The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, v. 2 (of 2)

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER I

  _The Story of the Goblins who stole a Sexton_

  "In an old abbey town, down in this part of the country, a long, longwhile ago--so long, that the story must be a true one, because ourgreat-grandfathers implicitly believed it--there officiated as sextonand grave-digger in the churchyard, one Gabriel Grub. It by no meansfollows that because a man is a sexton, and constantly surroundedby the emblems of mortality, therefore he should be a morose andmelancholy man; your undertakers are the merriest fellows in the world;and I once had the honour of being on intimate terms with a mute, whoin private life, and off duty, was as comical and jocose a littlefellow as ever chirped out a devil-may-care song, without a hitch inhis memory, or drained off the contents of a good stiff glass withoutstopping for breath. But, notwithstanding these precedents to thecontrary, Gabriel Grub was an ill-conditioned, cross-grained, surlyfellow--a morose and lonely man, who consorted with nobody but himself,and an old wicker bottle which fitted into his large deep waistcoatpocket--and who eyed each merry face, as it passed him by, with sucha deep scowl of malice and ill-humour, as it was difficult to meet,without feeling something the worse for.

  "A little before twilight, one Christmas Eve, Gabriel shoulderedhis spade, lighted his lantern, and betook himself towards the oldchurchyard; for he had got a grave to finish by next morning, and,feeling very low, he thought it might raise his spirits, perhaps, ifhe went on with his work at once. As he went his way, up the ancientstreet, he saw the cheerful light of blazing fires gleam throughthe old casements, and heard the loud laugh and the cheerful shoutsof those who were assembled around them; he marked the bustlingpreparations for next day's cheer, and smelt the numerous savouryodours consequent thereupon, as they steamed up from the kitchenwindows in clouds. All this was gall and wormwood to the heart ofGabriel Grub: and when groups of children bounded out of the houses,tripped across the road, and were met, before they could knock at theopposite door, by half a dozen curly-headed little rascals who crowdedround them as they flocked up-stairs to spend the evening in theirChristmas games, Gabriel smiled grimly, and clutched the handle of hisspade with a firmer grasp, as he thought of measles, scarlet-fever,thrush, hooping-cough, and a good many other sources of consolationbesides.

  "In this happy frame of mind, Gabriel strode along: returning a short,sullen growl to the good-humoured greetings of such of his neighboursas now and then passed him: until he turned into the dark lane whichled to the churchyard. Now, Gabriel had been looking forward toreaching the dark lane, because it was, generally speaking, a nice,gloomy, mournful place, into which the townspeople did not muchcare to go, except in broad daylight, and when the sun was shining;consequently, he was not a little indignant to hear a young urchinroaring out some jolly song about a merry Christmas, in this verysanctuary, which had been called Coffin Lane ever since the days of theold abbey, and the time of the shaven-headed monks. As Gabriel walkedon, and the voice drew nearer, he found it proceeded from a small boy,who was hurrying along, to join one of the little parties in the oldstreet, and who, partly to keep himself company, and partly to preparehimself for the occasion, was shouting out the song at the highestpitch of his lungs. So Gabriel waited until the boy came up, and thendodged him into a corner, and rapped him over the head with his lanternfive or six times, to teach him to modulate his voice. And as the boyhurried away with his hand to his head, singing quite a different sortof tune, Gabriel Grub chuckled very heartily to himself, and enteredthe churchyard: locking the gate behind him.

  "He took off his coat, put down his lantern, and getting into theunfinished grave, worked at it for an hour or so, with right goodwill. But the earth was hardened with the frost, and it was no veryeasy matter to break it up, and shovel it out; and although therewas a moon, it was a very young one, and shed little light upon thegrave, which was in the shadow of the church. At any other time, theseobstacles would have made Gabriel Grub very moody and miserable, buthe was so well pleased with having stopped the small boy's singing,that he took little heed of the scanty progress he had made, and lookeddown into the grave, when he had finished work for the night, with grimsatisfaction: murmuring as he gathered up his things:

  'Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one, A few feet of cold earth, when life is done; A stone at the head, a stone at the feet, A rich, juicy meal for the worms to eat; Rank grass over head, and damp clay around, Brave lodgings for one, these, in holy ground!'

  "'Ho! ho!' laughed Gabriel Grub, as he sat himself down on a flattombstone which was a favourite resting-place of his; and drew forthhis wicker bottle. 'A coffin at Christmas! A Christmas Box. Ho! ho! ho!'

  "'Ho! ho! ho!' repeated a voice which sounded close behind him.

  "Gabriel paused, in some alarm, in the act of raising the wicker bottleto his lips: and looked round. The bottom of the oldest grave about himwas not more still and quiet than the churchyard in the pale moonlight.The cold hoar-frost glistened on the tombstones, and sparkled like rowsof gems, among the stone carvings of the old church. The snow lay hardand crisp upon the ground; and spread over the thickly-strewn mounds ofearth, so white and smooth a cover, that it seemed as if corpses laythere, hidden only by their winding-sheets. Not the faintest rustlebroke the profound tranquillity of the solemn scene. Sound itselfappeared to be frozen up, all was so cold and still.

  "'It was the echoes,' said Gabriel Grub, raising the bottle to his lipsagain.

  "'It was _not_,' said a deep voice.

  "Gabriel started up, and stood rooted to the spot with astonishment andterror; for his eyes rested on a form that made his blood run cold.

  "Seated on an upright tombstone, close to him, was a strange unearthlyfigure, whom Gabriel felt at once, was no being of this world. His longfantastic legs, which might have reached the ground, were cocked up,and crossed after a quaint, fantastic fashion; his sinewy arms werebare; and his hands rested on his knees. On his short round body, hewore a close covering, ornamented with small slashes; a short cloakdangled at his back; the collar was cut into curious peaks, whichserved the goblin in lieu of ruff or neckerchief; and his shoes curledup at his toes into long points. On his head he wore a broad-brimmedsugar-loaf hat, garnished with a single feather. The hat was coveredwith the white frost; and the goblin looked as if he had sat on thesame tombstone, very comfortably, for two or three hundred years. Hewas sitting perfectly still; his tongue was put out, as if in derision;and he was grinning at Gabriel Grub with such a grin as only a goblincould call up.

  "'It was _not_ the echoes,' said the goblin.

  "Gabriel Grub was paralysed, and could make no reply.

  "'What do you do here on Christmas Eve?' said the goblin, sternly.

  "'I came to dig a grave, sir,' stammered Gabriel Grub.

  "'What man wanders among graves and churchyards on such a night asthis?' cried the goblin.

  "'Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!' screamed a wild chorus of voices thatseemed to fill the churchyard. Gabriel looked fearfully round--nothingwas to be seen.

  "'What have you got in that bottle?' said the goblin.

  "'Hollands, sir,' replied the sexton, trembling more than ever; forhe had bought it of the smugglers, and he thought that perhaps hisquestioner might be in the excise department of the goblins.

  "'Who drinks Hollands alone, and in the churchyard, on such a night asthis?' said the goblin.

  "'Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!' exclaimed the wild voices again.

  "The goblin leered maliciously at the terrified sexton, and thenraising his voice exclaimed:

  "'And who, then, is our fair and lawful prize?'

  "To this inquiry the invisible chorus replied, in a strain that soundedlike the voices of many choristers singing to the mighty swell of theold church organ--a strain that seemed borne to the sexton's ears upona wild wind, and to die away as it passed onward; but the burden of thereply was still the same, 'Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!'

  "The goblin grinned a broader grin than before, as he said, 'Well,Gabr
iel, what do you say to this?'

  "The sexton gasped for breath.

  "'What do you think of this, Gabriel?' said the goblin, kicking uphis feet in the air on either side of the tombstone, and lookingat the turned-up points with as much complacency as if he had beencontemplating the most fashionable pair of Wellingtons in all BondStreet.

  "'It's--it's--very curious, sir,' replied the sexton, half dead withfright; 'very curious, and very pretty, but I think I'll go back andfinish my work, sir, if you please.'

  "'Work!' said the goblin, 'what work?'

  "'The grave, sir; making the grave,' stammered the sexton.

  "'Oh, the grave, eh?' said the goblin; 'who makes graves at a time whenall other men are merry, and takes a pleasure in it?'

  "Again the mysterious voices replied, 'Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!'

  "'I'm afraid my friends want you, Gabriel,' said the goblin, thrustinghis tongue further into his cheek than ever--and a most astonishingtongue it was--'I'm afraid my friends want you, Gabriel,' said thegoblin.

  "'Under favour, sir,' replied the horror-stricken sexton, 'I don'tthink they can, sir; they don't know me, sir; I don't think thegentlemen have ever seen me, sir.'

  "'Oh yes, they have,' replied the goblin; 'we know the man with thesulky face and grim scowl, that came down the street to-night, throwinghis evil looks at the children, and grasping his burying-spade thetighter. We know the man who struck the boy in the envious malice ofhis heart, because the boy could be merry, and he could not. We knowhim, we know him.'

  "Here the goblin gave a loud shrill laugh, which the echoes returnedtwenty-fold: and throwing his legs up in the air, stood upon his head,or rather upon the very point of his sugar-loaf hat, on the narrowedge of the tombstone: whence he threw a somerset with extraordinaryagility, right to the sexton's feet, at which he planted himself in theattitude in which tailors generally sit upon the shop-board.

  "'I--I--am afraid I must leave you, sir,' said the sexton, making aneffort to move.

  "'Leave us!' said the goblin, 'Gabriel Grub going to leave us. Ho! ho!ho!'

  "As the goblin laughed, the sexton observed, for one instant, abrilliant illumination within the windows of the church, as if thewhole building were lighted up; it disappeared, the organ pealed fortha lively air, and whole troops of goblins, the very counterpart of thefirst one, poured into the churchyard, and began playing at leap-frogwith the tombstones: never stopping for an instant to take breath, but'overing' the highest among them, one after the other, with the utmostmarvellous dexterity. The first goblin was a most astonishing leaper,and none of the others could come near him; even in the extremity ofhis terror the sexton could not help observing, that while his friendswere content to leap over the common-sized gravestones, the first onetook the family vaults, iron railings and all, with as much ease as ifthey had been so many street posts.

  "At last the game reached to a most exciting pitch; the organ playedquicker and quicker; and the goblins leaped faster and faster: coilingthemselves up, rolling head over heels upon the ground, and boundingover the tombstones like footballs. The sexton's brain whirled roundwith the rapidity of the motion he beheld, and his legs reeled beneathhim, as the spirits flew before his eyes: when the goblin king,suddenly darting towards him, laid his hand upon his collar, and sankwith him through the earth.

  "When Gabriel Grub had had time to fetch his breath, which the rapidityof his descent had for the moment taken away, he found himself in whatappeared to be a huge cavern, surrounded on all sides by crowds ofgoblins, ugly and grim; in the centre of the room, on an elevated seat,was stationed his friend of the churchyard; and close beside him stoodGabriel Grub himself, without power of motion.

  "'Cold to-night,' said the king of the goblins, 'very cold. A glass ofsomething warm, here!'

  "At this command, half a dozen officious goblins, with a perpetualsmile upon their faces, whom Gabriel Grub imagined to be courtiers, onthat account, hastily disappeared, and presently returned with a gobletof liquid fire, which they presented to the king.

  "'Ah!' cried the goblin, whose cheeks and throat were transparent, ashe tossed down the flame, 'this warms one, indeed! Bring a bumper ofthe same for Mr. Grub.'

  "It was in vain for the unfortunate sexton to protest that he was notin the habit of taking anything warm at night; one of the goblins heldhim while another poured the blazing liquid down his throat; the wholeassembly screeched with laughter as he coughed and choked, and wipedaway the tears which gushed plentifully from his eyes, after swallowingthe burning draught.

  "'And now,' said the king, fantastically poking the taper corner of hissugar-loaf hat into the sexton's eye, and thereby occasioning him themost exquisite pain: 'And now, show the man of misery and gloom, a fewof the pictures from our own great storehouse!'

  "As the goblin said this, a thick cloud which obscured the remoterend of the cavern rolled gradually away, and disclosed, apparently ata great distance, a small and scantily furnished, but neat and cleanapartment. A crowd of little children were gathered round a brightfire, clinging to their mother's gown, and gambolling around her chair.The mother occasionally rose, and drew aside the window-curtain, as ifto look for some expected object; a frugal meal was ready spread uponthe table; and an elbow chair was placed near the fire. A knock washeard at the door: the mother opened it, and the children crowded roundher, and clapped their hands for joy, as their father entered. He waswet and weary, and shook the snow from his garments, as the childrencrowded round him, and seizing his cloak, hat, stick, and gloves,with busy zeal, ran with them from the room. Then, as he sat down tohis meal before the fire, the children climbed about his knee, and themother sat by his side, and all seemed happiness and comfort.

  "But a change came upon the view, almost imperceptibly. The scene wasaltered to a small bed-room, where the fairest and youngest child laydying; the roses had fled from his cheek, and the light from his eye;and even as the sexton looked upon him with an interest he had neverfelt or known before, he died. His young brothers and sisters crowdedround his little bed, and seized his tiny hand, so cold and heavy; butthey shrunk back from its touch, and looked with awe on his infantface; for calm and tranquil as it was, and sleeping in rest and peaceas the beautiful child seemed to be, they saw that he was dead, andthey knew that he was an Angel looking down upon, and blessing them,from a bright and happy Heaven.

  "Again the light cloud passed across the picture, and again the subjectchanged. The father and mother were old and helpless now, and thenumber of those about them was diminished more than half; but contentand cheerfulness sat on every face, and beamed in every eye, as theycrowded round the fireside, and told and listened to old stories ofearlier and bygone days. Slowly and peacefully the father sank intothe grave, and, soon after, the sharer of all his cares and troublesfollowed him to a place of rest. The few, who yet survived them, kneltby their tomb, and watered the green turf which covered it, with theirtears; then rose, and turned away: sadly and mournfully, but not withbitter cries, or despairing lamentations, for they knew that theyshould one day meet again; and once more they mixed with the busyworld, and their content and cheerfulness were restored. The cloudsettled upon the picture, and concealed it from the sexton's view.

  "'What do you think of _that_?' said the goblin, turning his large facetowards Gabriel Grub.

  "Gabriel murmured out something about its being very pretty, and lookedsomewhat ashamed, as the goblin bent his fiery eyes upon him.

  "'_You_ a miserable man!' said the goblin, in a tone of excessivecontempt. 'You!' He appeared disposed to add more, but indignationchoked his utterance, so he lifted up one of his very pliable legs, andflourishing it above his head a little, to insure his aim, administereda good sound kick to Gabriel Grub; immediately after which, all thegoblins in waiting crowded round the wretched sexton, and kicked himwithout mercy: according to the established and invariable custom ofcourtiers upon earth, who kick whom royalty kicks, and hug whom royaltyhugs.

  "'Show him some m
ore!' said the king of the goblins.

  "At these words, the cloud was dispelled, and a rich and beautifullandscape was disclosed to view--there is just such another to thisday, within half a mile of the old abbey town. The sun shone fromout the clear blue sky, the water sparkled beneath his rays, and thetrees looked greener, and the flowers more gay, beneath his cheeringinfluence. The water rippled on, with a pleasant sound; the treesrustled in the light wind that murmured among their leaves; the birdssang upon the boughs; and the lark carolled on high, her welcome to themorning. Yes, it was morning: the bright, balmy morning of summer; theminutest leaf, the smallest blade of grass, was instinct with life.The ant crept forth to her daily toil, the butterfly fluttered andbasked in the warm rays of the sun; myriads of insects spread theirtransparent wings, and revelled in their brief but happy existence.Man walked forth, elated with the scene; and all was brightness andsplendour.

  "'_You_ a miserable man!' said the king of the goblins, in a morecontemptuous tone than before. And again the king of the goblins gavehis leg a flourish; again it descended on the shoulders of the sexton;and again the attendant goblins imitated the example of their chief.

  "Many a time the cloud went and came, and many a lesson it taught toGabriel Grub, who, although his shoulders smarted with pain from thefrequent applications of the goblins' feet, looked on with an interestthat nothing could diminish. He saw that men who worked hard, andearned their scanty bread with lives of labour, were cheerful andhappy; and that to the most ignorant, the sweet face of nature was anever-failing source of cheerfulness and joy. He saw those who hadbeen delicately nurtured, and tenderly brought up, cheerful underprivations, and superior to suffering, that would have crushed manyof a rougher grain, because they bore within their own bosoms thematerials of happiness, contentment, and peace. He saw that women, thetenderest and most fragile of all God's creatures, were the oftenestsuperior to sorrow, adversity, and distress; and he saw that it wasbecause they bore in their own hearts, an inexhaustible well-spring ofaffection and devotion. Above all, he saw that men like himself, whosnarled at the mirth and cheerfulness of others, were the foulest weedson the fair face of the earth; and setting all the good of the worldagainst the evil, he came to the conclusion that it was a very decentand respectable sort of world after all. No sooner had he formed it,than the cloud which closed over the last picture, seemed to settle onhis senses, and lull him to repose. One by one the goblins faded fromhis sight; and as the last one disappeared, he sunk to sleep.

  "The day had broken when Gabriel Grub awoke, and found himself lying,at full length, on the flat grave-stone in the churchyard with thewicker bottle lying empty by his side, and his coat, spade, andlantern, all well whitened by the last night's frost, scattered onthe ground. The stone on which he had first seen the goblin seated,stood bolt upright before him, and the grave at which he had worked,the night before, was not far off. At first, he began to doubt thereality of his adventures, but the acute pain in his shoulders whenhe attempted to rise, assured him that the kicking of the goblins wascertainly not ideal. He was staggered again, by observing no traces offootsteps in the snow, on which the goblins had played at leap-frogwith the grave-stones, but he speedily accounted for this circumstancewhen he remembered that, being spirits, they would leave no visibleimpression behind them. So, Gabriel Grub got on his feet as well as hecould, for the pain in his back; and brushing the frost off his coat,put it on, and turned his face towards the town.

  "But he was an altered man, and he could not bear the thought ofreturning to a place where his repentance would be scoffed at, and hisreformation disbelieved. He hesitated for a few moments; and thenturned away to wander where he might, and seek his bread elsewhere.

  "The lantern, the spade, and the wicker bottle, were found, that day,in the churchyard. There were a great many speculations about thesexton's fate, at first, but it was speedily determined that he hadbeen carried away by the goblins; and there were not wanting somevery credible witnesses who had distinctly seen him whisked throughthe air on the back of a chestnut horse blind of one eye, with thehind-quarters of a lion, and the tail of a bear. At length all this wasdevoutly believed; and the new sexton used to exhibit to the curious,for a trifling emolument, a good-sized piece of the church weathercockwhich had been accidentally kicked off by the aforesaid horse in hisa?rial flight, and picked up by himself in the churchyard, a year ortwo afterwards.

  "Unfortunately, these stories were somewhat disturbed by theunlooked-for reappearance of Gabriel Grub himself, some ten yearsafterwards, a ragged, contented, rheumatic old man. He told his storyto the clergyman, and also to the mayor; and in course of time it beganto be received as a matter of history, in which form it has continueddown to this very day. The believers in the weathercock tale, havingmisplaced their confidence once, were not easily prevailed upon topart with it again, so they looked as wise as they could, shruggedtheir shoulders, touched their foreheads, and murmured something aboutGabriel Grub having drunk all the Hollands, and then fallen asleepon the flat tombstone; and they affected to explain what he supposedhe had witnessed in the goblins' cavern, by saying that he had seenthe world, and grown wiser. But this opinion, which was by no means apopular one at any time, gradually died off; and be the matter how itmay, as Gabriel Grub was afflicted with rheumatism to the end of hisdays, this story has at least one moral, if it teach no better one--andthat is, that if a man turn sulky and drink by himself at Christmastime, he may make up his mind to be not a bit the better for it: letthe spirits be never so good, or let them be even as many degreesbeyond proof, as those which Gabriel Grub saw in the goblins' cavern."