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 EVERY body
knows, in a
general
way, that the finest place in the world is — or, alas! was —
the
Dutch borough of Vondervotteimittiss. {{1840-02:
*}} Yet, as it lies
some distance
from
any of the main roads, being in a somewhat out of the way situation,
there
are, perhaps, very few of my readers who have ever paid it a visit. For
the benefit of those who have not, therefore, it will be only
proper
that I should enter into some account of it. And this is, indeed, the
more
evident, as with the hope of enlisting public sympathy in behalf of the
inhabitants, I design here to give a history of the calamitous events
which
have so lately occurred within the limits. No one who knows me will
doubt
that the duty thus self-imposed will be executed to the best of my
ability,
with all that rigid impartiality, all that cautious examination into
facts,
and diligent collation of authorities which should ever distinguish him
who aspires to the title of historian. By the united aid of medals,
manuscripts, and
inscriptions,
I am enabled to say positively that the borough of Vondervotteimittiss
has existed, from its [page 158:] origin, in
precisely
the same condition which it at present preserves. Of the date of this
origin,
however, I grieve that I can only speak with that species of indefinite
definitiveness which mathematicians are, at times, forced to put up
with
in certain algebraic formulæ. The date, I may thus say, in regard
to the remoteness of its antiquity, cannot be less than any assignable
quantity whatsoever. Touching the derivation of the name
Vondervotteimittiss,
I confess myself, with sorrow, equally at fault. Among a multitude of
opinions
upon this delicate point, some acute, some learned, some sufficiently
the
reverse, I am able to select nothing which ought to be considered
satisfactory.
Perhaps the idea of Grogswigg, nearly coincident with that of
Kroutaplenttey,
is to be cautiously preferred. It runs — "Vondervotteimittiss:
Vonder,
lege Donder: otteimittiss,
quasi und Bleitziz
— Bleitziz obsol: pro
Blitzen."
This derivation, to say the truth, is still countenanced by some traces
of the electric fluid evident on the summit of the steeple of the House
of the Town-Council. I do not choose, however, to commit myself on a
theme
of such importance, and must refer the reader desirous of further
information
to the "Oratiunculae de Rebus Praeter-Veteris" of Dundergutz.
See,
also, Blunderbuzzard "De Derivationibus," pp. 27 to 5010, Folio
Gothic edit., Red and Black character, Catch-word and No Cypher —
wherein
consult, also, marginal notes in the autograph of Stuffundpuff, with
the
Sub-Commentaries of Gruntundguzzell. [page 159:] Notwithstanding the obscurity which
thus envelops
the date of the foundation of Vondervotteimittiss, and the derivation
of
its name, there can be no doubt, as I said before, that it has always
existed
as we find it at this epoch. The oldest man in the borough can remember
not the slightest difference in the appearance of any portion of it,
and,
indeed, the very suggestion of such a possibility is considered an
insult.
The site of the village is in a perfectly circular valley, of about a
quarter
of a mile in circumference, and entirely surrounded by gentle hills,
over
whose summit the people have never yet ventured to pass. For this they
assign the very good reason that they do not believe there is anything
at all on the other side. Round the skirts of the valley,
(which is quite
level,
and paved throughout with flat tiles,) extends a continuous row of
sixty
little houses. These, having their backs on the hills, must look, of
course,
to the centre of the plain, which is just sixty yards from the front
door
of each dwelling. Every house has a small garden before it, with
circular
paths, a sun-dial, and twenty-four cabbages. The buildings themselves
are
all so precisely alike, that one can in no manner be distinguished from
the other. Owing to their vast antiquity, the style of architecture is
somewhat odd — but is not for that reason the less strikingly
picturesque.
They are fashioned of hard-burned little bricks, red, with black ends,
so
that the walls look like chess-boards upon a great scale. The gables
are
turned to the front, and there are cornices [page 160:]
as big as all the rest of the house over the eaves, and over the main
doors.
The windows are narrow and deep, with very tiny panes and a great deal
of sash. On the roof is a vast quantity of tiles with long curly ears.
The wood-work, throughout, is of a dark hue, and there is much carving
about it, with but a trifling variety of pattern; for time out of mind
the carvers of Vondervotteimittiss have never been able to carve more
than
two objects — a time-piece and a cabbage. But these they do excellently
well, and intersperse them with singular ingenuity wherever they find
room
for the chisel. The dwellings are as much alike
inside as out,
and
the furniture is all upon one plan. The floors are of square tiles, the
tables and chairs of black-looking wood with thin crooked legs and
puppy
feet. The mantel-pieces are wide and high, and have not only
time-pieces
and cabbages sculptured over the front, but a real time-piece, which
makes
a prodigious tickling, on top in the middle, with a flower pot
containing
a cabbage standing on each extremity by way of outrider. Between each
cabbage
and the time-piece again, is a little china man having a big belly,
with
a great round hole in it, through which is seen the dial-plate of a
watch. The fire-places are large and deep,
with fierce
crooked-looking
fire-dogs. There is constantly a rousing fire, and a huge pot over it
full
of sauer-kraut and pork, to which the good woman of the house is always
busy in attending. She is a little fat old lady, with blue eyes and a
red
face, and wears a [page 161:] huge cap like a
sugar-loaf,
ornamented with purple and yellow ribbons. Her dress is of
orange-colored
linsey-woolsey made very full behind and very short in the waist; and
indeed
very short in other respects, not reaching below the middle of the calf
of her leg. This is somewhat thick, and so are her ankles, but she has
a fine pair of green stockings to cover them. Her shoes, of pink
leather,
are fastened each with a bunch of yellow ribbons puckered up in the
shape
of a cabbage. In her left hand she has a little heavy Dutch watch —
in
her right she wields a ladle for the sauer-kraut and pork. By her side
there stands a fat tabby cat, with a gilt toy repeater tied to its
tail,
which "the boys" have there fastened by way of a quiz. The boys themselves are, all three of
them, in
the
garden attending the pig. They are each two feet in height. They have
three-cornered
cocked hats, purple waistcoats reaching down to their thighs, buckskin
knee-breeches, red woollen stockings, heavy shoes with big silver
buckles,
and long surtout coats with large buttons of mother-of-pearl. Each,
too,
has a pipe in his mouth, and a dumpy little watch in his right hand. He
takes a puff and a look, and then a look and a puff. The pig, which is
corpulent and lazy, is occupied now in picking up the stray leaves that
fall from the cabbages, and now in giving a kick behind at the gilt
repeater
which the urchins have also tied to his tail, in order to make
him
look as handsome as the cat.Right at the front door, in a high-backed
leather-bottomed [page 162:] armed chair, with
crooked
legs and puppy feet like the tables, is seated the old man of the house
himself. He is an exceedingly puffy little old gentleman, with big
circular
eyes and a huge double chin. His dress resembles that of the boys, and
I need say nothing farther about it. All the difference is that his
pipe
is somewhat bigger than theirs, and he can make a greater smoke. Like
them
he has a watch, but he carries that watch in his pocket. To say the
truth,
he has something of more importance than a watch to attend to, and what
that is I shall presently explain. He sits with his right leg upon his
left knee, wears a grave countenance, and always keeps one of his eyes,
at least, resolutely bent upon a certain remarkable object in the
centre
of the plain. This object is situated in the
steeple of the
House
of the Town-Council. The Town-Council are all very little round
intelligent
men with big saucer eyes and fat double chins, and have their coats
much
longer and their shoe-buckles much bigger than the ordinary inhabitants
of Vondervotteimittiss. Since my sojourn in the borough they have had
several
special meetings, and have adopted the three important resolutions — "That it is wrong to alter the good
old course of
things" — "That there is nothing tolerable out
of
Vondervotteimittiss"
— And "That we will stick by our clocks
and our
cabbages." Above the session room of the Council
is the [page
163:] steeple, and in the steeple is the belfry, where
exists,
and has existed time out of mind, the pride and wonder of the village —
the great clock of the borough of Vondervotteimittiss. And this is the
object to which the eyes of all the old gentlemen are turned who sit in
the leather-bottomed arm-chairs. The great clock has seven faces, one
in each of
the
seven sides of the steeple, so that it can be readily seen from all
quarters.
Its faces are large and white, and its hands heavy and black. There is
a belfry-man whose sole duty is to attend it; but this duty is the most
perfect of sinecures, for the clock of Vondervotteimittiss was never
yet
known to have anything the matter with it. Until lately the bare
supposition
of such a thing was considered heretical. From the remotest period of
antiquity
to which the archives have reference, the hours have been regularly
struck
by the big bell. And indeed the case is just the same with all the
other
clocks and watches in the borough. Never was such a place for keeping
the
true time. When the large clapper thought proper to say "twelve
o'clock!"
all its obedient followers opened their throats simultaneously, and
responded
like a very echo. In short, the good burghers were fond of their
sauer-kraut,
but then they were proud of their clocks. All people who hold sinecure offices
are held in
more or less respect, and as the belfry-man of Vondervotteimittiss has
the most perfect of sinecures, he is the most perfectly respected of
any
man in the world. He is the chief dignitary of the borough, [page
164:] and the very pigs look up to him with a sentiment of
reverence.
His coat-tail is very far longer — his pipe, his shoe-buckles,
his
eyes, and his belly, very far bigger than those of any old
gentleman in
the village — and as to his chin, it is not only double but triple. I have thus painted the happy estate
of
Vondervotteimittiss
— alas! that so fair a picture should ever experience a reverse! There has been long a saying among
the wisest
inhabitants
that "no good can come from over the hills," and it really seemed that
the words had in them something of the spirit of prophecy. It wanted
five
minutes of noon, on the day before yesterday, when there appeared a
very
odd-looking object on the summit of the ridge to the eastward. Such an
occurrence, of course, attracted universal attention, and every little
old gentleman who sat in a leather-bottomed arm-chair turned one of his
eyes with a stare of dismay upon the phenomenon, still keeping the
other
upon the clock in the steeple. By the time that it wanted only three
minutes of
noon the droll object in question was clearly perceived to be a very
diminutive
foreign-looking young man. He descended the hills at a great rate, so
that
every body had soon a good look at him. He was really the most finnicky
little personage that had ever been seen in Vondervotteimittiss. His
countenance
was of a dark snuff colour, and he had a long hooked nose, pea eyes, a
wide mouth, and an excellent set of teeth, which latter he seemed
anxious
of displaying, [page 165:] as he was grinning from
ear to ear. What with
mustaches and whiskers
there was none of the rest
of his face to be seen. His head was uncovered, and his hair neatly
done
up in papillotes. His dress was a tight-fitting swallow-tailed
black
coat (from one of whose pockets dangled a vast length of white
handkerchief),
black kerseymere knee-breeches, black silk stockings, and
stumpy-looking
pumps, with huge bunches of black satin ribbon for bows. Under one arm
he carried a huge chapeau-de-bras, and under the other a fiddle
nearly five times as big as himself. In his left hand was a gold
snuff-box,
from which as he capered down the hill, cutting all manner of
fantastical
steps, he took snuff incessantly with an air of the greatest possible
self-satisfaction.
God bless me! here was a sight for the eyes of the sober burghers of
Vondervotteimittiss! To speak plainly, the fellow had, in
spite of his
grinning, an audacious and sinister kind of face; and as he curvetted
right
into the village, the odd stumpy appearance of his pumps excited no
little
suspicion, and many a burgher who beheld him that day would have given
a trifle for a peep beneath the white cambric handkerchief which hung
so
obtrusively from the pocket of his swallow-tailed coat. But what mainly
occasioned a righteous indignation was that the
scoundrelly popinjay,
while
he cut a fandango here, and a whirligig there, did not seem to have the
remotest idea in the world of such a thing as keeping time in
his
steps. The good people of the borough had
scarcely a [page
166:] chance, however, to get their eyes thoroughly open,
when,
just as it wanted half a minute of noon, the rascal bounced, as I say,
right into the midst of them, gave a chazzez here and a balancez
there, and then, after a pirouette and a pas-de-zephyr,
pigeon-winged
himself right up into the belfry of the house of the Town-Council,
where
the wonder-stricken belfry-man sat smoking in a state of stupified
dignity
and dismay. But the little chap seized him at once by the nose, gave it
a swing and a pull, clapped the big chapeau-de-bras upon his
head,
knocked it down over his eyes and mouth, and then, lifting up the big
fiddle,
beat him with it so long and so soundly, that what with the belfry-man
being
so fat, and the fiddle being so hollow, you would have sworn there was
a regiment of double-bass drummers all beating the devil's tattoo up in
the belfry of the steeple of Vondervotteimittiss. There is no knowing to what desperate
act of
vengeance
this unprincipled attack might have aroused the inhabitants, but for
the
important fact that it now wanted only half a second of noon. The bell
was about to strike, and it was a matter of absolute and pre-eminent
necessity
that every body should look well at his watch. It was evident, however,
that just at this moment, the fellow in the steeple was doing something
that he had no business to do with the clock. But as it now began to
strike,
nobody had any time to attend to his manœuvres, for they had all to
count
the strokes of the bell as it sounded. "One!" said the clock. [page
167:] "Von!" echoed every little old
gentleman in every
leather-bottomed arm-chair in Vondervotteimittiss. "Von!" said his
watch
also; "von!" said the watch of his vrow, and "von!" said the watches of
the boys, and the little gilt repeaters on the tails of the cat and the
pig. "Two!" continued the big bell; and "Doo!" repeated all the repeaters. "Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven!
Eight! Nine!
Ten!"
said the bell. "Dree! Vour! Fibe! Sax! Seben! Aight!
Noin! Den!"
answered the others. "Eleven!" said the big one. "Eleben!" assented the little
fellows. "Twelve!" said the bell. "Dvelf!" they replied, perfectly
satisfied, and
dropping
their voices. "Und dvelf it iss!" said all the
little old
gentlemen,
putting up their watches. But the big bell had not done with them yet. "Thirteen!" said he. "Der Teufel!" gasped the little old
gentlemen,
turning
pale, dropping their pipes, and putting down all their right legs from
over their left knees — "Der Teufel!" groaned they —
"Dirteen! Dirteen!!
— Mein Gott, it is — it is Dirteen o'clock!!" What is the use of attempting to
describe the
terrible
scene which ensued? All Vondervotteimittis flew at once into a
lamentable
state of uproar. "Vot is cum'd to mein pelly?" roared
all the boys — "I've been an ongry for dis
hour!" [page 168:] "Vot is cum'd to mein kraut?"
screamed all the
vrows —
"It has been done to rags for dis hour!" "Vot is cum'd to mein pipe?" swore
all the little
old gentlemen — "Donder und Blitzen! it
has been smoked out for dis
hour!"
— and they filled them up again in a great rage, and sinking back in
their
arm-chairs, puffed away so fast and so fiercely that the whole valley
was
immediately filled with an impenetrable smoke. Meantime the cabbages all turned very
red in the
face, and it seemed as if the old Nick himself had taken possession of
everything in the shape of a time-piece. The clocks carved upon the
furniture
got to dancing as if bewitched, while those upon the mantel-pieces
could
scarcely contain themselves for fury, and kept such a continual
striking
of thirteen, and such a frisking and wriggling of their pendulums as it
was really horrible to see. But, worse than all, neither the cats nor
the
pigs could put up any longer with the outrageous behavior of the little
repeaters tied to their tails, and resented it by scampering all over
the
place, scratching and poking, and squeaking and screeching, and
caterwauling
and squalling, and flying into the faces, and running under the
petticoats,
of the people, and creating altogether the most abominable din and
confusion
which it is possible for a reasonable person to conceive. And to make
it
if he could
more abominable, the rascally little scape-grace in the
steeple
was evidently exerting himself to the utmost. Every now and then one
might
catch a glimpse of the [page 169:] scoundrel
through
the smoke. There he sat in the belfry upon the belly of the belfry-man,
who was lying flat upon his back. In his teeth
he held the bell-rope
which
he kept jerking about with his head, raising such a clatter that my
ears
ring again even to think of it. On his lap lay the big fiddle at which
he was scraping out of all time and tune with both his hands, making a
great show, the nincompoop! of playing Judy O'Flannagan and Paddy
O'Rafferty. Affairs being thus miserably
situated, I left the
place in disgust, and now appeal for aid to all lovers of good time and
fine kraut. Let us proceed in a body to the borough, and restore the
ancient
order of things in Vondervotteimittiss by ejecting that little chap
from
the steeple. |
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