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[page 27:]
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WILLIAM WILSON.
What say of it? what say of CONSCIENCE
grim, 
That spectre in my
path? .
Chamberlaine's Pharronida.
|
LET me call
myself, for
the
present, William Wilson. The fair page now lying before me need not be
sullied with my real appellation. This has been already too much an
object
for the scorn, for the horror, for the detestation of my race. To the
uttermost
regions of the globe have not the indignant winds bruited its
unparalleled
infamy? Oh, outcast of all outcasts most abandoned! To the earth art
thou
not forever dead? to its honors, to its flowers, to its golden
aspirations?
and a cloud, dense, dismal, and limitless, does it not hang eternally
between
thy hopes and heaven?
I would not, if I could, here or
to-day, embody a
record of my later years of unspeakable misery, and unpardonable crime.
This epoch — these later years — took unto themselves a sudden
elevation
in turpitude, [page 28:] whose origin alone it is
my
present purpose to assign. Men usually grow base by degrees. From me,
in
an instant, all virtue dropped bodily as a mantle. I shrouded my
nakedness
in triple guilt. From comparatively trivial wickedness I passed, with
the
stride of a giant, into more than the enormities of an Elah-Gabalus.
What
chance {{1840-01: , // 1842-02: —
}} what one event brought this evil thing to
pass, bear with me
while
I relate. Death approaches; and the shadow which foreruns him has
thrown
a softening influence over my spirit. I long, in passing through the
dim
valley, for the sympathy — I had nearly said for the pity — of my
fellow-men.
I would fain have them believe that I have been, in some measure, the
slave
of circumstances beyond human control. I would wish them to seek out
for
me, in the details I am about to give, some little oasis of fatality
amid a wilderness of error. I would have them allow — what they cannot
refrain from allowing — that, although temptation may have erewhile
existed
as great, man was never thus, at least, tempted before —
certainly,
never thus fell. And {{1842-02:
it is }} therefore {{1840-01:
has he // 1842-02: that he has }} never thus
suffered.
Have I not
indeed been living in a dream? And am I not now dying a victim to the
horror
and the mystery of the wildest of all sublunary visions?
I am {{1840-01: come //
1842-02: the descendant }} of a race whose
imaginative
and easily
excitable temperament has at all times rendered them remarkable; and,
in
my earliest infancy, I gave evidence of having fully inherited the
family
character. As I advanced in years it was more strongly developed;
becoming,
for many reasons, a cause of serious [page 29:]
disquietude
to my friends, and of positive injury to myself. I grew self-willed,
addicted
to the wildest caprices, and a prey to the most ungovernable passions.
Weak-minded, and beset with constitutional infirmities akin to my own,
my parents could do but little to check the evil propensities which
distinguished
me. Some feeble and ill-directed efforts resulted in complete failure
on
their part, and, of course, in total triumph on mine. Thenceforward my
voice was a household law; and at an age when few children have
abandoned
their leading-strings, I was left to the guidance of my own will, and
became,
in all but name, the master of my own actions.
My earliest recollections of a
school-life are
connected
with a large, rambling, cottage-built, and somewhat decayed building in
a misty-looking village of England, where were a vast number of
gigantic
and gnarled trees, and where all the houses were excessively ancient {{1840-01: and
inordinately tall }} . In truth, it was a dream-like and
spirit-soothing
place,
that venerable old town. At this moment, in fancy, I feel the
refreshing
chilliness of its deeply-shadowed avenues, inhale the fragrance of its
thousand shrubberies, and thrill anew with undefinable delight, at the
deep, hollow note of the church-bell, breaking {{1842-02:
, }} each hour, with sullen
and
sudden roar, upon the stillness of the dusky atmosphere in which the
old,
fretted, Gothic steeple lay imbedded and asleep.
It gives me, perhaps, as much of
pleasure as I
can
now in any manner experience, to dwell upon minute recollections of the
school and its concerns. Steeped [page 30:] in
misery
as I am — misery, alas! only too real — I shall be pardoned for seeking
relief, however slight and temporary, in the weakness of a few rambling
details. These, moreover, utterly trivial, and even ridiculous in
themselves,
assume, to my fancy, adventitious importance as connected with a period
and a locality, when and where I recognise the first ambiguous
monitions
of the destiny which afterwards so fully overshadowed me. Let me then
remember.
The house, I have said, was old,
irregular, and
cottage-built.
The grounds were extensive, and an enormously high and solid brick
wall,
topped with a bed of mortar and broken glass, encompassed the whole.
This
prison-like rampart formed the limit of our domain {{1840-01: ; beyond // 1842-02: .
Beyond }} it we saw
but
thrice a week — once every Saturday afternoon, when, attended by two
ushers,
we were permitted to take brief walks in a body through some of the
neighbouring
fields — and twice during Sunday, when we were paraded in the same
formal
manner to the morning and evening service in the one church of the
village.
Of this church the principal of our school was pastor. With how deep a
spirit of wonder and perplexity was I wont to regard him from our
remote
pew in the gallery, as, with step solemn and slow, he ascended the
pulpit!
This reverend man, with countenance so demurely benign, with robes so
glossy
and so clerically flowing, with wig so minutely powdered, so rigid and
so vast — could this be he who of late, with sour visage, and in snuffy
habiliments, administered, ferule in hand, the Draconian laws of the [page
31:] academy? Oh, gigantic paradox, too utterly monstrous
for
solution!
At an angle of the ponderous wall
frowned a more
ponderous gate. It was riveted and studded with iron bolts, and
surmounted
with jagged iron spikes. What impressions of deep awe {{1842-02: did }} it {{1840-01: inspired // 1842-02: inspire
}} ! It
was
never opened save for the three periodical egressions and ingressions
already
mentioned; then, in every creak of its mighty hinges we found a
plenitude
of mystery, a world of matter for solemn remark, or for more solemn
meditation.
The extensive enclosure was irregular
in form,
having
many capacious recesses. Of these, three or four of the largest
constituted
the play-ground. It was level, and covered with fine, hard gravel. I
well
remember it had no trees, nor benches, nor anything similar within it.
Of course it was in the rear of the house. In front lay a small
parterre,
planted with box and other shrubs; but through this sacred division we
passed only upon rare occasions indeed, such as a first advent to
school
or final departure thence, or perhaps, when a parent or friend having
called
for us, we joyfully took our way home for the Christmas or Midsummer
holydays.
But the house — how quaint an old
building was
this!
— to me how veritably a palace of enchantment! There was really no end
to its windings, to its incomprehensible subdivisions. It was
impossible,
at any given time, to say with certainty upon which of its two stories
one happened to be. From each room to every other there were sure to be
found three or [page 32:] four steps either in
ascent
or descent. Then the lateral branches were innumerable — inconceivable
— and so returning in upon themselves, that our most exact ideas in
regard
to the whole mansion were not very far different from those with which
we pondered upon infinity. During the five years of my residence here I
was never able to ascertain with precision, in what remote locality lay
the little sleeping apartment assigned to myself and some eighteen or
twenty
other scholars.
The school-room was the largest in
the house — I
could not help thinking in the world. It was very long, narrow, and
dismally
low, with pointed Gothic windows and a ceiling of oak. In a remote and
terror-inspiring angle was a square enclosure of eight or ten feet,
comprising
the sanctum, "during hours," of our principal, the Reverend Dr.
Bransby.
It was a solid structure, with massy door, sooner than open which in
the
absence of the "Dominie," we would all have willingly perished by the peine
forte et dure. In other angles were two other similar boxes, far
less
reverenced, indeed, but still greatly matters of awe. One of these was
the pulpit of "the classical" usher, one of the "English and
mathematical."
Interspersed about the room, crossing and recrossing in endless
irregularity,
were innumerable benches and desks, black, ancient, and time-worn,
piled
desperately with much-bethumbed books, and so beseamed with initial
letters,
names at full length, meaningless gashes, grotesque figures, and other
multiplied efforts of the knife, as to have entirely lost what little
of
original [page 33:] form might have been their
portion
in days long departed. A huge bucket with water stood at one extremity
of the room, and a clock of stupendous dimensions at the other.
Encompassed by the massy walls of
this venerable
academy I passed, yet not in tedium or disgust, the years of the third
lustrum of my life. The teeming brain of childhood requires no external
world of incident to occupy or amuse it {{1840-01:
, // 1842-02: ; }} and the apparently dismal
monotony
of a school was replete with more intense excitement than my riper
youth
has derived from luxury, or my full manhood from crime. Yet I must
believe
that my first mental development had in it much of the uncommon {{1840-01: , // 1842-02: — }}
even
much
of the outré. Upon mankind at large the events of very
early
existence rarely leave in mature age any definite impression. All is
gray
shadow — a weak and irregular remembrance — an indistinct regathering
of
feeble pleasures and phantasmagoric pains. With me this is not so. In
childhood
I must have felt with the energy of a man what I now find stamped upon
memory in lines as vivid, as deep, and as durable as the exergues of
the
Carthaginian medals.
Yet in fact — in the fact of the
world's view —
how
little was there to remember! The morning's awakening, the nightly
summons
to bed; the connings, the recitations; the periodical half-holidays,
and
perambulations; the play-ground, with its broils, its pastimes, its
intrigues
— these, by a mental sorcery long forgotten, were made to involve a
wilderness
of sensation, a world of rich incident, an universe of [page
34:]
varied emotion, of excitement the most passionate and spirit-stirring.
"Oh, le bon temps, que ce siecle de fer!"
In truth, the ardency, the
enthusiasm, and the
imperiousness
of my disposition, soon rendered me a marked character among my
schoolmates,
and by slow, but natural gradations, gave me an ascendency over all not
greatly older than myself {{1842-02: ; }}
— over all with one single exception. This
exception
was found in the person of a scholar, who, although no relation, bore
the
same Christian and surname as myself {{1842-02:
; }} — a circumstance, in fact, little
remarkable, for, notwithstanding a noble descent, mine was one of those
every-day appellations which seem, by prescriptive right, to have been,
time out of mind, the common property of the mob. In this narrative I
have
therefore designated myself as William Wilson — a fictitious title not
very dissimilar to the real. My namesake alone, of those who in school
phraseology constituted "our set," presumed to compete with me in the
studies
of the class {{1840-01: , // 1842-02:
— }} in the sports and broils of the play-ground — to
refuse
implicit
belief in my assertions, and submission to my will — indeed to
interfere
with my arbitrary dictation in any respect whatsoever. If there {{1840-01: be // 1842-02: is }}
on
earth
a supreme and unqualified despotism, it is the despotism of a master
mind
in boyhood over the less energetic spirits of its companions.
Wilson's rebellion was to me a source
of the
greatest
embarrassment {{1842-02: ; }}
— the more so as, in spite of the bravado with which in
public
I made a point of treating him and his pretensions, I secretly felt
that
I feared him, [page 35:] and could not help
thinking
the equality which he maintained so easily with myself, a proof of his
true superiority, since not to be overcome cost me a perpetual
struggle.
Yet this superiority — even this equality — was in truth acknowledged
by
no one but myself; our associates, by some unaccountable blindness,
seemed
not even to suspect it. Indeed, his competition, his resistance, and
especially
his impertinent and dogged interference with my purposes, were not more
pointed than private. He appeared to be {{1840-01:
utterly }} destitute alike of the
ambition which urged, and of the passionate energy of mind which
enabled
me to excel. In his rivalry he might have been supposed actuated solely
by a whimsical desire to thwart, astonish, or mortify myself; although
there were times when I could not help observing, with a feeling made
up
of wonder, abasement, and pique, that he mingled with his injuries, his
insults, or his contradictions, a certain most inappropriate, and
assuredly
most unwelcome affectionateness of manner. I could only
conceive
this singular behaviour to arise from a consummate self-conceit
assuming
the vulgar airs of patronage and protection.
Perhaps it was this latter trait in
Wilson's
conduct,
conjoined with our identity of name, and the mere accident of our
having
entered the school upon the same day, which set afloat the notion that
we were brothers, among the senior classes in the academy. These do not
usually inquire with much strictness into the affairs of their juniors.
I have before said, or should have said, that Wilson was not, in the
most [page 36:] remote degree, connected
with my family.
But assuredly if we had been brothers we must have been twins,
for,
after leaving Dr. Bransby's, I casually learned that my namesake {{1840-01: — a
somewhat
remarkable coincidence — }} was born on the nineteenth
of January, {{1840-01: 1809 //
1842-02: 1811 }} — {{1840-01:
and this is
precisely the day // 1842-02: a somewhat remarkable
coincidence; for the day is precisely that }} of my own
nativity.
It may seem strange that in spite of
the
continual
anxiety occasioned me by the rivalry of Wilson, and his intolerable
spirit
of contradiction, I could not bring myself to hate him altogether. We
had,
to be sure, nearly every day a quarrel, in which, yielding me publicly
the palm of victory, he, in some manner, contrived to make me feel that
it was he who had deserved it; yet a sense of pride upon my part, and a
veritable dignity upon his own, kept us always upon what are called
"speaking
terms," while there were many points of strong congeniality in our
tempers,
operating to awake in me a sentiment which our position alone, perhaps,
prevented from ripening into friendship. It is difficult, indeed, to
define,
or even to describe, my real feelings towards him. They {{1840-01: were }} formed {{1840-01: of }} a heterogeneous
mixture — some petulant
animosity, which was not yet
hatred,
some esteem, more respect, much fear, with a world of uneasy curiosity.
{{1840-01: To the moralist
fully acquainted with the minute spirings [[springs]]
of human
action,
it will be unnecessary // 1842-02: It will scarcely be
necessary }} to say, in addition, that Wilson and myself
were
the most inseparable of companions.
It was no doubt the anomalous state
of affairs
existing
between us which turned all my attacks upon [page 37:]
him, (and they were many, either open or covert) into the channel of
banter
or practical joke (giving pain while assuming the aspect of mere fun)
rather
than into that of a more serious and determined hostility. But my
endeavors
on this head were by no means uniformly successful, even when my plans
were the most wittily concocted; for my namesake had much about him, in
character, of that unassuming and quiet austerity which, while enjoying
the poignancy of its own jokes, has no heel of Achilles in itself, and
absolutely refuses to be laughed at. I could find, indeed, but one
vulnerable
point, and that, lying in a personal peculiarity, arising, perhaps,
from
constitutional disease, would have been spared by any antagonist less
at
his wit's end than myself {{1842-01: ; }}
— my rival had a weakness in the faucial or
guttural
organs, which precluded him from raising his voice at any time above
a very low whisper. Of this defect I did not fail to take what poor
advantage lay in my power.
Wilson's retaliations in kind were
many, and
there
was one form of his practical wit that disturbed me beyond measure. How
his sagacity first discovered at all that so petty a thing would vex me
is a question I never could solve {{1840-01:
— // 1842-02: ; }} but, having discovered, he
habitually
practised the annoyance. I had always felt aversion to my uncourtly
patronymic,
and its very common, if not plebeian {{1840-01:
praenomen // 1842-02: prænomen }} . The
words were venom in
my ears; and when, upon the day of my arrival, a second William Wilson
came also to the academy, I felt angry with him for bearing the [page
38:] name, and doubly disgusted with the name because a
stranger
bore it, who would be the cause of its twofold repetition, who would be
constantly in my presence, and whose concerns, in the ordinary routine
of the school business, must, inevitably, on account of the detestable
coincidence, be often confounded with my own.
The feeling of vexation thus
engendered grew
stronger
with every circumstance tending to show resemblance, moral or physical,
between my rival and myself. I had not then discovered the remarkable
fact
that we were of the same age; but I saw that we were of the same
height,
and I perceived that we were not altogether unlike in general contour
of
person and outline of feature. I was galled, too, by the rumor touching
a relationship which had grown current in the upper forms. In a word,
nothing
could more seriously disturb me, (although I scrupulously concealed
such
disturbance,) than any allusion to a similarity of mind, person, or
condition
existing between us. But, in truth, I had no reason to believe that
(with
the exception of the matter of relationship, and in the case of Wilson
himself), this similarity had ever been made a subject of comment, or
even
observed at all by our schoolfellows. That he observed it in
all its
bearings,
and as fixedly as I, was apparent, but that he could discover in such
circumstances
so fruitful a field of annoyance for myself can only be attributed, as
I said before, to his more than ordinary penetration.
His cue, which was to perfect an
imitation of [page
39:] myself, lay both in words and in actions; and most
admirably
did he play his part. My dress it was an easy matter to copy; my gait
and
general manner, were, without difficulty, appropriated; in spite of his
constitutional defect, even my voice did not escape him. My louder
tones
were, of course, unattempted, but then the key, it was identical; and
his singular whisper, it grew the very echo of my own.
How greatly this most exquisite
portraiture
harassed
me, (for it could not justly be termed a caricature,) I will not now
venture
to describe. I had but one consolation — in the fact that the
imitation,
apparently, was noticed by myself alone, and that I had to endure only
the knowing and strangely sarcastic smiles of my namesake himself.
Satisfied
with having produced in my bosom the intended effect, he seemed to
chuckle
in secret over the sting he had inflicted, and was characteristically
disregardful
of the public applause which the success of his witty endeavors might
have
so easily elicited. That the school, indeed, did not feel his design,
perceive
its accomplishment, and participate in his sneer, was, for many {{1840-01: anxious }} months, a
riddle I could not resolve.
Perhaps the gradation of
his
copy rendered it not so readily perceptible, or, more possibly, I owed
my security to the masterly air of the copyist, who, disdaining the
letter,
which in a painting is all the obtuse can see, gave but the full spirit
of his original for my individual contemplation and chagrin.
I have
already
more than once spoken of the disgusting [page 40:]
air of patronage which he assumed towards me, and of his frequent
officious
interference with my will. This interference often took the ungracious
character of advice; advice not openly given, but hinted or insinuated.
I received it with a repugnance which gained strength as I grew in
years.
Yet, at this distant day, let me do him the simple justice to
acknowledge
that I can recall no occasion when the suggestions of my rival were on
the side of those errors or follies so usual to his immature age, and
seeming
inexperience; that his moral sense, at least, if not his general
talents
and worldly wisdom, was far keener than my own; and that I might,
today,
have been a better, and thus a happier man, had I {{1840-01:
more seldom // 1842-02: less frequently }}
rejected
the counsels embodied in those meaning whispers which I then but too
cordially
hated, and too bitterly {{1840-01:
derided // 1842-02: despised }} .
As it was, I at length grew restive
in the
extreme,
under his distasteful supervision, and daily resented more and more
openly
what I considered his {{1840-01:
intolerable }} arrogance. I have said that, in the
first
years of our connexion as schoolmates, my feelings in regard to him
might
have been easily ripened into friendship; but, in the latter months of
my residence at the academy, although the intrusion of his ordinary
manner
had, beyond doubt, in some measure, abated, my sentiments, in nearly
similar
proportion, partook very much of positive hatred. Upon one occasion he
saw this, I think, and afterwards avoided, or made a show of avoiding
me.
It was about the same period, if I
remember
aright, [page 41:] that, in an altercation of
violence with
him, in which he was more than usually thrown off his guard, and spoke
and acted with an openness of demeanor rather foreign to his nature, I
discovered, or fancied I discovered, in his accent, his air, and
general
appearance, a something which first startled, and then deeply
interested
me, by bringing to mind dim visions of my earliest infancy — wild,
confused
and thronging memories of a time when memory herself was yet unborn. I
cannot better describe the sensation which oppressed me {{1842-02: , }} than by saying {{1840-01: that }} I could with
difficulty shake off the belief that myself and the
being
who stood before me had been acquainted at some epoch very long ago;
some
point of the past even infinitely remote. The delusion, however, faded
rapidly as it came; and I mention it at all but to define the day of
the
last conversation I there held with my singular namesake.
The huge old house, with its
countless
subdivisions,
had several enormously large chambers communicating with each other,
where
slept the greater number of the students. There were, however, as must
necessarily happen in a building so awkwardly planned, many little
nooks
or recesses, the odds and ends of the structure; and these the economic
ingenuity of Dr. Bransby had also fitted up as dormitories {{1840-01: — // 1842-02: ; }}
although,
being the merest closets, they were capable of accommodating only a
single
individual. One of these small apartments was occupied by Wilson.
It was upon a gloomy and tempestuous
night of [page
42:] an early autumn, about the close of my fifth year at
the
school, and immediately after the altercation just mentioned, that,
finding
every one wrapped in sleep, I arose from bed, and, lamp in hand, stole
through a wilderness of narrow passages from my own bedroom to that of
my rival. I had been long plotting one of those ill-natured pieces of
practical
wit at his expense in which I had hitherto been so uniformly
unsuccessful.
It was my intention, now, to put my scheme in operation, and I resolved
to make him feel the whole extent of the malice with which I was
imbued.
Having reached his closet, I noiselessly entered, leaving the lamp,
with
a shade over it, on the outside. I advanced a step, and listened to the
sound of his tranquil breathing. Assured of his being asleep, I
returned,
took the light, and with it again approached the bed. Close curtains
were
around it, which, in the prosecution of my plan, I slowly and quietly
withdrew,
when the bright rays fell vividly upon the sleeper, and my eyes, at the
same moment, upon his countenance. I looked, and a numbness, an iciness
of feeling instantly pervaded my frame. My breast heaved, my knees
tottered,
my whole spirit became possessed with an objectless yet intolerable
horror.
Gasping for breath, I lowered the lamp in still nearer proximity to the
face. Were these — these the lineaments of William Wilson? I
saw,
indeed, that they were his, but I shook as with a fit of the ague in
fancying
they were not. What was there about them to confound me in this
manner? I gazed — while my brain reeled with a multitude of incoherent
thoughts. [page 43:] Not thus he appeared —
assuredly
not thus — in the vivacity of his waking hours. The same name;
the same
contour of person; the same day of arrival at the academy! And then his
dogged and meaningless imitation of my gait, my voice, my habits, and
my
manner! Was it, in truth, within the bounds of human possibility that what
I now {{1840-01: witnessed //
1842-02: saw }} was the result of the habitual
practice of this
sarcastic
imitation? Awe-stricken, and with a creeping shudder, I extinguished
the
lamp, passed silently from the chamber, and left, at once, the halls of
that old academy, never to enter them again.
After a lapse of some months, spent
at home in
mere
idleness, I found myself a student at Eton. The brief interval had been
sufficient to enfeeble my remembrance of the events at Dr. Bransby's,
or
at least to effect a material change in the nature of the feelings with
which I remembered them. The truth {{1840-01:
— // 1842-02: , }} the tragedy {{1840-01: — // 1842-02: , }}
of the drama was no
more. I could now find room to doubt the evidence of my senses {{1840-01: : // 1842-02: , }}
and
seldom
called up the subject at all but with wonder at the extent of human
credulity,
and a smile at the vivid force of the imagination which I hereditarily
possessed. Neither was this species of scepticism likely to be
diminished
by the character of the life I led at Eton. The vortex of thoughtless
folly
into which I there so immediately and so recklessly plunged, washed
away
all but the froth of my past hours {{1840-01:
— // 1842-02: , }} engulfed at once every solid
or
serious
impression, and left to memory only the veriest levities of a former
existence. [page 44:]
I do not wish, however, to trace the
course of my
miserable profligacy here — a profligacy which set at defiance the
laws,
while it eluded the vigilance of the institution. Three years of folly,
passed without profit, had but given me rooted habits of vice, and
added,
in a somewhat unusual degree, to my bodily stature, when, after a week
of soulless dissipation, I invited a small party of the most dissolute
students to a secret carousal in my {{1840-01:
chamber // 1842-02: chambers }} . We met at a
late hour of
the
night, for our debaucheries were to be faithfully protracted until
morning.
The wine flowed freely, and there were not wanting other, {{1842-02: and }} perhaps more
dangerous, seductions; so that the gray dawn had already faintly
appeared
in the east, while our delirious extravagance was at its height. Madly
flushed with cards and intoxication, I was in the act of insisting upon
a toast of more than {{1840-01:
intolerable // 1842-02: wonted }} profanity,
when my attention was
suddenly
diverted by the violent, although partial unclosing of the door of the
apartment, and by the eager voice from without of a servant. He said
that
some person, apparently in great haste, demanded to speak with me in
the
hall.
Wildly excited with the potent Vin
de Barac,
the unexpected interruption rather delighted than surprised me. I
staggered
forward at once, and a few steps brought me to the vestibule of the
building.
In this low and small room there hung no lamp; and now no light at all
was admitted, save that of the exceedingly feeble dawn which made its
way
through a semicircular window. As I put my foot over the [page
45:] threshold I became aware of the figure of a youth about
my own height, and (what then peculiarly struck my mad fancy) habited
in
a white cassimere morning frock, cut in the novel fashion of the one I
myself wore at the moment. This the faint light enabled me to perceive {{1840-01: — // 1842-02: ; }}
but the features of his face I could not distinguish. Immediately
upon
my entering he strode hurriedly up to me, and, seizing me by the arm
with
a gesture of petulant impatience, whispered the words "William Wilson!"
in my ear. I grew perfectly sober in an instant.
There was that in the manner of the
stranger, and
in the tremulous shake of his uplifted finger, as he held it between my
eyes and the light, which filled me with unqualified amazement {{1840-01: — // 1842-02: ; }}
but it
was not this which had so violently moved me. It was the pregnancy of
solemn
admonition in the singular, low, hissing utterance; and, above all, it
was the character, the tone, the key, of those few, simple, and
familiar, yet whispered, syllables, which came with a thousand
thronging
memories of by-gone days, and struck upon my soul with the shock of a
galvanic
battery. Ere I could recover the use of my senses he was gone.
Although this event failed not of a
vivid effect
upon my disordered imagination, yet was it evanescent as vivid. For
some
weeks, indeed, I busied myself in earnest inquiry, or was wrapped in a
cloud of morbid speculation. I did not pretend to disguise from my
perception
the identity of the singular individual who thus perseveringly
interfered
with my affairs, and harassed me with his insinuated [page
46:]
counsel. But who and what was this Wilson? — and whence came he? — and
what were his purposes? Upon neither of these points could I be
satisfied {{1840-01: — // 1842-02:
; }} merely ascertaining, in regard to him, that a
sudden accident in his
family had caused his removal from Dr. Bransby's academy on the
afternoon
of the day in which I myself had eloped. But in a brief period I ceased
to think upon the subject; my attention being all absorbed in a
contemplated
departure for Oxford. Thither I soon went; the uncalculating vanity of
my parents furnishing me with an outfit, and annual establishment,
which
would enable me to indulge at will in the luxury already so dear to my
heart — to vie in profuseness of expenditure with the haughtiest heirs
of the wealthiest earldoms in Great Britain.
Excited by such appliances to vice,
my
constitutional
temperament broke forth with redoubled ardor, and I spurned even the
common
restraints of decency in the mad infatuation of my revels. But it were
absurd to pause in the detail of my extravagance. Let it suffice, that
among spendthrifts I {{1840-01:
out-heroded // 1842-02: out-Heroded }} Herod,
and that, giving name to a
multitude
of novel follies, I added no brief appendix to the long catalogue of
vices
then usual in the most dissolute university of Europe.
It could hardly be credited, however,
that I had,
even here, so utterly fallen from the gentlemanly estate {{1842-02: , }} as to seek
acquaintance
with the vilest arts of the gambler by profession, and, having become
an
adept in his despicable science, to practise it habitually [page
47:] as a means of increasing my already enormous income at
the expense of the weak-minded among my fellow-collegians. Such,
nevertheless,
was the fact. And the very enormity of this offence against all manly
and
honourable sentiment proved, beyond doubt, the main, if not the sole
reason
of the impunity with which it was committed. Who, indeed, among my most
abandoned associates, would not rather have disputed the clearest
evidence
of his senses, than have suspected of such courses the gay, the frank,
the generous William Wilson — the noblest and most liberal commoner at
Oxford — him whose follies (said his parasites) were but the follies of
youth and unbridled fancy — whose errors but inimitable whim — whose
darkest
vice but a careless and dashing extravagance?
I had been now two years successfully
busied in
this
way, when there came to the university a young parvenu
nobleman,
Glendinning
— rich, said report, as Herodes Atticus — his riches, too, as easily
acquired.
I soon found him of weak intellect, and, of course, marked him as a
fitting
subject for my skill. I frequently engaged him in play, and contrived,
with a gambler's usual art, to let him win considerable sums, the more
effectually to entangle him in my snares. At length, my schemes being
ripe,
I met him (with the full intention that this meeting should be final
and
decisive) at the chambers of a fellow-commoner, (Mr. Preston,) equally
intimate with both, but who, to do him justice, entertained not even a
remote suspicion of my design. To give [page 48:]
to
this a better coloring, I had contrived to have assembled a party of
some
eight or ten, and was solicitously careful that the introduction of
cards
should appear accidental, and originate in the proposal of my
contemplated
dupe himself. To be brief upon a vile topic, none of the low finesse
was
omitted, so customary upon similar occasions that it is a just matter
for
wonder how any are still found so besotted as to fall its victim.
We had protracted our sitting far
into the night,
and I had at length effected the manœuvre of getting Glendinning as my
sole antagonist. The game, too, was my favorite écarté.
The
rest of the company, interested in the extent of our play, had
abandoned
their own cards, and were standing around us as spectators. The parvenu,
who had been induced by my artifices in the early part of the evening
to
drink deeply, now shuffled, dealt, or played, with a wild nervousness
of
manner for which his intoxication, I thought, might partially, but
could
not altogether account. In a very short period he had become my debtor
to a large amount {{1840-01: of money }}
, when, having taken a long draught of port,
he did precisely what I had been coolly anticipating {{1840-01: , // 1842-02: — }}
he proposed to
double
our already extravagant stakes. With a well-feigned show of reluctance,
and not until after my repeated refusal had seduced him into some angry
words which gave a color of pique to my compliance, did I
finally
comply. The result, of course, did but prove how entirely the prey was
in my toils {{1840-01: — // 1842-02:
; }} in less than a single hour he had quadrupled his
debt.
For
some [page 49:] time his countenance had been
losing
the florid tinge lent it by the wine {{1840-01:
— // 1842-02: ; }} but now, to my astonishment,
I
perceived
that it had grown to a {{1840-01: palor [[sic]]
// 1842-02: pallor }} truly fearful.
I say to my
astonishment.
Glendinning
had been represented to my eager inquiries as immeasurably wealthy; and
the sums which he had as yet lost, although in themselves vast, could
not,
I supposed, very seriously annoy, much less so violently affect him.
That
he was overcome by the wine just swallowed, was the idea which most
readily
presented itself; and, rather with a view to the preservation of my own
character in the eyes of my associates, than from any less interested
motive,
I was about to insist, peremptorily, upon a discontinuance of the play,
when some expressions at my elbow from among the company, and an
ejaculation
evincing utter despair on the part of Glendinning, gave me to
understand
that I had effected his total ruin under circumstances which, rendering
him an object for the pity of all, should have protected him from the
ill
offices even of a fiend.
What now might have been my conduct
it is
difficult
to say. The pitiable condition of my dupe had thrown an air of
embarrassed
gloom over all {{1840-01: , //
1842-02: ; }} and, for some moments, a profound and
unbroken silence
was maintained, during which I could not help feeling my cheeks tingle
with the many burning glances of scorn or reproach cast upon me by the
less abandoned of the party. I will even own that an intolerable weight
of anxiety was for a brief instant lifted from my bosom by the sudden
and
extraordinary [page 50:] interruption which
ensued.
The wide, heavy, folding doors of the apartment were all at once thrown
open, to their full extent, with a vigorous and rushing impetuosity
that
extinguished, as if by magic, every candle in the room. Their light, in
dying, enabled us just to perceive that a stranger had entered, of
about
my own height, and closely muffled in a cloak. The darkness, however,
was
now total; and we could only feel that he was standing in our midst.
Before
any one of us could recover from the extreme astonishment into which
this
rudeness had thrown all, we heard the voice of the intruder.
"Gentlemen," he said, in a low,
distinct, and
never-to-be-forgotten whisper which thrilled to the very marrow
of my
bones,
"Gentlemen,
I make no apology for this behaviour, because in thus behaving I am but
fulfilling a duty. You are, beyond doubt, uninformed of the true
character
of the person who has to-night won at écarté a large sum
of money from Lord Glendinning. I will therefore put you upon an
expeditious
and decisive plan of obtaining this very necessary information. Please
to examine, at your leisure, the inner linings of the cuff of his left
sleeve, and the several little packages which may be found in the
somewhat
capacious pockets of his embroidered morning wrapper."
While he spoke, so profound was the
stillness
that
one might have heard a pin {{1840-01:
dropping // 1842-02: drop }} upon the floor. In
ceasing, he at
once
departed, and as abruptly as he had entered. Can I — shall I describe
my
sensations? {{1840-01: — must //
1842-02: Must }} I say that I felt all the horrors
of the [page
51:] damned? Most assuredly I had little time given for
reflection.
Many hands roughly seized me upon the spot, and lights were immediately
reprocured. A search ensued. In the lining of my sleeve were found all
of the court-cards essential in écarté, and, in the
pockets
of my wrapper, a number of packs, fac-similes of those used at our
sittings,
with the single exception that mine were of the species called,
technically, arrondées; the honors being slightly convex
at the ends,
the lower cards slightly convex at the sides. In this disposition, the
dupe who cuts, as customary, at the breadth of the pack, will
invariably
find that he cuts his antagonist an honor; while the gambler, cutting
at
the length, will, as certainly, cut nothing for his victim which may
count
in the records of the game.
Any outrageous burst of indignation
upon this
shameful
discovery would have affected me less than the silent contempt, or the
sarcastic composure with which it was received.
"Mr. Wilson," said our host, stooping
to remove
from
beneath his feet an exceedingly luxurious cloak of rare furs, "Mr.
Wilson,
this is your property." (The weather was cold; and, upon quitting my
own
room, I had thrown a cloak over my dressing wrapper, putting it off
upon
reaching the scene of play.) "I presume it is supererogatory to seek
here
(eyeing the folds of the garment with a bitter smile), for any farther
evidence of your skill. Indeed we have had enough. You will see the
necessity,
I hope, of [page 52:] quitting Oxford — at all
events,
of quitting, instantly, my chambers."
Abased, humbled to the dust as I then
was, it is
probable that I should have resented this galling language by immediate
personal violence, had not my whole attention been at the moment
arrested,
by a fact of the most startling character. The cloak which I had worn
was
of a rare description of fur; how rare, how extravagantly costly, I
shall
not venture to say. Its fashion, too, was of my own fantastic
invention;
for I was fastidious, to a degree of absurd coxcombry, in matters of
this
frivolous nature. When, therefore, Mr. Preston reached me that which he
had picked up upon the floor, and near the folding doors of the
apartment,
it was with an astonishment nearly bordering upon terror, that I
perceived
my own already hanging on my arm, (where I had no doubt unwittingly
placed
it,) and that the one presented me was but its exact counterpart in
every {{1840-01: ,
in even the minutest possible }} particular. The
singular being who had so
disastrously exposed me, had been muffled, I remembered, in a cloak;
and
none had been worn at all by any of the members of our party with the
exception
of myself. Retaining some presence of mind, I took the one offered me
by
Preston, placed it, unnoticed, over my own, left the apartment with a
resolute
scowl of defiance, and, next morning ere dawn of day, commenced a
hurried
journey from Oxford to the continent, in a perfect agony of horror and
of shame. [page 53:]
I fled in vain. My evil
destiny pursued
me
as if in exultation, and proved, indeed, that the exercise of its
mysterious
dominion had as yet only begun. Scarcely had I set foot in Paris ere I
had fresh evidence of the detestable interest taken by this Wilson in
my
concerns. Years flew, while I experienced no relief. Villain! — at
Rome,
with how untimely, yet with how spectral an officiousness, stepped he
in
between me and my ambition! At Vienna, too, at Berlin, and at Moscow!
Where,
in truth, had I not bitter cause to curse him within my heart?
From his
inscrutable tyranny did I at length flee, panic-stricken, as from a
pestilence;
and to the very ends of the earth I fled in vain.
And again, and again, in secret
communion with my
own spirit, would I demand the questions "Who is he? — whence came he?
— and what are his objects?" But no answer was there found. And now I
scrutinized,
with a minute scrutiny, the forms, and the methods, and the leading
traits
of his impertinent supervision. But even here there was very little
upon
which to base a conjecture. It was noticeable, indeed, that, in no one
of the multiplied instances in which he had of late crossed my path,
had
he so crossed it except to frustrate those schemes, or to disturb those
actions, which, fully carried out, might have resulted in bitter
mischief.
Poor justification this, in truth, for an authority so imperiously
assumed!
Poor indemnity for natural rights of self-agency so pertinaciously, so
insultingly denied!
I had also been forced to notice that
my
tormentor, [page 54:] for a very long period of
time, (while
scrupulously
and with miraculous dexterity maintaining his whim of an identity of
apparel
with myself,) had so contrived it, in the execution of his varied
interference
with my will, that I saw not, at any moment, the features of his face.
Be Wilson what he might, this, at least, was but the veriest of
affectation, or of folly. Could he, for an instant, have supposed that,
in my admonisher at Eton {{1840-01: , //
1842-02: — }} in the destroyer of my honor at Oxford
{{1840-01: , // 1842-02:
— }} in
him
who thwarted my ambition at Rome, my revenge in Paris, my passionate
love
at Naples, or what he falsely termed my avarice in Egypt {{1840-01: , // 1842-02: — }}
that in this,
my arch-enemy and evil genius, I could fail to recognise the William
Wilson
of my schoolboy days {{1840-01: , //
1842-02: — }} the namesake, the companion, the
rival, the
hatred
[[hated]] and dreaded rival at Dr. Bransby's? Impossible! — But let me
hasten to
the last eventful scene of the drama.
Thus far I had succumbed {{1840-01:
supinely }} to
this
imperious
domination. The sentiments of deep awe with which I habitually regarded
the elevated character, the majestic wisdom, the apparent omnipresence
and omnipotence of Wilson, added to a feeling of even terror, with
which
certain other traits in his nature and assumptions inspired me, had
operated,
hitherto, to impress me with an idea of my own utter {{1840-01: weakness and }}
helplessness,
and to suggest an implicit, although bitterly reluctant submission to
his {{1840-01: arbitrary }}
will. But, of late days, I had given myself up entirely to
wine;
and its maddening influence upon my hereditary temper rendered me more [page
55:] and more impatient of
control. I began
to
murmur {{1840-01: , // 1842-02: —
}} to hesitate {{1840-01:
, // 1842-02: — }} to resist. And was it only
fancy which induced me
to believe that, with the increase of my own firmness, that of my
tormentor
underwent a proportional diminution? Be this as it may, I now began to
feel the inspiration of a burning hope, and at length nurtured in my
secret
thoughts a stern and desperate resolution that I would submit no longer
to be enslaved.
It was at Rome, during the carnival
of 18 —,
that
I attended a masquerade in the palazzo of the Neapolitan Duke Di
Broglio.
I had indulged more freely than usual in the excesses of the
wine-table;
and now the suffocating atmosphere of the crowded rooms irritated me
beyond
endurance. The difficulty, too, of forcing my way through the mazes of
the company contributed not a little to the ruffling of my temper; for
I was anxiously seeking, let me not say with what unworthy motive, the
young, the gay, the beautiful wife of the aged and doting Di Broglio.
With
a too unscrupulous confidence she had previously communicated to me the
secret of the costume in which she would be habited, and now, having
caught
a glimpse of her person, I was hurrying to make my way into her
presence.
At this moment I felt a light hand placed upon my shoulder, and that
ever-remembered,
low, damnable whisper within my ear.
In a perfect whirlwind of wrath, I
turned at once
upon him who had thus interrupted me, and seized him violently by the
collar.
He was attired, as I [page 56:] had expected, like
myself; wearing a large Spanish cloak, and a mask of black silk which
entirely
covered his features.
"Scoundrel!" I said, in a voice husky
with rage,
while every syllable I uttered seemed as new fuel to my fury,
"scoundrel!
impostor! accursed villain! you shall not — you shall not dog
me
unto death! Follow me, or I stab you where you stand," and I broke my
way
from the room into a small ante-chamber adjoining, dragging him
unresistingly
with me as I went.
Upon entering, I thrust him furiously
from me. He
staggered against the wall, while I closed the door with an oath, and
commanded
him to draw. He hesitated but for an instant {{1840-01:
, // 1842-02: ; }} then, with a slight sigh,
drew in silence, and put himself upon his defence.
The contest was brief indeed. I was
frantic with
every species of wild excitement, and felt within my single arm the
energy
and the power of a multitude. In a few seconds I forced him by sheer
strength
against the wainscoting, and thus, getting him at mercy, plunged my
sword,
with brute ferocity, repeatedly through and through his bosom.
At this instant some person tried the
latch of
the
door. I hastened to prevent an intrusion, and then immediately returned
to my dying antagonist. But what human language can adequately portray that
astonishment, that horror which
possessed me at the
spectacle
then presented to view {{1840-01: . //
1842-02: ? }} The brief moment in which I averted my
eyes had
been sufficient to produce, apparently, a material change in the
arrangements [page 57:] at the upper or farther end
of the room.
A large mirror, {{1840-01: it appeared to
me // 1842-02: (so at first it appeared to me in my confusion) }}
, now stood where none had been
perceptible
before; and, as I stepped up to it in extremity of terror, mine own
image,
but with features all pale and dabbled in blood, advanced, with a
feeble
and tottering gait, to meet me.
Thus it appeared, I say, but was not.
It was my
antagonist
— it was Wilson, who then stood before me in the agonies of his
dissolution.
Not {{1842-02: thread in all the raiment
— not }} a line in all the marked and singular
lineaments of that face which
was not, even identically, {{1840-01:
mine own! // 1842-02: mine own! }} His
mask and cloak lay where he
had
thrown them, upon the floor.
It was Wilson {{1840-01: , //
1842-02: ; }} but he spoke no longer
in a
whisper {{1840-01: , // 1842-02:
; }}
and I could have fancied that I myself was speaking while he said —
"You have conquered, and I yield.
Yet {{1840-01: , }} henceforward
art thou also dead — dead to the world and its hopes. In me didst thou
exist — and, in my death, see by this image, which is thine own, how
utterly
thou hast murdered thyself." |
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