The Dream.
Dreams! What age, or what country of the world, has not felt andacknowledged the mystery of their origin and end? I have thought not alittle upon the subject, seeing it is one which has been often forcedupon my attention, and sometimes strangely enough; and yet I have neverarrived at anything which at all appeared a satisfactory conclusion. Itdoes appear that a mental phenomenon so extraordinary cannot be whollywithout its use. We know, indeed, that in the olden times it has beenmade the organ of communication between the Deity and His creatures;and when a dream produces upon a mind, to all appearance hopelesslyreprobate and depraved, an effect so powerful and so lasting as to breakdown the inveterate habits, and to reform the life of an abandonedsinner, we see in the result, in the reformation of morals whichappeared incorrigible, in the reclamation of a human soul which seemedto be irretrievably lost, something more than could be produced by amere chimera of the slumbering fancy, something more than could arisefrom the capricious images of a terrified imagination. And while Reasonrejects as absurd the superstition which will read a prophecy in everydream, she may, without violence to herself, recognize, even in thewildest and most incongruous of the wanderings of a slumberingintellect, the evidences and the fragments of a language which may bespoken, which _has_ been spoken, to terrify, to warn and to command. Wehave reason to believe too, by the promptness of action which in theage of the prophets followed all intimations of this kind, and by thestrength of conviction and strange permanence of the effects resultingfrom certain dreams in latter times--which effects we ourselves may havewitnessed--that when this medium of communication has been employedby the Deity, the evidences of His presence have been unequivocal. Mythoughts were directed to this subject in a manner to leave a lastingimpression upon my mind, by the events which I shall now relate, thestatement of which, however extraordinary, is nevertheless accurate.
About the year 17--, having been appointed to the living of C----h, Irented a small house in the town which bears the same name: one morningin the month of November, I was awakened before my usual time by myservant, who bustled into my bedroom for the purpose of announcing asick call. As the Catholic Church holds her last rites to be totallyindispensable to the safety of the departing sinner, no conscientiousclergyman can afford a moment's unnecessary delay, and in little morethan five minutes I stood ready, cloaked and booted for the road, in thesmall front parlour in which the messenger, who was to act as my guide,awaited my coming. I found a poor little girl crying piteously near thedoor, and after some slight difficulty I ascertained that her father waseither dead or just dying.
"And what may be your father's name, my poor child?" said I. She helddown her head as if ashamed. I repeated the question, and the wretchedlittle creature burst into floods of tears still more bitter than shehad shed before. At length, almost angered by conduct which appeared tome so unreasonable, I began to lose patience, and I said ratherharshly,--
"If you will not tell me the name of the person to whom you would leadme, your silence can arise from no good motive, and I might be justifiedin refusing to go with you at all."
"Oh, don't say that--don't say that!" cried she. "Oh, sir, it was thatI was afeard of when I would not tell you--I was afeard, when you heardhis name, you would not come with me; but it is no use hidin' itnow--it's Pat Connell, the carpenter, your honour."
She looked in my face with the most earnest anxiety, as if her veryexistence depended upon what she should read there. I relieved the childat once. The name, indeed, was most unpleasantly familiar to me; but,however fruitless my visits and advice might have been at another time,the present was too fearful an occasion to suffer my doubts of theirutility, or my reluctance to re-attempting what appeared a hopelesstask, to weigh even against the lightest chance that a consciousness ofhis imminent danger might produce in him a more docile and tractabledisposition. Accordingly I told the child to lead the way, and followedher in silence. She hurried rapidly through the long narrow street whichforms the great thoroughfare of the town. The darkness of the hour,rendered still deeper by the close approach of the old-fashioned houses,which lowered in tall obscurity on either side of the way; the damp,dreary chill which renders the advance of morning peculiarly cheerless,combined with the object of my walk--to visit the death-bed of apresumptuous sinner, to endeavour, almost against my own conviction,to infuse a hope into the heart of a dying reprobate--a drunkard buttoo probably perishing under the consequences of some mad fit ofintoxication; all these circumstances served to enhance the gloom andsolemnity of my feelings, as I silently followed my little guide, whowith quick steps traversed the uneven pavement of the Main Street. Aftera walk of about five minutes, she turned off into a narrow lane, of thatobscure and comfortless class which is to be found in almost all smallold-fashioned towns, chill, without ventilation, reeking with all mannerof offensive effluviae, and lined by dingy, smoky, sickly and pent-upbuildings, frequently not only in a wretched but in a dangerouscondition.
"Your father has changed his abode since I last visited him, and, I amafraid, much for the worse," said I.
"Indeed he has, sir; but we must not complain," replied she. "We have tothank God that we have lodging and food, though it's poor enough, it is,your honour."
Poor child! thought I. How many an older head might learn wisdom fromthee--how many a luxurious philosopher, who is skilled to preach but notto suffer, might not thy patient words put to the blush! The manner andlanguage of my companion were alike above her years and station; and,indeed, in all cases in which the cares and sorrows of life haveanticipated their usual date, and have fallen, as they sometimes do,with melancholy prematurity to the lot of childhood, I have observed theresult to have proved uniformly the same. A young mind, to which joy andindulgence have been strangers, and to which suffering and self-denialhave been familiarized from the first, acquires a solidity and anelevation which no other discipline could have bestowed, and which, inthe present case, communicated a striking but mournful peculiarity tothe manners, even to the voice, of the child. We paused before a narrow,crazy door, which she opened by means of a latch, and we forthwith beganto ascend the steep and broken stairs which led to the sick man's room.
As we mounted flight after flight towards the garret-floor, I heard moreand more distinctly the hurried talking of many voices. I could alsodistinguish the low sobbing of a female. On arriving upon the uppermostlobby, these sounds became fully audible.
"This way, your honour," said my little conductress; at the same time,pushing open a door of patched and half-rotten plank, she admitted meinto the squalid chamber of death and misery. But one candle, held inthe fingers of a scared and haggard-looking child, was burning in theroom, and that so dim that all was twilight or darkness except withinits immediate influence. The general obscurity, however, served to throwinto prominent and startling relief the death-bed and its occupant. Thelight fell with horrible clearness upon the blue and swollen features ofthe drunkard. I did not think it possible that a human countenance couldlook so terrific. The lips were black and drawn apart; the teeth werefirmly set; the eyes a little unclosed, and nothing but the whitesappearing. Every feature was fixed and livid, and the whole face wore aghastly and rigid expression of despairing terror such as I never sawequalled. His hands were crossed upon his breast, and firmly clenched;while, as if to add to the corpse-like effect of the whole, some whitecloths, dipped in water, were wound about the forehead and temples.
As soon as I could remove my eyes from this horrible spectacle, Iobserved my friend Dr. D----, one of the most humane of a humaneprofession, standing by the bedside. He had been attempting, butunsuccessfully, to bleed the patient, and had now applied his finger tothe pulse.
"Is there any hope?" I inquired in a whisper.
A shake of the head was the reply. There was a pause, while he continuedto hold the wrist; but he waited in vain for the throb of life--it wasnot there: and when he let go the hand, it fell stiffly back into itsformer position upon the other.
"The man is dead," said the physician, as he turned from the bed wherethe terrible figure lay.
Dead! thought I, scarcely venturing to look upon the tremendous andrevolting spectacle. Dead! without an hour for repentance, even a momentfor reflection. Dead! without the rites which even the best should have.Was there a hope for him? The glaring eyeball, the grinning mouth, thedistorted brow--that unutterable look in which a painter would havesought to embody the fixed despair of the nethermost hell--These were myanswer.
The poor wife sat at a little distance, crying as if her heart wouldbreak--the younger children clustered round the bed, looking withwondering curiosity upon the form of death, never seen before.
When the first tumult of uncontrollable sorrow had passed away, availingmyself of the solemnity and impressiveness of the scene, I desired theheart-stricken family to accompany me in prayer, and all knelt downwhile I solemnly and fervently repeated some of those prayers whichappeared most applicable to the occasion. I employed myself thus in amanner which I trusted was not unprofitable, at least to the living, forabout ten minutes; and having accomplished my task, I was the first toarise.
I looked upon the poor, sobbing, helpless creatures who knelt so humblyaround me, and my heart bled for them. With a natural transition Iturned my eyes from them to the bed in which the body lay; and, greatGod! what was the revulsion, the horror which I experienced on seeingthe corpse-like, terrific thing seated half upright before me. The whitecloths which had been wound about the head had now partly slipped fromtheir position, and were hanging in grotesque festoons about the faceand shoulders, while the distorted eyes leered from amid them--
"A sight to dream of, not to tell."
I stood actually riveted to the spot. The figure nodded its head andlifted its arm, I thought, with a menacing gesture. A thousand confusedand horrible thoughts at once rushed upon my mind. I had often readthat the body of a presumptuous sinner, who, during life, had been thewilling creature of every satanic impulse, had been known, after thehuman tenant had deserted it, to become the horrible sport of demoniacpossession.
I was roused by the piercing scream of the mother, who now, for thefirst time, perceived the change which had taken place. She rushedtowards the bed, but, stunned by the shock and overcome by the conflictof violent emotions, before she reached it she fell prostrate upon thefloor.
I am perfectly convinced that had I not been startled from the torpidityof horror in which I was bound by some powerful and arousing stimulant,I should have gazed upon this unearthly apparition until I had fairlylost my senses. As it was, however, the spell was broken--superstitiongave way to reason: the man whom all believed to have been actually deadwas living!
Dr. D---- was instantly standing by the bedside, and upon examination hefound that a sudden and copious flow of blood had taken place from thewound which the lancet had left; and this, no doubt, had effected hissudden and almost preternatural restoration to an existence from whichall thought he had been for ever removed. The man was still speechless,but he seemed to understand the physician when he forbade his repeatingthe painful and fruitless attempts which he made to articulate, and heat once resigned himself quietly into his hands.
I left the patient with leeches upon his temples, and bleeding freely,apparently with little of the drowsiness which accompanies apoplexy.Indeed, Dr. D---- told me that he had never before witnessed a seizurewhich seemed to combine the symptoms of so many kinds, and yet whichbelonged to none of the recognized classes; it certainly was notapoplexy, catalepsy, nor _delirium tremens_, and yet it seemed, in somedegree, to partake of the properties of all. It was strange, butstranger things are coming.
During two or three days Dr. D---- would not allow his patient toconverse in a manner which could excite or exhaust him, with anyone; hesuffered him merely as briefly as possible to express his immediatewants. And it was not until the fourth day after my early visit, theparticulars of which I have just detailed, that it was thought expedientthat I should see him, and then only because it appeared that hisextreme importunity and impatience to meet me were likely to retardhis recovery more than the mere exhaustion attendant upon a shortconversation could possibly do. Perhaps, too, my friend entertained somehope that if by holy confession his patient's bosom were eased of theperilous stuff which no doubt oppressed it, his recovery would be moreassured and rapid. It was then, as I have said, upon the fourth dayafter my first professional call, that I found myself once more in thedreary chamber of want and sickness.
The man was in bed, and appeared low and restless. On my entering theroom he raised himself in the bed, and muttered, twice or thrice,--
"Thank God! thank God!"
I signed to those of his family who stood by to leave the room, and tooka chair beside the bed. So soon as we were alone, he said, ratherdoggedly,--
"There's no use in telling me of the sinfulness of bad ways--I know itall. I know where they lead to--I have seen everything about it with myown eyesight, as plain as I see you." He rolled himself in the bed, asif to hide his face in the clothes; and then suddenly raising himself,he exclaimed with startling vehemence, "Look, sir! there is no use inmincing the matter: I'm blasted with the fires of hell; I have been inhell. What do you think of that? In hell--I'm lost for ever--I have nota chance. I am damned already--damned--damned!"
The end of this sentence he actually shouted. His vehemence wasperfectly terrific; he threw himself back, and laughed, and sobbedhysterically. I poured some water into a tea-cup, and gave it to him.After he had swallowed it, I told him if he had anything to communicate,to do so as briefly as he could, and in a manner as little agitating tohimself as possible; threatening at the same time, though I had nointention of doing so, to leave him at once in case he again gave way tosuch passionate excitement.
"It's only foolishness," he continued, "for me to try to thank you forcoming to such a villain as myself at all. It's no use for me to wishgood to you, or to bless you; for such as me has no blessings to give."
I told him that I had but done my duty, and urged him to proceed to thematter which weighed upon his mind. He then spoke nearly as follows:--
"I came in drunk on Friday night last, and got to my bed here; I don'tremember how. Sometime in the night it seemed to me I wakened, andfeeling unasy in myself, I got up out of the bed. I wanted the freshair; but I would not make a noise to open the window, for fear I'd wakenthe crathurs. It was very dark and throublesome to find the door; but atlast I did get it, and I groped my way out, and went down as asy as Icould. I felt quite sober, and I counted the steps one after another, asI was going down, that I might not stumble at the bottom.
"When I came to the first landing-place--God be about us always!--thefloor of it sunk under me, and I went down--down--down, till the sensesalmost left me. I do not know how long I was falling, but it seemed tome a great while. When I came rightly to myself at last, I was sittingnear the top of a great table; and I could not see the end of it, if ithad any, it was so far off. And there was men beyond reckoning sittingdown all along by it, at each side, as far as I could see at all. I didnot know at first was it in the open air; but there was a closesmothering feel in it that was not natural. And there was a kind oflight that my eyesight never saw before, red and unsteady; and I did notsee for a long time where it was coming from, until I looked straightup, and then I seen that it came from great balls of blood-coloured firethat were rolling high overhead with a sort of rushing, trembling sound,and I perceived that they shone on the ribs of a great roof of rockthat was arched overhead instead of the sky. When I seen this, scarceknowing what I did, I got up, and I said, 'I have no right to be here; Imust go.' And the man that was sitting at my left hand only smiled, andsaid, 'Sit down again; you can _never_ leave this place.' And his voicewas weaker than any child's voice I ever heerd; and when he was donespeaking he smiled again.
"Then I spoke out very loud and bold, and I said, 'In the name of God,let me out of this bad place.' And there was a great man that I did not
see before, sitting at the end of the table that I was near; and he wastaller than twelve men, and his face was very proud and terrible to lookat. And he stood up and stretched out his hand before him; and when hestood up, all that was there, great and small, bowed down with a sighingsound; and a dread came on my heart, and he looked at me, and I couldnot speak. I felt I was his own, to do what he liked with, for I knew atonce who he was; and he said, 'If you promise to return, you may departfor a season;' and the voice he spoke with was terrible and mournful,and the echoes of it went rolling and swelling down the endless cave,and mixing with the trembling of the fire overhead; so that when he satdown there was a sound after him, all through the place, like theroaring of a furnace. And I said, with all the strength I had, 'Ipromise to come back--in God's name let me go!'
"And with that I lost the sight and the hearing of all that was there,and when my senses came to me again, I was sitting in the bed with theblood all over me, and you and the rest praying around the room."
Here he paused, and wiped away the chill drops which hung upon hisforehead.
I remained silent for some moments. The vision which he had justdescribed struck my imagination not a little, for this was long beforeVathek and the "Hall of Eblis" had delighted the world; and thedescription which he gave had, as I received it, all the attractions ofnovelty beside the impressiveness which always belongs to the narrationof an _eye-witness_, whether in the body or in the spirit, of the sceneswhich he describes. There was something, too, in the stern horror withwhich the man related these things, and in the incongruity of hisdescription with the vulgarly received notions of the great place ofpunishment, and of its presiding spirit, which struck my mind with awe,almost with fear. At length he said, with an expression of horrible,imploring earnestness, which I shall never forget,--
"Well, sir, is there any hope; is there any chance at all? or is my soulpledged and promised away for ever? is it gone out of my power? must Igo back to the place?"
In answering him, I had no easy task to perform; for however clearmight be my internal conviction of the groundlessness of his fears, andhowever strong my scepticism respecting the reality of what he haddescribed, I nevertheless felt that his impression to the contrary, andhis humility and terror resulting from it, might be made available as nomean engines in the work of his conversion from profligacy, and of hisrestoration to decent habits and to religious feeling.
I therefore told him that he was to regard his dream rather in the lightof a warning than in that of a prophecy; that our salvation depended notupon the word or deed of a moment, but upon the habits of a life; that,in fine, if he at once discarded his idle companions and evil habits,and firmly adhered to a sober, industrious, and religious course oflife, the powers of darkness might claim his soul in vain, for thatthere were higher and firmer pledges than human tongue could utter,which promised salvation to him who should repent and lead a new life.
I left him much comforted, and with a promise to return upon the nextday. I did so, and found him much more cheerful, and without any remainsof the dogged sullenness which I suppose had arisen from his despair.His promises of amendment were given in that tone of deliberateearnestness which belongs to deep and solemn determination; and it waswith no small delight that I observed, after repeated visits, that hisgood resolutions, so far from failing, did but gather strength by time;and when I saw that man shake off the idle and debauched companionswhose society had for years formed alike his amusement and his ruin, andrevive his long-discarded habits of industry and sobriety, I said withinmyself, There is something more in all this than the operation of anidle dream.
One day, some time after his perfect restoration to health, I wassurprised, on ascending the stairs for the purpose of visiting thisman, to find him busily employed in nailing down some planks upon thelanding-place, through which, at the commencement of his mysteriousvision, it seemed to him that he had sunk. I perceived at once that hewas strengthening the floor with a view to securing himself against sucha catastrophe, and could scarcely forbear a smile as I bid "God blesshis work."
He perceived my thoughts, I suppose, for he immediately said:
"I can never pass over that floor without trembling. I'd leave thishouse if I could, but I can't find another lodging in the town so cheap,and I'll not take a better till I've paid off all my debts, please God;but I could not be asy in my mind till I made it as safe as I could.You'll hardly believe me, your honour, that while I'm working, maybe amile away, my heart is in a flutter the whole way back, with the barethoughts of the two little steps I have to walk upon this bit of afloor. So it's no wonder, sir, I'd thry to make it sound and firm withany idle timber I have."
I applauded his resolution to pay off his debts, and the steadiness withwhich he perused his plans of conscientious economy, and passed on.
Many months elapsed, and still there appeared no alteration in hisresolutions of amendment. He was a good workman, and with his betterhabits he recovered his former extensive and profitable employment.Everything seemed to promise comfort and respectability. I have littlemore to add, and that shall be told quickly. I had one evening met PatConnell, as he returned from his work, and as usual, after a mutual, andon his side respectful salutation, I spoke a few words of encouragementand approval. I left him industrious, active, healthy--when next I sawhim, not three days after, he was a corpse.
The circumstances which marked the event of his death were somewhatstrange--I might say fearful. The unfortunate man had accidentally metan old friend just returned, after a long absence; and in a moment ofexcitement, forgetting everything in the warmth of his joy, he yieldedto his urgent invitation to accompany him into a public house, which layclose by the spot where the encounter had taken place. Connell, however,previously to entering the room, had announced his determination to takenothing more than the strictest temperance would warrant.
But oh! who can describe the inveterate tenacity with which a drunkard'shabits cling to him through life? He may repent, he may reform, he maylook with actual abhorrence upon his past profligacy; but amid all thisreformation and compunction, who can tell the moment in which the baseand ruinous propensity may not recur, triumphing over resolution,remorse, shame, everything, and prostrating its victim once more in allthat is destructive and revolting in that fatal vice?
The wretched man left the place in a state of utter intoxication. He wasbrought home nearly insensible, and placed in his bed. The younger partof the family retired to rest much after their usual hour; but the poorwife remained up sitting by the fire, too much grieved and shocked atthe occurrence of what she had so little expected, to settle to rest.Fatigue, however, at length overcame her, and she sank gradually into anuneasy slumber. She could not tell how long she had remained in thisstate; but when she awakened, and immediately on opening her eyes, sheperceived by the faint red light of the smouldering turf embers, twopersons, one of whom she recognized as her husband, noiselessly glidingout of the room.
"Pat, darling, where are you going?" said she.
There was no answer--the door closed after them; but in a moment she wasstartled and terrified by a loud and heavy crash, as if some ponderousbody had been hurled down the stair.
NOISELESSLY GLIDING OUT OF THE ROOM.]
Much alarmed, she started up, and going to the head of the staircase,she called repeatedly upon her husband, but in vain.
She returned to the room, and with the assistance of her daughter, whomI had occasion to mention before, she succeeded in finding and lightinga candle, with which she hurried again to the head of the staircase.
At the bottom lay what seemed to be a bundle of clothes, heapedtogether, motionless, lifeless--it was her husband. In going downthe stairs, for what purpose can never now be known, he had fallenhelplessly and violently to the bottom, and coming head foremost, thespine of the neck had been dislocated by the shock, and instant deathmust have ensued.
The body lay upon that landing-place to which his dream had referred.
&nbs
p; It is scarcely worth endeavouring to clear up a single point in anarrative where all is mystery; yet I could not help suspecting that thesecond figure which had been seen in the room by Connell's wife on thenight of his death might have been no other than his own shadow.
I suggested this solution of the difficulty; but she told me that theunknown person had been considerably in advance of her husband, and onreaching the door, had turned back as if to communicate something to hiscompanion.
It was, then, a mystery.
AT THE FOOT OF THE STAIRS.]
Was the dream verified?--whither had the disembodied spirit sped? whocan say? We know not. But I left the house of death that day in a stateof horror which I could not describe. It seemed to me that I was scarceawake. I heard and saw everything as if under the spell of a nightmare.The coincidence was terrible.
The Watcher, and other weird stories Page 7
