimes circulated touching the manner in which he came by them.These surmises were not made topics of public discussion for tworeasons;--first, because it was not inconvenient or unprofitable to thetraders in the secret to deal with Rob;--and secondly, Rob was not aman to allow this indulgence of idle speculation; he was of anirascible temper, free to strike when crossed, and, what was still moreto be feared, had friends who were not unwilling to take up hisquarrel. The loss of his legs was supplied by a wooden bowl ortrencher, of an elliptical shape, to which his thighs were attached bya strap, and this rude contrivance was swayed forward, when the ownerchose, by the aid of two short crutches, which enabled him to lifthimself from the ground and assume a progressive motion.
It was to theexercise which this mode of locomotion imposed upon his upper limbs,that the unusual breadth and squareness of his figure about theshoulders, as well as the visible manifestations of strength of arm forwhich he was remarkable, were in part, perhaps, to be attributed. Usehad made him expert in the management of his bowl, and he could keeppace pretty fairly with an ordinary walker. The Cripple was a man ofunsocial habits and ascetic life, although there were times in whichhis severe temper relaxed into an approach to companionable enjoyment,and then his intercourse with the few who had access to him was markedby a sarcastic humour and keen ridicule of human action which showedsome grudge against the world, and, at the same time, denotedconversancy with mankind, and by no means a deficiency of education.But, in general, his vein was peevish, and apt to vent itself inindiscriminate petulance or stern reproof.
A small painting of St. Romuald at his devotions, by the hand ofSalvator himself, hung over a dressing table, in the back room of thehut in which the bed of the Cripple was placed; and this exquisite gemof art, which the possessor seemed duly to appreciate, was surmountedby a crucifix, indicating the religious faith in which he worshipped.This might be gathered also from a curious, antique pix, of heavygilded metal, a ponderous missal with silver clasps, a few old volumesof the lives of the saints, and other furniture of the like nature, allof which denoted that the ingredient of a religious devotee formed anelement in his singular compound of character.
The superiority of his mind and attainments over those of the mass ofthe inhabitants of the province had contributed to render the Cripplean object of some interest as well as of distrust amongst them, andthis sentiment was heightened into one approaching to vulgar awe, bythe reputation of the person who had always been somewhat in hisconfidence, and now attended him as his servitress and only domestic.This person was the ungainly and repulsive beldam whom I have alreadynoticed as ministering in the household concerns of the hut. She was awoman who had long maintained a most unenviable fame as The Woman ofWarrington, in the small hamlet of that name on the Cliffs of Patuxent,from whence she had been recently transplanted to perform the domesticdrudgery in which we have found her. Her habitation was a rude hovelsome few hundred paces distant from the hut of the Cripple, on themargin of St. Jerome's creek, and within gunshot of the rear of theBlack Chapel. To this hovel, after her daily work was done, she retiredto pass the night, leaving her master or patron to that solitude whichhe seemed to prefer to any society. The surly mastiff-bitch, we havenoticed, alternately kept guard at the hut of the master anddomestic,--roving between the two in nightly patrol, with a gruff andunsocial fidelity,--no unsuitable go-between to so strange a pair. Itwill not be wondered at, that, in a superstitious age, such anassociation as that of the Cripple and the crone, in the vicinity ofsuch a spot, desecrated, as the Fisherman's lodge had been, by theacting of a horrible tragedy, should excite, far and wide amongst thepeople, a sentiment of terror sufficiently potent to turn the steps ofthe wayfarer, as the shades of evening fell around him, aside from thepath that led to St. Jerome's.
The Cripple, at the time when I have chosen to present him to myreader, was seated, as I have said, immediately beneath the window. Apair of spectacles assisted his vision as he perused a pacquet ofpapers, several of which lay scattered around him. The dim light for awhile perplexed his labour, and he had directed the door to be thrownwide open that he might take advantage of the last moment before theapproaching twilight should arrest his occupation. Whilst thusemployed, the deadened sound of a shot boomed across the bay.
"Ha!" he exclaimed as he threw aside the paper in his hand and directedhis eyes towards the water; "there is a signal--by my body, a signalgun!--an ill bird is flying homeward. Did you not hear that shot,woman?"
"I had my dream of the brigantine two nights ago," replied theservitress; "and of the greedy kite that calls himself her master;--theshot must be his."
"Whose can it be else?" demanded the Cripple sharply, as he swunghimself forward to the doorsill and shook his locks from his brow inthe act of straining his sight across the dim surface of the bay. "Ay,ay; there it is. Hark--another shot!--that is the true pass wordbetween us:--Dickon, sure enough!--The brigantine is in the offing.Cocklescraft is coming in with the speed of a gull. He comes fullfreighted--full freighted, as is his wont, with the world's plunder.What dole hath he done this flight?--what more wealthy knave thanhimself hath he robbed? Mischief, mischief, mischief--good store of it,I'll be sworn:--and a keener knave than himself he hath not found inhis wide venture. He will be coming ashore to visit the Cripple,ha!--he shall be welcome--as he ever hath been. We are comrades,--weare cronies, and merry in our divisions--the Skipper and theCripple!--there is concord in it--the Skipper and the Cripple--merrymen both!"
These uprisings of the inner thoughts of the man were uttered invarious tones--one moment scarce audible, the next with an emphaticenunciation, as if addressed to his companion in the hut,--andsometimes with the semblance of a laugh, or rather chuckle, which waswormwood in its accent, and brought the rheum from his eye down hischeek. The beldam, accustomed to this habit of self-communion in theCripple, apparently heeded not these mutterings, until he, at length,accosted her with a command.--"Mistress Kate, double the contents ofyour pot;--the skipper and some of his men will be here presently, askeen and trenchant as their own cutlasses. They will be hungry,woman,--as these saltwater monsters always are for earthy provender."
"Such sharp-set cattle should bring their provender with them," repliedthe domestic, as she went about increasing her store of provision incompliance with her master's directions.
"Or the good red gold, or the good red gold, old jade!" interrupted theCripple. "The skipper doth not shrink in the girdle from the disease ofa lean purse, and is therefore worthy of our worshipful entertainment.So goes the world, and we will be in the fashion! Though the world'smalisons drive him hither as before a tempest, yet, comes he rich inits gear; he shall have princely reception. I am king of this castle,and ordain it. Is he taking in sail?--is he seeking an anchorage? Ha,he understands his craft, and will be with us anon," he continued, ashe marked the movements of the approaching vessel.
There might be dimly seen, nearly abreast of St. Jerome's, aclose-reefed brig, holding her course before a fair wind directlyacross the bay towards the hut of the Cripple. She was, at intervals,lost to view behind the thickening haze, and as often re-appeared asshe bent under the fresh north-east breeze and bounded rapidly with thewaves towards the lee shore. It was after the hour of sunset when thetenants of the hut were just able to discern, in the murky gloom of thenear nightfall, that she had lowered sail and swung round with her headseaward, at an anchorage some two miles out in the bay.
"Quick, Mistress Kate, and kindle some brush-wood on the shore," saidthe master of the hut. "It grows suddenly dark, and the boat's crewwill need a signal to steer by."
The woman gathered a handful of fagots, and, kindling them into ablaze, transferred them to the beach in front of the hut, where,notwithstanding the rain, they burned with a steady light. Thisillumination had not subsided before the stroke of oars rose above thedin of the waves; and the boat with her crew, sheeted with the broadglare of the signal-fire, suddenly appeared mounted on the surf,surrounded with foam and spray, and in the same instant was heardgrating on the gravel of the beach.
Cocklescraft, with two seamen, entered the hut. The skipper was now inthe prime of youthful manhood; tall, active and strong, with the freestep and erect bearing that no less denoted the fearlessness of hisnature than pride in the consciousness of such a quality. His face,tinged with a deep brown hue, was not unhandsome, although anexpression of sensuality, to some extent, deprived it of its claim tobe admired. A brilliant eye suffered the same disparagement by itsover-ready defiance, which told of a temper obtrusively prone toquarrel. The whole physiognomy wanted gentleness, although a fine setof teeth, a regular profile, and a complexion which, with properallowance for exposure to the weather, was uncommonly good, wouldunquest
ionably have won from the majority of observers the repute of ahigh degree of masculine beauty.
A scarlet jacket fitted close across the breast, wide breeches ofash-coloured stuff, hanging in the fashion of a kirtle or kilt to theknees, tight grey hose, accurately displaying the leg in all its fineproportions, and light shoes, furnished a costume well adapted to thelithe and sinewy figure of the wearer. A jet black and glossymoustache, and tuft below the nether lip, gave a martial aspect to hisface, which had, nevertheless, the smoothness of skin of a boy. He worein his embroidered belt, a pair of pistols richly mounted with chasedsilver and costly jewels, and his person was somewhat gorgeously and,in his present occupation, inappropriately ornamented with gems andchains of gold. His hair, in almost feminine luxuriance, descended inringlets upon his neck. A large hat made of the palm leaf, broad enoughto shade his face and shoulders, but ill sorted with the rest of hisapparel, and was still less adapted to the season and the latitude hewas in, though it threw into the general expression of his figure thattrait of the swaggering companion which was, in fact, somewhatprominent in his character.
"How dost, friend Rob?" was his salutation in crossing the threshold;"how dost, Rob o' the Bowl, or Rob o' the Trencher?--bowl ortrencher,--either likes me; I am sworn friend to both," he continued ashe stooped and took the Cripple's hand.
"Ay, thy conscience has never stayed thee," was the Cripple's reply, ashe received the skipper's grasp, "when thou wouldst put thy hand inanother man's bowl or trencher,--and especially, Dickon, if they weremade of gold. Thou hast an appetite for such dishes. How now! where doyou come from?"
"That shall be answered variously, friend of the wooden platter. If youspeak to me as Meinherr Von Cogglescraft, I am from Antwerp, master ofthe Olive Branch, with a comfortable cargo of Hollands, and winesFrench and Rhenish, old greybeard, and some solid articles of Dutchbulk. But if it be to the Caballero Don Ricardo,--le beso las manos!--Iam from Tortuga and the Keys, Senor Capitan del Escalfador (there ismuch virtue in a painted cloth) with a choice assortment ofknicknackeries, which shall set every wench in the province agog. Ihave rare velvets of Genoa, piled and cut in the choicest fashions: Ihave grograms, and stuffs, and sarsnets, with a whole inventory ofwoman trumpery--the very pick of a Spanish bark, bound from Naples tothe islands, which was so foolish as to read my flag by its seeming,and just to drop into the Chafing-Dish when he thought he was getting aconvoy to help him out of the way of the too pressing and inquisitivecourtesies of certain lurking friends of ours in the Keys. I have,besides, some trinkets, which are none the worse for having beenblessed by the church. You shall have a choice, Rob, to deck out yourchamber with some saintly gems."
"Ha! I guessed thy deviltry, Dickon," said Rob, with a laugh which, asalways happened when much moved, brought tears down his cheeks--"Iguessed it when I saw thee step across the door-sill with that largeand suspicious sombrero on thy head. It never came from Holland--thoughyou would fain persuade the province folks that you trade no whereelse: it is of the breed of the tropics, and smells of Hispaniola andSanto Domingo."
"It is a tell-tale," replied Cocklescraft, "and should have been thrownoverboard before this. Old Kate of Warrington, thy hand--and here is ahand for thee! How does the world use thee? Fairly, I hope, as youdeserve? You shall have the sombrero, Kate: you can truss it up into anew fashion for a bonnet, and I have store of ribands to give thee toset it off."
"My share of this world's favour," said the crone, in acknowledgment ofthe skipper's bounty, "has never been more than the cast-off bravery ofsuch as hold a high head over a wicked heart. I have ever served at themess of the devil's bantlings. But, as the custom is, I must be civiland thankful for these blessings; and so, Master Cocklescraft, I giveyou thanks," she added with a courtesy, as she placed the hat upon herhead and strutted fantastically in the room, "for your dainty head-gearthat you are unwilling to wear, and durst not, master, before the PortWardens of St. Mary's."
"How, Kate!" exclaimed the skipper, "you have lost no whit of thatrailing tongue I left with you at my last venture? I marvel that thedevil hath not shorn it, out of pure envy. But I know, Kate, you can dojustice to the good will of a friend, after all: I would have thee toknow that thou hast not been unconsidered, good mother of a thousanddevilkins: I have brought thee stuff for a new gown, rich and ladylike,Kate, and becoming thy grave and matronly years, and sundry trickeriesfor it, by way of garniture; and, reverend dam of night-monsters, Ihave in store for thee some most choice distillations of the WestIndies, both plain and spiced. Thou dost not spurn the strong waters,Kate of Warrington,--nor the giver of them?"
"This is a make-peace fashion of thine," said the beldam, relaxing intoa smile. "You thought not of the woman of Warrington--no, not so muchas a dog's dream of her--until it chanced to come into your head thatthe foolish crone had a will which it might not be for your good to setagainst you. I knew your incoming, Richard Cocklescraft, before it wasthought of in the province; and I know when your outgoing will be. Youcome with a surly sky and a gay brow;--you shall trip it hence with abright heaven above you, and deftly, boy--but with a heavy heart and anew crime upon thy soul."
"Peace, woman! I will hear none of thy croakings--it is an old trick ofthine; the device is too stale," said Cocklescraft, half playfully andhalf vexed. "You are no conjuror, Kate, as you would make the worldbelieve by these owl-hootings: if you had but a needle's-eyeful of thetrue witch in you, you would have foretold what bounty my luck hasbrought you.--Rob, we have packages to land to-night. Is the Chapelready for our service?"
"How should it be other than ready? Doth not the devil keep hisquarters there?" said Rob with a low-toned chuckle that shook hisfigure for some moments, and almost closed his eyes; "hath he not hiscourt in the Chapel? Go ask the whole country side: they will swear toit on their bible oaths. Sundries have seen the hoofs and horns, andheard the howlings,--ay, and smelt the brimstone--ha, ha, ha! They'llswear to it. Is the Chapel ready, in sooth! It is a precious Chapel!Paul Kelpy, thou wert an honest cut-throat, to bedevil so good a house:we turn it to account--ha, ha! It needs but to take the key, Dickon. Iwarrant you ne'er a man in the province, burgher or planter, gentle orsimple, ventures near enough to molest you."
"The surf runs high," said Cocklescraft, "and may give us trouble inthe landing to-night; and as daylight must not find me in thislatitude, I shall put what I may ashore before the dawn, and then takea flight to the opposite side of the bay. To-morrow night I shallfinish my work; and you shall soon after hear, at St. Mary's, that thegood and peaceful brigantine, the Olive Branch, has arrived fromHolland. Meantime, I will leave you a half dozen men to garrison theChapel, Rob."
"It is so well garrisoned with my merry goblins already," said Rob,"that it requires but a light watch. The fires alone would frighten hisLordship's whole array of rangers. That was a pretty device of mine,Dickon--blue, green, and red--excellent devil-fires all! Then I havemasks--faith, most special masks! the very noses of them would frightenthe short-winded train-bands of the Port into catalepsy. And the Chapelhad an ill name when the fisherman shed blood on the floor: but sincewe blackened it, Richard--oh, that was a subtle thought!--it is pastall power of exorcism: there is an ague in the very name of the BlackChapel." And here the Cripple gave way to a burst of laughter, whichhad been struggling for vent during all this reference to the arts bywhich he had contrived to maintain the popular dread of the fisherman'slodge.
Whilst this conference was held, the crone had prepared their eveningmeal, which being now ready, Rob was lifted upon a low platform thatbrought him to the proper level with the table, where he was able tohelp himself. Cocklescraft partook with him, and might almost haveenvied the keen gust and ravenous appetite with which his hostdespatched the coarse but savoury fare of the board--for the Cripple'spower of stomach seemed to be no whit impaired by age. He continued totalk, during his meal, in the same strain which we have described, nowindulging a peevish self-communion, now bursting forth with somesarcastic objurgation of the world
, and again breaking a jest with hisvisiter.
When the seamen, under the ministration of the aged domestic, had gottheir supper, Cocklescraft took his departure.
All night long lights were gleaming in the Chapel; the rain continuedin a steady misty drizzle, and not a star was seen to tempt a wandererabroad. The morning, which broke upon an atmosphere purged of itsvapours, showed no trace of the brig in the vicinity of St. Jerome's.Far down the bay, hugging the eastern shore, might have been discernedwhat a practised mariner would affirm to be a sail; but whether ship orbrig--whether outward or homeward bound, might not be told without theaid of a glass.
Rob of the Bowl: A Legend of St. Inigoe's. Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 12
