The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4

by Edgar Allan Poe

  THE OBLONG BOX.

  SOME years ago, I engaged passage from Charleston, S. C, to the city ofNew York, in the fine packet-ship "Independence," Captain Hardy. We wereto sail on the fifteenth of the month (June), weather permitting; andon the fourteenth, I went on board to arrange some matters in mystate-room.

  I found that we were to have a great many passengers, including amore than usual number of ladies. On the list were several of myacquaintances, and among other names, I was rejoiced to see that of Mr.Cornelius Wyatt, a young artist, for whom I entertained feelings ofwarm friendship. He had been with me a fellow-student at C-- University,where we were very much together. He had the ordinary temperament ofgenius, and was a compound of misanthropy, sensibility, and enthusiasm.To these qualities he united the warmest and truest heart which everbeat in a human bosom.

  I observed that his name was carded upon three state-rooms; and, uponagain referring to the list of passengers, I found that he had engagedpassage for himself, wife, and two sisters--his own. The state-roomswere sufficiently roomy, and each had two berths, one above theother. These berths, to be sure, were so exceedingly narrow as to beinsufficient for more than one person; still, I could not comprehend whythere were three state-rooms for these four persons. I was, just at thatepoch, in one of those moody frames of mind which make a man abnormallyinquisitive about trifles: and I confess, with shame, that I busiedmyself in a variety of ill-bred and preposterous conjectures about thismatter of the supernumerary state-room. It was no business of mine,to be sure, but with none the less pertinacity did I occupy myself inattempts to resolve the enigma. At last I reached a conclusion whichwrought in me great wonder why I had not arrived at it before. "It isa servant of course," I said; "what a fool I am, not sooner to havethought of so obvious a solution!" And then I again repaired to thelist--but here I saw distinctly that no servant was to come with theparty, although, in fact, it had been the original design to bringone--for the words "and servant" had been first written andthen overscored. "Oh, extra baggage, to be sure," I now said tomyself--"something he wishes not to be put in the hold--something tobe kept under his own eye--ah, I have it--a painting or so--and this iswhat he has been bargaining about with Nicolino, the Italian Jew." Thisidea satisfied me, and I dismissed my curiosity for the nonce.

  Wyatt's two sisters I knew very well, and most amiable and clever girlsthey were. His wife he had newly married, and I had never yet seen her.He had often talked about her in my presence, however, and in his usualstyle of enthusiasm. He described her as of surpassing beauty, wit,and accomplishment. I was, therefore, quite anxious to make heracquaintance.

  On the day in which I visited the ship (the fourteenth), Wyatt and partywere also to visit it--so the captain informed me--and I waited on boardan hour longer than I had designed, in hope of being presented to thebride, but then an apology came. "Mrs. W. was a little indisposed, andwould decline coming on board until to-morrow, at the hour of sailing."

  The morrow having arrived, I was going from my hotel to the wharf, whenCaptain Hardy met me and said that, "owing to circumstances" (a stupidbut convenient phrase), "he rather thought the 'Independence' would notsail for a day or two, and that when all was ready, he would send up andlet me know." This I thought strange, for there was a stiff southerlybreeze; but as "the circumstances" were not forthcoming, although Ipumped for them with much perseverance, I had nothing to do but toreturn home and digest my impatience at leisure.

  I did not receive the expected message from the captain for nearly aweek. It came at length, however, and I immediately went on board. Theship was crowded with passengers, and every thing was in the bustleattendant upon making sail. Wyatt's party arrived in about ten minutesafter myself. There were the two sisters, the bride, and the artist--thelatter in one of his customary fits of moody misanthropy. I was too wellused to these, however, to pay them any special attention. He did noteven introduce me to his wife--this courtesy devolving, per force, uponhis sister Marian--a very sweet and intelligent girl, who, in a fewhurried words, made us acquainted.

  Mrs. Wyatt had been closely veiled; and when she raised her veil, inacknowledging my bow, I confess that I was very profoundly astonished. Ishould have been much more so, however, had not long experienceadvised me not to trust, with too implicit a reliance, the enthusiasticdescriptions of my friend, the artist, when indulging in comments uponthe loveliness of woman. When beauty was the theme, I well knew withwhat facility he soared into the regions of the purely ideal.

  The truth is, I could not help regarding Mrs. Wyatt as a decidedlyplain-looking woman. If not positively ugly, she was not, I think, veryfar from it. She was dressed, however, in exquisite taste--and thenI had no doubt that she had captivated my friend's heart by the moreenduring graces of the intellect and soul. She said very few words, andpassed at once into her state-room with Mr. W.

  My old inquisitiveness now returned. There was no servant--that was asettled point. I looked, therefore, for the extra baggage. After somedelay, a cart arrived at the wharf, with an oblong pine box, which wasevery thing that seemed to be expected. Immediately upon its arrival wemade sail, and in a short time were safely over the bar and standing outto sea.

  The box in question was, as I say, oblong. It was about six feet inlength by two and a half in breadth; I observed it attentively, and liketo be precise. Now this shape was peculiar; and no sooner had I seenit, than I took credit to myself for the accuracy of my guessing. I hadreached the conclusion, it will be remembered, that the extra baggageof my friend, the artist, would prove to be pictures, or at least apicture; for I knew he had been for several weeks in conference withNicolino:--and now here was a box, which, from its shape, could possiblycontain nothing in the world but a copy of Leonardo's "Last Supper;"and a copy of this very "Last Supper," done by Rubini the younger,at Florence, I had known, for some time, to be in the possession ofNicolino. This point, therefore, I considered as sufficiently settled. Ichuckled excessively when I thought of my acumen. It was the first timeI had ever known Wyatt to keep from me any of his artistical secrets;but here he evidently intended to steal a march upon me, and smugglea fine picture to New York, under my very nose; expecting me to knownothing of the matter. I resolved to quiz him well, now and hereafter.

  One thing, however, annoyed me not a little. The box did not go into theextra state-room. It was deposited in Wyatt's own; and there, too, itremained, occupying very nearly the whole of the floor--no doubt tothe exceeding discomfort of the artist and his wife;--this the moreespecially as the tar or paint with which it was lettered in sprawlingcapitals, emitted a strong, disagreeable, and, to my fancy, a peculiarlydisgusting odor. On the lid were painted the words--"Mrs. AdelaideCurtis, Albany, New York. Charge of Cornelius Wyatt, Esq. This side up.To be handled with care."

  Now, I was aware that Mrs. Adelaide Curtis, of Albany, was theartist's wife's mother,--but then I looked upon the whole address asa mystification, intended especially for myself. I made up my mind, ofcourse, that the box and contents would never get farther north than thestudio of my misanthropic friend, in Chambers Street, New York.

  For the first three or four days we had fine weather, although the windwas dead ahead; having chopped round to the northward, immediately uponour losing sight of the coast. The passengers were, consequently, inhigh spirits and disposed to be social. I must except, however, Wyattand his sisters, who behaved stiffly, and, I could not help thinking,uncourteously to the rest of the party. Wyatt's conduct I did not somuch regard. He was gloomy, even beyond his usual habit--in fact he wasmorose--but in him I was prepared for eccentricity. For the sisters,however, I could make no excuse. They secluded themselves in theirstaterooms during the greater part of the passage, and absolutelyrefused, although I repeatedly urged them, to hold communication withany person on board.

  Mrs. Wyatt herself was far more agreeable. That is to say, she waschatty; and to be chatty is no slight recommendation at sea. She becameexcessively intimate with most of the ladies; and, to my prof
oundastonishment, evinced no equivocal disposition to coquet with the men.She amused us all very much. I say "amused"--and scarcely know how toexplain myself. The truth is, I soon found that Mrs. W. was far oftenerlaughed at than with. The gentlemen said little about her; but theladies, in a little while, pronounced her "a good-hearted thing, ratherindifferent looking, totally uneducated, and decidedly vulgar." Thegreat wonder was, how Wyatt had been entrapped into such a match. Wealthwas the general solution--but this I knew to be no solution at all;for Wyatt had told me that she neither brought him a dollar nor had anyexpectations from any source whatever. "He had married," he said, "forlove, and for love only; and his bride was far more than worthy of hislove." When I thought of these expressions, on the part of my friend, Iconfess that I felt indescribably puzzled. Could it be possible that hewas taking leave of his senses? What else could I think? He, so refined,so intellectual, so fastidious, with so exquisite a perception of thefaulty, and so keen an appreciation of the beautiful! To be sure, thelady seemed especially fond of him--particularly so in his absence--whenshe made herself ridiculous by frequent quotations of what had beensaid by her "beloved husband, Mr. Wyatt." The word "husband" seemedforever--to use one of her own delicate expressions--forever "on the tipof her tongue." In the meantime, it was observed by all on board, thathe avoided her in the most pointed manner, and, for the most part, shuthimself up alone in his state-room, where, in fact, he might have beensaid to live altogether, leaving his wife at full liberty to amuseherself as she thought best, in the public society of the main cabin.

  My conclusion, from what I saw and heard, was, that, the artist, by someunaccountable freak of fate, or perhaps in some fit of enthusiasticand fanciful passion, had been induced to unite himself with a personaltogether beneath him, and that the natural result, entire and speedydisgust, had ensued. I pitied him from the bottom of my heart--butcould not, for that reason, quite forgive his incommunicativeness in thematter of the "Last Supper." For this I resolved to have my revenge.

  One day he came upon deck, and, taking his arm as had been my wont, Isauntered with him backward and forward. His gloom, however (whichI considered quite natural under the circumstances), seemed entirelyunabated. He said little, and that moodily, and with evident effort. Iventured a jest or two, and he made a sickening attempt at a smile. Poorfellow!--as I thought of his wife, I wondered that he could have heartto put on even the semblance of mirth. I determined to commence a seriesof covert insinuations, or innuendoes, about the oblong box--just to lethim perceive, gradually, that I was not altogether the butt, or victim,of his little bit of pleasant mystification. My first observation wasby way of opening a masked battery. I said something about the "peculiarshape of that box-," and, as I spoke the words, I smiled knowingly,winked, and touched him gently with my forefinger in the ribs.

  The manner in which Wyatt received this harmless pleasantry convincedme, at once, that he was mad. At first he stared at me as if he foundit impossible to comprehend the witticism of my remark; but as its pointseemed slowly to make its way into his brain, his eyes, in the sameproportion, seemed protruding from their sockets. Then he grew veryred--then hideously pale--then, as if highly amused with what Ihad insinuated, he began a loud and boisterous laugh, which, to myastonishment, he kept up, with gradually increasing vigor, for tenminutes or more. In conclusion, he fell flat and heavily upon the deck.When I ran to uplift him, to all appearance he was dead.

  I called assistance, and, with much difficulty, we brought him tohimself. Upon reviving he spoke incoherently for some time. At length webled him and put him to bed. The next morning he was quite recovered,so far as regarded his mere bodily health. Of his mind I say nothing, ofcourse. I avoided him during the rest of the passage, by advice of thecaptain, who seemed to coincide with me altogether in my views of hisinsanity, but cautioned me to say nothing on this head to any person onboard.

  Several circumstances occurred immediately after this fit of Wyattwhich contributed to heighten the curiosity with which I was alreadypossessed. Among other things, this: I had been nervous--drank too muchstrong green tea, and slept ill at night--in fact, for two nights Icould not be properly said to sleep at all. Now, my state-room openedinto the main cabin, or dining-room, as did those of all the singlemen on board. Wyatt's three rooms were in the after-cabin, which wasseparated from the main one by a slight sliding door, never locked evenat night. As we were almost constantly on a wind, and the breeze wasnot a little stiff, the ship heeled to leeward very considerably; andwhenever her starboard side was to leeward, the sliding door between thecabins slid open, and so remained, nobody taking the trouble to getup and shut it. But my berth was in such a position, that when my ownstate-room door was open, as well as the sliding door in question (andmy own door was always open on account of the heat,) I could see intothe after-cabin quite distinctly, and just at that portion of it, too,where were situated the state-rooms of Mr. Wyatt. Well, during twonights (not consecutive) while I lay awake, I clearly saw Mrs. W., abouteleven o'clock upon each night, steal cautiously from the state-roomof Mr. W., and enter the extra room, where she remained until daybreak,when she was called by her husband and went back. That they werevirtually separated was clear. They had separate apartments--no doubt incontemplation of a more permanent divorce; and here, after all I thoughtwas the mystery of the extra state-room.

  There was another circumstance, too, which interested me much.During the two wakeful nights in question, and immediately after thedisappearance of Mrs. Wyatt into the extra state-room, I was attractedby certain singular cautious, subdued noises in that of her husband.After listening to them for some time, with thoughtful attention, I atlength succeeded perfectly in translating their import. They were soundsoccasioned by the artist in prying open the oblong box, by means of achisel and mallet--the latter being apparently muffled, or deadened, bysome soft woollen or cotton substance in which its head was enveloped.

  In this manner I fancied I could distinguish the precise moment when hefairly disengaged the lid--also, that I could determine when he removedit altogether, and when he deposited it upon the lower berth in hisroom; this latter point I knew, for example, by certain slight tapswhich the lid made in striking against the wooden edges of the berth, ashe endeavored to lay it down very gently--there being no room for it onthe floor. After this there was a dead stillness, and I heard nothingmore, upon either occasion, until nearly daybreak; unless, perhaps, Imay mention a low sobbing, or murmuring sound, so very much suppressedas to be nearly inaudible--if, indeed, the whole of this latter noisewere not rather produced by my own imagination. I say it seemed toresemble sobbing or sighing--but, of course, it could not have beeneither. I rather think it was a ringing in my own ears. Mr. Wyatt, nodoubt, according to custom, was merely giving the rein to one of hishobbies--indulging in one of his fits of artistic enthusiasm. He hadopened his oblong box, in order to feast his eyes on the pictorialtreasure within. There was nothing in this, however, to make him sob.I repeat, therefore, that it must have been simply a freak of my ownfancy, distempered by good Captain Hardy's green tea. Just before dawn,on each of the two nights of which I speak, I distinctly heard Mr. Wyattreplace the lid upon the oblong box, and force the nails into their oldplaces by means of the muffled mallet. Having done this, he issued fromhis state-room, fully dressed, and proceeded to call Mrs. W. from hers.

  We had been at sea seven days, and were now off Cape Hatteras, whenthere came a tremendously heavy blow from the southwest. We were, in ameasure, prepared for it, however, as the weather had been holding outthreats for some time. Every thing was made snug, alow and aloft; andas the wind steadily freshened, we lay to, at length, under spanker andforetopsail, both double-reefed.

  In this trim we rode safely enough for forty-eight hours--the shipproving herself an excellent sea-boat in many respects, and shipping nowater of any consequence. At the end of this period, however, the galehad freshened into a hurricane, and our after--sail split into ribbons,bringing us so much in the trough of
the water that we shipped severalprodigious seas, one immediately after the other. By this accident welost three men overboard with the caboose, and nearly the whole of thelarboard bulwarks. Scarcely had we recovered our senses, before theforetopsail went into shreds, when we got up a storm stay--sail and withthis did pretty well for some hours, the ship heading the sea much moresteadily than before.

  The gale still held on, however, and we saw no signs of its abating.The rigging was found to be ill-fitted, and greatly strained; and on thethird day of the blow, about five in the afternoon, our mizzen-mast, ina heavy lurch to windward, went by the board. For an hour or more, wetried in vain to get rid of it, on account of the prodigious rollingof the ship; and, before we had succeeded, the carpenter came aft andannounced four feet of water in the hold. To add to our dilemma, wefound the pumps choked and nearly useless.

  All was now confusion and despair--but an effort was made to lighten theship by throwing overboard as much of her cargo as could be reached,and by cutting away the two masts that remained. This we at lastaccomplished--but we were still unable to do any thing at the pumps;and, in the meantime, the leak gained on us very fast.

  At sundown, the gale had sensibly diminished in violence, and as the seawent down with it, we still entertained faint hopes of saving ourselvesin the boats. At eight P. M., the clouds broke away to windward, and wehad the advantage of a full moon--a piece of good fortune which servedwonderfully to cheer our drooping spirits.

  After incredible labor we succeeded, at length, in getting the longboatover the side without material accident, and into this we crowdedthe whole of the crew and most of the passengers. This party made offimmediately, and, after undergoing much suffering, finally arrived, insafety, at Ocracoke Inlet, on the third day after the wreck.

  Fourteen passengers, with the captain, remained on board, resolvingto trust their fortunes to the jolly-boat at the stern. We lowered itwithout difficulty, although it was only by a miracle that we preventedit from swamping as it touched the water. It contained, when afloat, thecaptain and his wife, Mr. Wyatt and party, a Mexican officer, wife, fourchildren, and myself, with a negro valet.

  We had no room, of course, for any thing except a few positivelynecessary instruments, some provisions, and the clothes upon our backs.No one had thought of even attempting to save any thing more. What musthave been the astonishment of all, then, when having proceeded a fewfathoms from the ship, Mr. Wyatt stood up in the stern-sheets, andcoolly demanded of Captain Hardy that the boat should be put back forthe purpose of taking in his oblong box!

  "Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the captain, somewhat sternly, "you willcapsize us if you do not sit quite still. Our gunwhale is almost in thewater now."

  "The box!" vociferated Mr. Wyatt, still standing--"the box, I say!Captain Hardy, you cannot, you will not refuse me. Its weight willbe but a trifle--it is nothing--mere nothing. By the mother who boreyou--for the love of Heaven--by your hope of salvation, I implore you toput back for the box!"

  The captain, for a moment, seemed touched by the earnest appeal of theartist, but he regained his stern composure, and merely said:

  "Mr. Wyatt, you are mad. I cannot listen to you. Sit down, I say, or youwill swamp the boat. Stay--hold him--seize him!--he is about to springoverboard! There--I knew it--he is over!"

  As the captain said this, Mr. Wyatt, in fact, sprang from the boat, and,as we were yet in the lee of the wreck, succeeded, by almost superhumanexertion, in getting hold of a rope which hung from the fore-chains. Inanother moment he was on board, and rushing frantically down into thecabin.

  In the meantime, we had been swept astern of the ship, and being quiteout of her lee, were at the mercy of the tremendous sea which was stillrunning. We made a determined effort to put back, but our little boatwas like a feather in the breath of the tempest. We saw at a glance thatthe doom of the unfortunate artist was sealed.

  As our distance from the wreck rapidly increased, the madman (foras such only could we regard him) was seen to emerge from thecompanion--way, up which by dint of strength that appeared gigantic,he dragged, bodily, the oblong box. While we gazed in the extremity ofastonishment, he passed, rapidly, several turns of a three-inch rope,first around the box and then around his body. In another instantboth body and box were in the sea--disappearing suddenly, at once andforever.

  We lingered awhile sadly upon our oars, with our eyes riveted upon thespot. At length we pulled away. The silence remained unbroken for anhour. Finally, I hazarded a remark.

  "Did you observe, captain, how suddenly they sank? Was not that anexceedingly singular thing? I confess that I entertained some feeblehope of his final deliverance, when I saw him lash himself to the box,and commit himself to the sea."

  "They sank as a matter of course," replied the captain, "and that like ashot. They will soon rise again, however--but not till the salt melts."

  "The salt!" I ejaculated.

  "Hush!" said the captain, pointing to the wife and sisters of thedeceased. "We must talk of these things at some more appropriate time."

  We suffered much, and made a narrow escape, but fortune befriended us,as well as our mates in the long-boat. We landed, in fine, more deadthan alive, after four days of intense distress, upon the beach oppositeRoanoke Island. We remained here a week, were not ill-treated by thewreckers, and at length obtained a passage to New York.

  About a month after the loss of the "Independence," I happened to meetCaptain Hardy in Broadway. Our conversation turned, naturally, upon thedisaster, and especially upon the sad fate of poor Wyatt. I thus learnedthe following particulars.

  The artist had engaged passage for himself, wife, two sisters and aservant. His wife was, indeed, as she had been represented, a mostlovely, and most accomplished woman. On the morning of the fourteenthof June (the day in which I first visited the ship), the lady suddenlysickened and died. The young husband was frantic with grief--butcircumstances imperatively forbade the deferring his voyage to New York.It was necessary to take to her mother the corpse of his adored wife,and, on the other hand, the universal prejudice which would prevent hisdoing so openly was well known. Nine-tenths of the passengers would haveabandoned the ship rather than take passage with a dead body.

  In this dilemma, Captain Hardy arranged that the corpse, being firstpartially embalmed, and packed, with a large quantity of salt, in abox of suitable dimensions, should be conveyed on board as merchandise.Nothing was to be said of the lady's decease; and, as it was wellunderstood that Mr. Wyatt had engaged passage for his wife, it becamenecessary that some person should personate her during the voyage.This the deceased lady's-maid was easily prevailed on to do. The extrastate-room, originally engaged for this girl during her mistress' life,was now merely retained. In this state-room the pseudo-wife, slept, ofcourse, every night. In the daytime she performed, to the best of herability, the part of her mistress--whose person, it had been carefullyascertained, was unknown to any of the passengers on board.

  My own mistake arose, naturally enough, through too careless, tooinquisitive, and too impulsive a temperament. But of late, it is a rarething that I sleep soundly at night. There is a countenance which hauntsme, turn as I will. There is an hysterical laugh which will forever ringwithin my ears.