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The Adventures of Hugh Trevor

T >> Thomas Holcroft >> The Adventures of Hugh Trevor




Transfixed with horror as I was, I still had the recollection to
conceal the paper from the eye of Miss Wilmot, and that instant to go
in quest of the body. The utmost speed and diligence were necessary;
she must soon hear of the fatal event, and it was much to be dreaded
that this would not be the last act of the tragedy.

According to the indication given in the paper, I went immediately
to the watch-house; but was surprised to find that the body was not
there. They had heard something of a man throwing himself into the
Serpentine river, but could give no farther information.

I then ran to every bone-house and receptacle in the various adjoining
parishes; but without success. The only intelligence I could obtain
was that the gentleman, who leaped in after the man in order to have
saved his life, had taken the body home with him; but no one could
direct me where he lived.

The circumstance was distracting! My terrors for Miss Wilmot
increased. I knew not what course to pursue. At last I recollected
that Turl, from having lived some years in London being acquainted
with the manners of the place and possessing great sagacity, might
perhaps afford me aid. Personal knowledge of Wilmot he probably had
none, for he quitted the grammar school at *** just before Wilmot
became its head usher. But I knew not what better to do, and to this,
as a kind of last hope, I resorted, and hastened away to his lodgings.

It may well be supposed my tone of mind was gloomy. For a man like
Wilmot, with virtues so eminent, sensations so acute, and a mind so
elevated, to be thus impelled to seek a refuge in death was a thought
that almost made me hate existence myself, and doubt whether I might
not hereafter be driven to the same desperate expedient, to escape the
odious injustice of mankind. The distraction too which would seize
on Miss Wilmot haunted my thoughts; for I was convinced that the
intelligence, whenever it should reach her, would prove fatal.

Full of these dismal reflections, I arrived at the door of Turl,
knocked, and was desired to come in. Turl rose as I entered, and with
him a stranger, who had been seated by his side. A stranger, and yet
with features that were not wholly unknown to me. He seemed surprised
at the sight of me, examined me, fixed his eyes on me! Memory was very
busy! Associating ideas poured upon me! I gazed! I remembered! Heavens
and earth! What was my astonishment, what were my transports, when
in this very stranger I discovered Mr. Wilmot? Living! Pale, meagre,
dejected, and much altered; but living!

Turl was the gentleman in the park, who had observed the deep
melancholy visible in his countenance; had fortunately suspected
his intention; had brought him out of the water; had discovered
favourable symptoms; and, instead of either taking him home or to
the watch-house, had conveyed him to St. George's hospital; where he
immediately obtained medical aid, that had preserved his life! Turl
was the person whose courage, humanity, and wisdom, had prolonged
the existence of a man of genius; and who was now exerting all his
faculties to render that existence happy to the possessor, and
beneficial to the human race! Oh moment of inconceivable rapture! Why
are not sensations so exquisite eternal?




CHAPTER IX


_I secure Miss Wilmot against the danger of false alarm, and return to
hear the history of her brother_


Eager as I was to contribute all in my power to tranquilize the mind
of Mr. Wilmot, to renew my friendship with him, and to learn his
history from himself, I yet made but a short stay, and hastened home
to his sister. Fortunately the tragic tale had not reached her; and,
without relating circumstances that if abruptly told might have
excited alarm, I informed her that I had that moment parted from him,
and that now I had found him I should use my utmost endeavour to
reconcile him to her once more.

To hear that he was still in being gave an undescribable relief to her
mind. It beamed in her countenance, and called up thoughts that soon
made her burst into tears.

Having by this information, secured her against the ill effects which
might otherwise have followed, I escaped further question from her for
the present, by truly telling her I was impatient to return to her
brother.

I found the two friends still conversing for friends and sincere ones
they were become. The account given by Wilmot of himself had been
taken and sent to the newspaper, without the knowledge of Turl; but he
had read it, and it was a sufficient index of the mind of the writer:
and the behaviour of Turl through the whole affair, as well as the
sentiments he uttered in every breath, were enough to convince Mr.
Wilmot of his uncommon worth.

On my return, the latter was defending the right of man to commit
suicide; which Turl denied; not on the false and untenable ground of
superstition, but from the only true argument, the immoral tendency of
the act. He was delicate though decisive in his opposition; and only
requested Mr. Wilmot to consider, whether to effect the good of the
whole be not the true purpose of virtue? Ought not the good of the
whole therefore to be its only rule and guide? If so, can the man,
who possesses that degree of activity without which he cannot commit
suicide, be incapable of being farther useful to society?

Depressed and gloomy as his state of mind was, Mr. Wilmot testified
great satisfaction at our rencontre; and the interest which I
unfeignedly took in his welfare soon revived all his former affection
for me. My veneration for his virtues, love for his genius, and pity
for his misfortunes, tended to calm his still fluttering and agitated
spirits. Unfortunate as he himself had been, or at least had thought
himself, in his love of literature and poetry, it yet gave him
pleasure to find that the same passion was far from having abated
in me. He called it a bewitching illusion; Turl affirmed it was a
beneficial and noble propensity of soul.

We none of us had a wish to separate, for the imagination of each was
teeming with that sedate yet full flow of sentiment which, as Milton
has so beautifully described, melancholy can give. Mr. Wilmot had
supposed his sister was guilty with the bishop; and when I told her
story, with the addition of such probable circumstances as I myself
had collected, it afforded him very considerable relief to find that
the suspicions to which appearances gave birth had been false.

I did not conceal the desire I had to know by what train of accidents
he had been led into a state of such deep despondency; and he thus
kindly gratified my wish.


HISTORY OF MR. WILMOT

'The narrative given by my sister, which you, Mr. Trevor, have already
repeated, precludes the necessity of any detail concerning my origin.
Nor is origin in my opinion of the least moment, except as it displays
the habits and growth of mind, and shews how the man became such
as we find him to be. At what period of my existence that activity
of inquiry, and those energetic aspirings began, which to me were
afterward the source of the extremes of joy and sorrow, I cannot tell;
but I believe the quality of ardour, though probably not born with us,
is either awakened in early infancy or seldom if ever attains strength
and maturity. I could not only read with uncommon accuracy and ease,
while very young, but can remember I made efforts to reason with my
father, the major, on what I read, when I was little more than six
years old.

'He, though a man rather of irritable feelings than profound research,
was not destitute of literature; and encouraged a propensity in me
that was flattering to himself, as the father of a boy remarked
for his promising talents; which talents he supposed might lead to
distinctions that he had been unsuccessfully ambitious to obtain.

'He considered himself as one of the most unfortunate of men.
Imagining personal bravery to be the essence of the military
character, he had eagerly cherished that quality; and, having given
incontestible proofs that he possessed it in an eminent degree, to be
afterward overlooked was, in his judgment, too flagrant an instance of
public as well as private ingratitude to be ever pardoned. It was the
daily subject of his thoughts, and theme of his discourse; and I have
great reason to conjecture that the habitual discontent that preyed
upon his mind, and embittered his life, especially the latter part of
it, communicated itself to me. I was educated in the belief that the
world is blind to merit, continually suffers superior virtue to linger
in indigence and neglect, and is therefore an odious, unjust, and
despicable world.

'I own I have at some few intervals doubted of this doctrine; and
supposed in conformity to your opinion, Mr. Turl, that failure is
rather the consequence of our own mistakes, impatience, and efforts
ill directed, than of society: but the ill success of my own efforts,
aided perhaps by the prejudices which I received from my father,
have preponderated; and made me it may be too frequently incline to
melancholy, and misanthropy. What can be said? Are not the rich and
powerful continually oppressing talents, genius, and virtue? Is the
general sense of mankind just in its decisions?

'Beside, an appeal to the general sense of mankind is not always
in our power; and that the proceedings of individuals are often
flagrantly unjust cannot be denied. In the school where I was educated
I was a frequent and painful witness of honours partially bestowed;
and prizes and applause awarded to others, that were indubitably due
to me. When the rich and the powerful visited the seminary, the sons
of the rich and the powerful gained all their attention. Conscious as
I could not but be of my own superior claims, I was overlooked!

'Perhaps I felt the repetition of these and similar acts of injustice
too severely. Yet, are they not odious? I own the remembrance of them
ever has been, and is, intensely painful; and the pain is almost
unremittingly prolonged by what every man, who is not wilfully blind,
must daily see passing in the world. [Mr. Wilmot sighed deeply] Well
well! Would I could forget it!

'After many a bitter struggle in my boyish years to rise into notice,
few, very few indeed, of which were effectual, I still continued the
combat. In due time, as I was told, my efforts were amply rewarded!
But how? Instead of being forwarded in those more noble and beneficial
pursuits for which I think I had proved myself fitted, the effusions
of genius though known were never once remembered. Oh, no! I obtained,
with great difficulty and as an unmerited favour a charitable
condescension of power that knew not very well if it ought to be so
kind to a being so unprotected, yes, I obtained--the office of usher!
The honour of mechanically hearing declensions, conjugations, and
rules of syntax and prosody, repeated by beings who detested the
labour to which they were compelled, was conferred upon me! beings who
looked on me, not as a benefactor, but as a tyrant! And tyrants all
teachers indubitably are, under our present modes of education.

'Humbled and cowed as my genius was, by the drudgery and obscurity
to which it was consigned, I yet had the courage to continue those
labours by which alone mind is brought to maturity. Alive as I was to
a sense of injustice, I recollected that, even if my powers were equal
to all that I myself had fondly hoped from them, there were examples
of men with at least equal powers, who had been equally ill treated.
Equally did I say? Oh Otway! Oh Chatterton! What understandings, what
hearts, had those men who without an effort, without moving a finger
(not to do you justice, of that they were incapable, but) to preserve
you from famine, could suffer you to perish? It was needless to
repine! I consoled and reconciled myself to my fate as well as I was
able. I pursued my studies, read the poets of ancient and modern times
with unabating avidity, observed the actions and inquired into the
motives of men, and made unceasing attempts to develope the human
heart.

'Excluded as it were by the pride, luxury, and caprice of the world
from expanding my sensations, and wedding my soul to society, I was
constrained to bestow the strong affections that glowed consciously
within me upon a few. My mother and sister had a large share of them.
To skreen them from the indigence, obscurity, and neglect, to which
without my aid they must be doomed, was a hope that encouraged me in
the bold project I had conceived.

'I determined to dedicate myself to literature, poetry, and
particularly to the stage. Essays of the dramatic kind indeed had been
made by me very early. At length, I undertook a tragedy; as a work
which, if accomplished with the degree of perfection that I hoped it
would be, must at once establish my true rank in society, relieve the
wants of my family, and be a passport for me to every man of worth
and understanding in the world. How little did I know the world! Fond
fool! Over credulous idiot! What cares the world for the toils and
struggles, the restless days and sleepless nights of the man of
genius! I am ashamed to think I could be so miserably mistaken!

'The ardour with which I began my work, the deep consideration I gave
to every character, the strong emotions I felt while composing it,
the minute attention I paid to all its parts, and the intense labour
I bestowed in planning, writing, correcting, and completing it, were
such as I believed must insure success.

'Surely mankind can be but little aware of the uncommon anxieties,
pains, and talents that must contribute to the production of such
a work; or their reception of it, when completed, would be very
different! They would not suffer, surely they would not, as they so
frequently do, this or that senseless blockhead to frustrate the
labour of years, blast the poet's hopes, and render the birth of
genius abortive!

'My tragedy at length was written; and by some small number, whose
judgment I consulted, was approved: never indeed with that enthusiasm
which I, perhaps the overweening author, imagined it must have
excited; but it was approved. "I was a young man of some merit; it
was more than they had expected." Nay, I have met with some liberal
critics, who have appeared modestly to doubt whether they themselves
should have written better!

'Before I made the experiment, I had supposed that every man, whose
wealth or power gave him influence in society, would start up, the
moment it was known that an obscure individual, the usher of a school,
had written a tragedy; not only to protect and produce it to the
world, but to applaud and honour the author! Would secure him from
the possibility of want, load him with every token of respect,
and affectionately clasp him to their bosom! The indifference and
foolish half-faced kind of wonder, as destitute of feeling as of
understanding, with which it was received, by the persons on whom I
had depended for approbation and support, did more than astonish me;
it pained, disgusted, and jaundiced my mind!

'The only consolation I could procure was in supposing that the
inhabitants of the city were I resided, were deficient in literary
taste; and that at a more polished place, where knowledge, literature,
and poetry were more diffused, I should meet a very different
reception. Experience only can cure the unhackneyed mind of its
erroneous estimates!

'London however and its far famed theatres were the objects at which
my ambition long had aimed; and thither after various doubts and
difficulties it was decreed I should go. The profits of my place I had
dedicated to the relief of my family, and my mother's great fear was
that, going up to London so ill provided, I should perish there for
want. Of this I was persuaded there could be no danger, and at length
prevailed.

'The danger however was not quite so imaginary as I in the fervour of
hope had affirmed it to be. The plan I proposed was to get another
usher's place, in or near town, till I could bring my piece upon the
stage. This I attempted, and made various applications, which all
failed; some because, though I understood Greek, I could not teach
merchant's accounts, or spoil paper by flourishes and foppery, which
is called writing a fine hand; and others because, as I suppose,
persons offered themselves whose airs, or humility, or other
usher-like qualifications, that had no relation to learning, pleased
their employers better than mine.

'I soon grew weary of these degrading attempts and turned my
thoughts to a more attractive resource. While in the country, I had
frequently sent little fugitive pieces, to be inserted in periodical
publications; and now, on inquiry, I found there were people who were
paid for such productions. I made the experiment; and after a variety
of fruitless efforts succeeded in obtaining half a guinea a week
from an evening paper; which I supplied with essays, little poetical
pieces, and other articles, much faster than they chose to print them.

'In the interim, the grand object for which I had left the country
was not neglected. It is a common mistake to imagine that, to get a
piece upon the stage, it is necessary to procure a patron, by whom it
shall be recommended. To this I was advised; and, in consequence of
this advice, wrote letters to three different persons, whose rank in
society I imagined would insure a reception at the theatre to the
piece which they should protect. I supposed that every such person,
who should hear of a poet who had written a tragedy, would rejoice in
the opportunity of affording him aid, and instantly stand forth his
patron.

'In this spirit I wrote my three letters; and received no answer to
any one of them! Amazed at this, I went to the houses of the great
people I had addressed; but my face was unknown! Not one of them was
at home! I could gain no admission! When now and then suffered to wait
in the hall, I saw dancing-masters, buffoons, gamblers, beings of
every species that could mislead the head and corrupt the heart, come
and go without ceremony; but to a poet all entrance was denied; for
such chosen society he was unfit. The very rabble, with which these
pillared lounging places swarm, looked on him with a suspicious and
half contemptuous eye; that insolently inquired what business had he
there? Were the slaves and menials of Mæcenas such? Was it thus at the
Augustan court; when the lord of the conquered world sat banqueting
with Virgil on his right hand and Horace on his left?

'Why did I read and remember stories so seductive? Why did I foolishly
place all my happiness in the approbation of the great vulgar or
the small; forgetting that approbation neither adds to virtue nor
diminishes? Perhaps, and indeed I fear, my mind was warped. Yet surely
the neglect and even odium in which the unobtruding man of genius is
at present overwhelmed, is a damning accusation against the rich and
titled great.

'It was long however before I entirely disdained these abject and
fruitless efforts. On one occasion I was fortunate enough, as I
absurdly thought, to get introduced to a Marquis. It was an awful
honour, to which I was unused; and instead of addressing him with the
frothy and impertinent levity which characterized his own manners,
and which he encouraged in the creatures that were admitted to his
familiarity, I stood confounded, expecting he should have read my
play, which I had transcribed for his perusal, have understood the
value of the poet who could write it, and have been anxious to relieve
that acuteness of sensibility which overclouded and hid the man of
genius in the timid, abashed, and too cowardly author. He spoke to me
indeed, nay condescended to repeat two or three of the newest literary
anecdotes that had been retailed to him from the blue-stocking-club,
and then civilly dismissed me to give audience to a Dutch
bird-fancier, who had brought him a piping bulfinch. But I saw him no
more, he was never afterward at home. I was one of a class of animals
that a Marquis never admits into his collection. My tragedy when
applied for by letter was returned; with "sorrow that indispensible
engagements had prevented him from reading it; but requested a copy as
soon as it should appear in print." For which, should such a strange
event have come to pass, I suppose I should have been insulted with
the gift perhaps of one guinea, perhaps of five. And thus a Marquis
discharged a duty which his rank and power so well enabled him to
perform! But, patience! The word poet shall be remembered with
everlasting honour, when the title Marquis shall--Pshaw!

'On another occasion an actress, who, strange to tell, happened very
deservedly to be popular, and whom before she arrived at the dignity
of a London theatre I had known in the country, recommended me to a
dutchess. To this dutchess I went day after day; and day after day
was subjected for hours to the prying, unmannered, insolence of her
countless lacquies. This time she was not yet stirring, though it was
two o'clock in the afternoon; the next she was engaged with an Italian
vender of artificial flowers; the day after the prince and the devil
does not know who beside were with her; and so on, till patience and
spleen were at daggers drawn.

'At last, from the hall I was introduced to the drawing-room, where I
was half amazed to find myself. Could it be real? Should I, after all,
see a creature so elevated; so unlike the poor compendium of flesh and
blood with which I crawled about the earth? Why, it was to be hoped
that I should!

'Still she did not come; and I stood fixed, gazing at the objects
around me, longer perhaps than I can now well guess. The carpet was so
rich that I was afraid my shoes would disgrace it! The chairs were so
superb that I should insult them by sitting down! The sofas swelled
in such luxurious state that for an author to breathe upon them would
be contamination! I made the daring experiment of pressing with a
single finger upon the proud cushion, and the moment the pressure was
removed it rose again with elastic arrogance; an apt prototype of the
dignity it was meant to sustain.--Though alone, I blushed at my own
littleness!

'Two or three times, the familiars of the mansion skipped and glided
by me; in at this door and out at that; seeing yet not noticing me. It
was well they did not, or I should have sunk with the dread of being
mistaken for a thief; that had gained a furtive entrance, to load
himself with some parcel of the magnificence that to poverty appeared
so tempting!

'This time however I was not wholly disappointed: I had a sight of
the dutchess, or rather a glimpse. "Her carriage was waiting. She had
been so infinitely delayed by my lord and my lady, and his highness,
and Signora! Was exceedingly sorry! Would speak to me another time,
to-morrow at three o'clock, but had not a moment to spare at present",
and so vanished!

'Shall I say she treated me proudly, and made me feel my
insignificance? No. The little that she did say was affable; the tone
was conciliating, the eye encouraging, and the countenance expressed
the habitual desire of conferring kindness. But these were only
aggravating circumstances, that shewed the desirableness of that
intercourse which to me was unattainable. I say to me, for those who
had a less delicate sense of propriety, who were more importunate,
more intruding, and whose forehead was proof against repulse, were
more successful. By such people she was besieged; on such she lavished
her favours, till report said that she impoverished herself; for a
tale of distress, whether feigned or real, if obtruded upon her, she
knew not how to resist.

'What consolation was this to me? I was not of the begging tribe. I
came with a demand at sight upon the understanding, which whoever
refused to pay disgraced themselves rather than the drawer.

'She mistook my character, and the next day at three o'clock, instead
of seeing me herself, sent me ten guineas in a note, by her French
maitre d'hotel; which chinked as they slided from side to side, and
proclaimed me a pauper! My heart almost burst with indignation! Yet,
coward that I was! I wanted the fortitude to refuse the polluted
paper! I thought it would be an affront, and still fed myself with the
vain hope of procuring from her that countenance to my own labours
which I imagined they deserved, and which therefore I did not think it
any disgrace to solicit. The disgrace of reducing men of merit to such
humiliating situations was not mine.

'I went twice more; and was both times interrogated in French, by
the insolent maitre d'hotel, so as to convince me that he thought my
coming again so soon was a proof of no common degree of impudence.

'Oh Euripides! Oh Sophocles! Did not your sublime shades glide
wrathful by and menace the wretch in whom your divine art had been so
degraded? How did I pray, as I passed the scowling porter, for the
death of your great predecessor; that some eagle would drop a tortoise
on my head, and instantly crush me to atoms!

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