Book: Wieland; or The Transformation, An American Tale

C >> Charles Brockden Brown >> Wieland; or The Transformation, An American Tale




He was seated on the floor, his back rested against the wall,
his knees were drawn up, and his face was buried in his hands.
That his station was at some distance, that his attitude was not
menacing, that his ominous visage was concealed, may account for
my now escaping a shock, violent as those which were past. I
withdrew my eyes, but was not again deserted by my senses.

On perceiving that I had recovered my sensibility, he lifted
his head. This motion attracted my attention. His countenance
was mild, but sorrow and astonishment sat upon his features. I
averted my eyes and feebly exclaimed--"O! fly--fly far and for
ever!--I cannot behold you and live!"

He did not rise upon his feet, but clasped his hands, and
said in a tone of deprecation--"I will fly. I am become a
fiend, the sight of whom destroys. Yet tell me my offence! You
have linked curses with my name; you ascribe to me a malice
monstrous and infernal. I look around; all is loneliness and
desert! This house and your brother's are solitary and
dismantled! You die away at the sight of me! My fear whispers
that some deed of horror has been perpetrated; that I am the
undesigning cause."

What language was this? Had he not avowed himself a
ravisher? Had not this chamber witnessed his atrocious
purposes? I besought him with new vehemence to go.

He lifted his eyes--"Great heaven! what have I done? I think
I know the extent of my offences. I have acted, but my actions
have possibly effected more than I designed. This fear has
brought me back from my retreat. I come to repair the evil of
which my rashness was the cause, and to prevent more evil. I
come to confess my errors."

"Wretch!" I cried when my suffocating emotions would permit
me to speak, "the ghosts of my sister and her children, do they
not rise to accuse thee? Who was it that blasted the intellects
of Wieland? Who was it that urged him to fury, and guided him
to murder? Who, but thou and the devil, with whom thou art
confederated?"

At these words a new spirit pervaded his countenance. His
eyes once more appealed to heaven. "If I have memory, if I have
being, I am innocent. I intended no ill; but my folly,
indirectly and remotely, may have caused it; but what words are
these! Your brother lunatic! His children dead!"

What should I infer from this deportment? Was the ignorance
which these words implied real or pretended?--Yet how could I
imagine a mere human agency in these events? But if the
influence was preternatural or maniacal in my brother's case,
they must be equally so in my own. Then I remembered that the
voice exerted, was to save me from Carwin's attempts. These
ideas tended to abate my abhorrence of this man, and to detect
the absurdity of my accusations.

"Alas!" said I, "I have no one to accuse. Leave me to my
fate. Fly from a scene stained with cruelty; devoted to
despair."

Carwin stood for a time musing and mournful. At length he
said, "What has happened? I came to expiate my crimes: let me
know them in their full extent. I have horrible forebodings!
What has happened?"

I was silent; but recollecting the intimation given by this
man when he was detected in my closet, which implied some
knowledge of that power which interfered in my favor, I eagerly
inquired, "What was that voice which called upon me to hold when
I attempted to open the closet? What face was that which I saw
at the bottom of the stairs? Answer me truly."

"I came to confess the truth. Your allusions are horrible
and strange. Perhaps I have but faint conceptions of the evils
which my infatuation has produced; but what remains I will
perform. It was my VOICE that you heard! It was my
FACE that you saw!"

For a moment I doubted whether my remembrance of events were
not confused. How could he be at once stationed at my shoulder
and shut up in my closet? How could he stand near me and yet be
invisible? But if Carwin's were the thrilling voice and the
fiery visage which I had heard and seen, then was he the
prompter of my brother, and the author of these dismal outrages.

Once more I averted my eyes and struggled for speech.
"Begone! thou man of mischief! Remorseless and implacable
miscreant! begone!"

"I will obey," said he in a disconsolate voice; "yet, wretch
as I am, am I unworthy to repair the evils that I have
committed? I came as a repentant criminal. It is you whom I
have injured, and at your bar am I willing to appear, and
confess and expiate my crimes. I have deceived you: I have
sported with your terrors: I have plotted to destroy your
reputation. I come now to remove your errors; to set you beyond
the reach of similar fears; to rebuild your fame as far as I am
able.

"This is the amount of my guilt, and this the fruit of my
remorse. Will you not hear me? Listen to my confession, and
then denounce punishment. All I ask is a patient audience."

"What!" I replied, "was not thine the voice that commanded my
brother to imbrue his hands in the blood of his children--to
strangle that angel of sweetness his wife? Has he not vowed my
death, and the death of Pleyel, at thy bidding? Hast thou not
made him the butcher of his family; changed him who was the
glory of his species into worse than brute; robbed him of
reason, and consigned the rest of his days to fetters and
stripes?"

Carwin's eyes glared, and his limbs were petrified at this
intelligence. No words were requisite to prove him guiltless of
these enormities: at the time, however, I was nearly insensible
to these exculpatory tokens. He walked to the farther end of
the room, and having recovered some degree of composure, he
spoke--

"I am not this villain; I have slain no one; I have prompted
none to slay; I have handled a tool of wonderful efficacy
without malignant intentions, but without caution; ample will be
the punishment of my temerity, if my conduct has contributed to
this evil." He paused.--

I likewise was silent. I struggled to command myself so far
as to listen to the tale which he should tell. Observing this,
he continued--

"You are not apprized of the existence of a power which I
possess. I know not by what name to call it.* It enables me to
mimic exactly the voice of another, and to modify the sound so
that it shall appear to come from what quarter, and be uttered
at what distance I please.

"I know not that every one possesses this power. Perhaps,
though a casual position of my organs in my youth shewed me that
I possessed it, it is an art which may be taught to all. Would
to God I had died unknowing of the secret! It has produced
nothing but degradation and calamity.

"For a time the possession of so potent and stupendous an
endowment elated me with pride. Unfortified by principle,
subjected to poverty, stimulated by headlong passions, I made
this powerful engine subservient to the supply of my wants, and
the gratification of my vanity. I shall not mention how
diligently I cultivated this gift, which seemed capable of
unlimited improvement; nor detail the various occasions on which
it was successfully exerted to lead superstition, conquer
avarice, or excite awe.

"I left America, which is my native soil, in my youth. I
have been engaged in various scenes of life, in which my
peculiar talent has been exercised with more or less success.
I was finally betrayed by one who called himself my friend, into
acts which cannot be justified, though they are susceptible of
apology.

"The perfidy of this man compelled me to withdraw from
Europe. I returned to my native country, uncertain whether
silence and obscurity would save me from his malice. I resided
in the purlieus of the city. I put on the garb and assumed the
manners of a clown.

"My chief recreation was walking. My principal haunts were
the lawns and gardens of Mettingen. In this delightful region
the luxuriances of nature had been chastened by judicious art,
and each successive contemplation unfolded new enchantments.

" I was studious of seclusion: I was satiated with the
intercourse of mankind, and discretion required me to shun their
intercourse. For these reasons I long avoided the observation
of your family, and chiefly visited these precincts at night.

"I was never weary of admiring the position and ornaments of
THE TEMPLE. Many a night have I passed under its roof,
revolving no pleasing meditations. When, in my frequent
rambles, I perceived this apartment was occupied, I gave a
different direction to my steps. One evening, when a shower had
just passed, judging by the silence that no one was within, I
ascended to this building. Glancing carelessly round, I
perceived an open letter on the pedestal. To read it was
doubtless an offence against politeness. Of this offence,
however, I was guilty.

"Scarcely had I gone half through when I was alarmed by the
approach of your brother. To scramble down the cliff on the
opposite side was impracticable. I was unprepared to meet a
stranger. Besides the aukwardness attending such an interview
in these circumstances, concealment was necessary to my safety.
A thousand times had I vowed never again to employ the dangerous
talent which I possessed; but such was the force of habit and
the influence of present convenience, that I used this method of
arresting his progress and leading him back to the house, with
his errand, whatever it was, unperformed. I had often caught
parts, from my station below, of your conversation in this
place, and was well acquainted with the voice of your sister.

"Some weeks after this I was again quietly seated in this
recess. The lateness of the hour secured me, as I thought, from
all interruption. In this, however, I was mistaken, for Wieland
and Pleyel, as I judged by their voices, earnest in dispute,
ascended the hill.

"I was not sensible that any inconvenience could possibly
have flowed from my former exertion; yet it was followed with
compunction, because it was a deviation from a path which I had
assigned to myself. Now my aversion to this means of escape was
enforced by an unauthorized curiosity, and by the knowledge of
a bushy hollow on the edge of the hill, where I should be safe
from discovery. Into this hollow I thrust myself.

"The propriety of removal to Europe was the question eagerly
discussed. Pleyel intimated that his anxiety to go was
augmented by the silence of Theresa de Stolberg. The temptation
to interfere in this dispute was irresistible. In vain I
contended with inveterate habits. I disguised to myself the
impropriety of my conduct, by recollecting the benefits which it
might produce. Pleyel's proposal was unwise, yet it was
enforced with plausible arguments and indefatigable zeal. Your
brother might be puzzled and wearied, but could not be
convinced. I conceived that to terminate the controversy in
favor of the latter was conferring a benefit on all parties.
For this end I profited by an opening in the conversation, and
assured them of Catharine's irreconcilable aversion to the
scheme, and of the death of the Saxon baroness. The latter
event was merely a conjecture, but rendered extremely probable
by Pleyel's representations. My purpose, you need not be told,
was effected.

"My passion for mystery, and a species of imposture, which I
deemed harmless, was thus awakened afresh. This second lapse
into error made my recovery more difficult. I cannot convey to
you an adequate idea of the kind of gratification which I
derived from these exploits; yet I meditated nothing. My views
were bounded to the passing moment, and commonly suggested by
the momentary exigence.

"I must not conceal any thing. Your principles teach you to
abhor a voluptuous temper; but, with whatever reluctance, I
acknowledge this temper to be mine. You imagine your servant
Judith to be innocent as well as beautiful; but you took her
from a family where hypocrisy, as well as licentiousness, was
wrought into a system. My attention was captivated by her
charms, and her principles were easily seen to be flexible.

"Deem me not capable of the iniquity of seduction. Your
servant is not destitute of feminine and virtuous qualities; but
she was taught that the best use of her charms consists in the
sale of them. My nocturnal visits to Mettingen were now
prompted by a double view, and my correspondence with your
servant gave me, at all times, access to your house.

"The second night after our interview, so brief and so little
foreseen by either of us, some daemon of mischief seized me.
According to my companion's report, your perfections were little
less than divine. Her uncouth but copious narratives converted
you into an object of worship. She chiefly dwelt upon your
courage, because she herself was deficient in that quality. You
held apparitions and goblins in contempt. You took no
precautions against robbers. You were just as tranquil and
secure in this lonely dwelling, as if you were in the midst of
a crowd.
"Hence a vague project occurred to me, to put this courage to
the test. A woman capable of recollection in danger, of warding
off groundless panics, of discerning the true mode of
proceeding, and profiting by her best resources, is a prodigy.
I was desirous of ascertaining whether you were such an one.

"My expedient was obvious and simple: I was to counterfeit
a murderous dialogue; but this was to be so conducted that
another, and not yourself, should appear to be the object. I
was not aware of the possibility that you should appropriate
these menaces to yourself. Had you been still and listened, you
would have heard the struggles and prayers of the victim, who
would likewise have appeared to be shut up in the closet, and
whose voice would have been Judith's. This scene would have
been an appeal to your compassion; and the proof of cowardice or
courage which I expected from you, would have been your
remaining inactive in your bed, or your entering the closet with
a view to assist the sufferer. Some instances which Judith
related of your fearlessness and promptitude made me adopt the
latter supposition with some degree of confidence.

"By the girl's direction I found a ladder, and mounted to
your closet window. This is scarcely large enough to admit the
head, but it answered my purpose too well.

"I cannot express my confusion and surprize at your abrupt
and precipitate flight. I hastily removed the ladder; and,
after some pause, curiosity and doubts of your safety induced me
to follow you. I found you stretched on the turf before your
brother's door, without sense or motion. I felt the deepest
regret at this unlooked-for consequence of my scheme. I knew
not what to do to procure you relief. The idea of awakening the
family naturally presented itself. This emergency was critical,
and there was no time to deliberate. It was a sudden thought
that occurred. I put my lips to the key-hole, and sounded an
alarm which effectually roused the sleepers. My organs were
naturally forcible, and had been improved by long and assiduous
exercise.

"Long and bitterly did I repent of my scheme. I was somewhat
consoled by reflecting that my purpose had not been evil, and
renewed my fruitless vows never to attempt such dangerous
experiments. For some time I adhered, with laudable
forbearance, to this resolution.

"My life has been a life of hardship and exposure. In the
summer I prefer to make my bed of the smooth turf, or, at most,
the shelter of a summer-house suffices. In all my rambles I
never found a spot in which so many picturesque beauties and
rural delights were assembled as at Mettingen. No corner of
your little domain unites fragrance and secrecy in so perfect a
degree as the recess in the bank. The odour of its leaves, the
coolness of its shade, and the music of its water-fall, had
early attracted my attention. Here my sadness was converted
into peaceful melancholy--here my slumbers were sound, and my
pleasures enhanced.

"As most free from interruption, I chose this as the scene of
my midnight interviews with Judith. One evening, as the sun
declined, I was seated here, when I was alarmed by your
approach. It was with difficulty that I effected my escape
unnoticed by you.

"At the customary hour, I returned to your habitation, and
was made acquainted by Judith, with your unusual absence. I
half suspected the true cause, and felt uneasiness at the danger
there was that I should be deprived of my retreat; or, at least,
interrupted in the possession of it. The girl, likewise,
informed me, that among your other singularities, it was not
uncommon for you to leave your bed, and walk forth for the sake
of night-airs and starlight contemplations.

"I desired to prevent this inconvenience. I found you easily
swayed by fear. I was influenced, in my choice of means, by the
facility and certainty of that to which I had been accustomed.
All that I forsaw was, that, in future, this spot would be
cautiously shunned by you.

"I entered the recess with the utmost caution, and
discovered, by your breathings, in what condition you were. The
unexpected interpretation which you placed upon my former
proceeding, suggested my conduct on the present occasion. The
mode in which heaven is said by the poet, to interfere for the
prevention of crimes,** was somewhat analogous to my province,
and never failed to occur to me at seasons like this. It was
requisite to break your slumbers, and for this end I uttered the
powerful monosyllable, "hold! hold!" My purpose was not
prescribed by duty, yet surely it was far from being atrocious
and inexpiable. To effect it, I uttered what was false, but it
was well suited to my purpose. Nothing less was intended than
to injure you. Nay, the evil resulting from my former act, was
partly removed by assuring you that in all places but this you
were safe.


*BILOQUIUM, or ventrilocution. Sound is varied according
to the variations of direction and distance. The art of the
ventriloquist consists in modifying his voice according to all
these variations, without changing his place. See the work of
the Abbe de la Chappelle, in which are accurately recorded the
performances of one of these artists, and some ingenious, though
unsatisfactory speculations are given on the means by which the
effects are produced. This power is, perhaps, given by nature,
but is doubtless improvable, if not acquirable, by art. It may,
possibly, consist in an unusual flexibility or exertion of the
bottom of the tongue and the uvula. That speech is producible
by these alone must be granted, since anatomists mention two
instances of persons speaking without a tongue. In one case,
the organ was originally wanting, but its place was supplied by
a small tubercle, and the uvula was perfect. In the other, the
tongue was destroyed by disease, but probably a small part of it
remained.

This power is difficult to explain, but the fact is
undeniable. Experience shews that the human voice can imitate
the voice of all men and of all inferior animals. The sound of
musical instruments, and even noises from the contact of
inanimate substances, have been accurately imitated. The
mimicry of animals is notorious; and Dr. Burney (Musical
Travels) mentions one who imitated a flute and violin, so as to
deceive even his ears.


**--Peeps through the blanket of the dark, and cries Hold!
Hold!--SHAKESPEARE.



Chapter XXIII


"My morals will appear to you far from rigid, yet my conduct
will fall short of your suspicions. I am now to confess actions
less excusable, and yet surely they will not entitle me to the
name of a desperate or sordid criminal.

"Your house was rendered, by your frequent and long absences,
easily accessible to my curiosity. My meeting with Pleyel was
the prelude to direct intercourse with you. I had seen much of
the world, but your character exhibited a specimen of human
powers that was wholly new to me. My intercourse with your
servant furnished me with curious details of your domestic
management. I was of a different sex: I was not your husband;
I was not even your friend; yet my knowledge of you was of that
kind, which conjugal intimacies can give, and, in some respects,
more accurate. The observation of your domestic was guided by
me.

"You will not be surprized that I should sometimes profit by
your absence, and adventure to examine with my own eyes, the
interior of your chamber. Upright and sincere, you used no
watchfulness, and practised no precautions. I scrutinized every
thing, and pried every where. Your closet was usually locked,
but it was once my fortune to find the key on a bureau. I
opened and found new scope for my curiosity in your books. One
of these was manuscript, and written in characters which
essentially agreed with a short-hand system which I had learned
from a Jesuit missionary.

"I cannot justify my conduct, yet my only crime was
curiosity. I perused this volume with eagerness. The intellect
which it unveiled, was brighter than my limited and feeble
organs could bear. I was naturally inquisitive as to your ideas
respecting my deportment, and the mysteries that had lately
occurred.

"You know what you have written. You know that in this
volume the key to your inmost soul was contained. If I had been
a profound and malignant impostor, what plenteous materials were
thus furnished me of stratagems and plots!

"The coincidence of your dream in the summer-house with my
exclamation, was truly wonderful. The voice which warned you to
forbear was, doubtless, mine; but mixed by a common process of
the fancy, with the train of visionary incidents.

"I saw in a stronger light than ever, the dangerousness of
that instrument which I employed, and renewed my resolutions to
abstain from the use of it in future; but I was destined
perpetually to violate my resolutions. By some perverse fate,
I was led into circumstances in which the exertion of my powers
was the sole or the best means of escape.

"On that memorable night on which our last interview took
place, I came as usual to Mettingen. I was apprized of your
engagement at your brother's, from which you did not expect to
return till late. Some incident suggested the design of
visiting your chamber. Among your books which I had not
examined, might be something tending to illustrate your
character, or the history of your family. Some intimation had
been dropped by you in discourse, respecting a performance of
your father, in which some important transaction in his life was
recorded.

"I was desirous of seeing this book; and such was my habitual
attachment to mystery, that I preferred the clandestine perusal
of it. Such were the motives that induced me to make this
attempt. Judith had disappeared, and finding the house
unoccupied, I supplied myself with a light, and proceeded to
your chamber.

"I found it easy, on experiment, to lock and unlock your
closet door without the aid of a key. I shut myself in this
recess, and was busily exploring your shelves, when I heard some
one enter the room below. I was at a loss who it could be,
whether you or your servant. Doubtful, however, as I was, I
conceived it prudent to extinguish the light. Scarcely was this
done, when some one entered the chamber. The footsteps were
easily distinguished to be yours.

"My situation was now full of danger and perplexity. For
some time, I cherished the hope that you would leave the room so
long as to afford me an opportunity of escaping. As the hours
passed, this hope gradually deserted me. It was plain that you
had retired for the night.

"I knew not how soon you might find occasion to enter the
closet. I was alive to all the horrors of detection, and
ruminated without ceasing, on the behaviour which it would be
proper, in case of detection, to adopt. I was unable to
discover any consistent method of accounting for my being thus
immured.

"It occurred to me that I might withdraw you from your
chamber for a few minutes, by counterfeiting a voice from
without. Some message from your brother might be delivered,
requiring your presence at his house. I was deterred from this
scheme by reflecting on the resolution I had formed, and on the
possible evils that might result from it. Besides, it was not
improbable that you would speedily retire to bed, and then, by
the exercise of sufficient caution, I might hope to escape
unobserved.

"Meanwhile I listened with the deepest anxiety to every
motion from without. I discovered nothing which betokened
preparation for sleep. Instead of this I heard deep-drawn
sighs, and occasionally an half-expressed and mournful
ejaculation. Hence I inferred that you were unhappy. The true
state of your mind with regard to Pleyel your own pen had
disclosed; but I supposed you to be framed of such materials,
that, though a momentary sadness might affect you, you were
impregnable to any permanent and heartfelt grief. Inquietude
for my own safety was, for a moment, suspended by sympathy with
your distress.

"To the former consideration I was quickly recalled by a
motion of yours which indicated I knew not what. I fostered the
persuasion that you would now retire to bed; but presently you
approached the closet, and detection seemed to be inevitable.
You put your hand upon the lock. I had formed no plan to
extricate myself from the dilemma in which the opening of the
door would involve me. I felt an irreconcilable aversion to
detection. Thus situated, I involuntarily seized the door with
a resolution to resist your efforts to open it.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.