[11] Portals of the Saloon The Gallery looks very solitary
now poor Louisa is away You cannot imagine the solemn appearance
of the Hall with its expiring Lamps towards midnight I often
fancy myself in the Catacombs of Egypt and expect to stumble over
a Mummy. What rare Mummies certain people of our acquaintance
would make! I long to stop their mouths with spice and swaddle them
up, beyond the power of doing mischief. I beg you will give my best
Compliments to Lord Ar: and assure him I shall ever retain the most
grateful sense of the kind interest he is pleased to take in me. I
hope we shall soon meet in town and that you will ever believe me
sinc:y and affec:y Yrs. W. Beckford
[12] Fonthill December 4th 1778
being the full of the Moon.
The Dusk approaches. I am musing on the Plain before the House which
my Father reared. No chearful illuminations appear in the Windows,
no sounds of Musick issue from the Porticos, no gay Revellers rove
carelessly along the Colonades; but all is dark, silent and abandoned.
Such circumstances sooth the present tone of my mind. Did I
behold a number of brilliant Equipages rattling across the Lawn, or
hear the confused buzz of animated Conversation; Were a peal of Laughter
to meet my Ears or were they assaulted by shouts of hilarity and Joy
should I not fly to the woods for consolation and bury myself in their
gloom to enjoy Solitude in security. You are the human Being to whom
I have discovered the strangeness of my fancies; for you can feel,
as well as myself, the melancholy pleasures of wandering alone in
the Dusk over Plains of greenswerd, bordered on one side by Hills
of Oaks and on the other by a broad River whose opposite Shore presents
distant Glens and pastures, wild Copses and Groves of pines to which
the Twilight gives an additional Solemnity. I surveyed my [13] native
prospects with fraternal affection and looked fondly on every tree
as if we had been born in the same hour. The Air I breathed seemed
nearer of Kin to me than that I had elsewhere respired in short the
Hills, the Woods, the Shrubs, the very Moss beneath my Feet entered
into this general Alliance and I fancied myself surrounded by an assembly
of my best Friends and nearest Relations. Of what other Company then
could I be ambitious? This was the spot, methought, as I looked on
a round of Turf peculiarly green [and so sheltered by Banks and Shrubberies
as to produce Violets even in this bleak Month] this was the spot
perhaps where my Guardian Genius first spread over my infant Years
the wings of protection. That round of Turf those flowers sprang from
the benign influence of his approach and I shall ever regard them
as memorials of his presence. The airy People who watch over Flowers
beheld him ascend and willing to commemorate the Event have sprinkled
the Turf he selected with the purest Dew, therefore it is green, therefore
perfumed with Violets. An hour glided swiftly away whilst I was lost
in these agreeable Dreams, the Moon began to brighten at the approach
of Night and the Evening Star beamed brilliantly above a lonely Chapel
where many repose in Death. I listened to every [14] wild Note that
trembled in the Winds and whilst I was leaning against an Oak, a faint
murmur from afar off stole upon my ear. Soon I distinguished a flight
of Rocks rising like Motes on the Horizon. In In an instant they spread
over the Sky and poising themselves above the River were joined by
another host shooting rapidly from the West. Now enlarging their Circles
and taking a bolder Sweep, the whole Heaven was in motion with innumerable
wings. The rush of their flight and the continual cawing with
which they filled the Air interested me beyond conception. How earnestly
did I wish for the Talisman of Lockhart that I might address myself
to these winged Legions and ask them from whence they came. Over what
Woods have ye flown? I should say. Tell one what Scenes ye have surveyed?
Communicate to me your joy at returning every night to those Cities
in the Groves formed amongst innumerable Boughs where ye employ so
well your ingenuity. Did I behold them with your eyes, each branch
would seem the Pillar of a Palace and every crooked Twig a stately
Ornament. Tell me if the tufts of Moss on Yonder grotesque Oak stumps
are not boasted of by your Nobles as hangings of goodlie Arras and
those hollow Cavities beneath in the Tree, are they not regarded by
your Poets as aweful Caverns where many adventures have happened to
Rooks of yore. Perhaps ye have also your superstitious Fears and [15]
when warmly established in your nests relate what Spectres have haunted
the Beechroots so far below and croak forth the prophecies your
ancestors heard issuing from bowers of Ivy; for are not these green
festoons that flourish in spite of Winter your consecrated Bowers?
Confess to me if strange Rites are not often performed in them which
heretical squirrels disturb and despise. Ah would I were acquainted
with that mysterious Word, by pronouncing of which ancient Brachmans
transported their Souls into the bodies of other Animals. Then would
I rise with ye into the air and share the charms and the perils of
your Enterprizes. Then should I experience the pleasure of floating
amongst Clouds and the triumph of looking down on the World beneath
I should glory in directing the flight of thousands, above precipices
and rivers, to Wilds where the ripest berries glow on the Sprays and
how great would be my exultations, when I found myself returning in
a still Evening like this with innumerable friends all chearfully
conversing together all smoothly waving our Wings and vying with each
other in the ease and rapidity of our motions. And when all my Companions
are sunk into repose may I be that Rook, destined to watch over the
general security, who sails, alone thro the skies by Moon light and
dares view those Owls the Sorcerers of the feathered [16] kind, whose
shriek is alone sufficient to scare the bravest that lift the Wing.
I had scarce ended my soliloquy before the sky was almost intirely
deserted. Here and there indeed some solitary Rooks, who for reasons
unknown to me had deserted the throng hastened once more with faint
cawings to rejoin them and before I can write this are all hushed
amongst the Oaks in profound tranquility. Soon after I left my tree
and directed my steps homewards. The Bats flit frequently before me
and many an Owl, according to the mythology of Birds, quitted his
haunt and hastened to perform incantations.
I then ascended the steps which lead to a vast hall paved with Marble
and seating myself, like the Orientals on Cushions of Brocade placed
by a blazing fire was served with Tea and a species of white bread
which has crossed the Atlantic. Meanwhile my thoughts were
wandering into the interior of Africa and dwelt for hours on those
Countries I love. Strange tales of Mount Atlas and relations of Travellers
amused my fancy. One instant I imagined myself viewing the
marble palaces of Ethiopean princes seated on the green woody margin
of Lakes, studded in sands and wildernesses, the next transported
me to the Rocks of Carena where Monks strove vainly to preserve Rugiero
from the Perils of War. Some few minutes after I found [17]
myself standing before a thick wood listening to impetuous Water falls
and screened from the ardour of the Sun by its foliage. I was wondering
at the scene when a tall lonely Negro wound along the slopes of the
Hills and without moving his lips made me comprehend I was in Africa,
on the brink of the Nile beneath the Mountain of Amara. I followed
his steps thro an infinity of irregular Vales, all skirted with Rocks
and blooming with an aromatic vegetation, till we arrived at the hallowed
Peak and after exploring a Labyrinth of paths, which led to its summit,
a wide Cavern appeared before us. Here I surveyed Landscapes of the
most romantic Cast, tasted such Fruits and scented such perfumes as
ravished my senses. I was all Delight and amazement. We entered the
Cavern and fell prostrate before the sacred source of the Nile which
issues silently from a Deep Gulph in the Rock. Suddenly the spirit
of Father Ureta rose like a mist from the Chasm and seizing me with
its influence, discovered the interior of the Cave ascended thro the
Mountain and brought me swiftly to a Castle with many towers of grotesque
Architecture. There I saw huge treasures and crowds of unknown Mortals
walking in vaulted Halls whose stately arches impressed Veneration.
Here were deposited ancient records and [18] and Histories of which
the rest of Men are ignorant, poems sung by the Choirs of Paradise
and Volumes which contain the sage Councils of Abraham delivered by
that Patriarch in the plains of Mamre. Busy multitudes are continually
shifting from Place to Place; but before I could notice their Occupations,
the spirit snatched me away with such inconceivable rapidity that
I knew not how I was conveyed to a smooth Lawn circled by Rocks and
falling streams mingled with Woods and hanging Meadows where Leopards
and Antelopes browzed fearless together and Birds justly denominated
of Paradise fluttered round the flowers, whilst the Phnix such
as Poets describe soared into the blue Ether and glistened in every
beam. A bright Sun shining full on the glowing Colours of the Scene
oerpowerd my sight and obliged me to seek the Woods whose shade
and Fragrance delighted me beyond conception; but I was not long suffered
to enjoy them. Some irresistable Impulse drove me to the extremity
of the Lawn, where I recoiled with Horror and Amazement at the sight
of a precipice whose Basis seemed to rest on the surface of our Globe.
A faint blueish Mist veiled the Seas and Continents and it was in
vain that I strove to distinguish the Mountains from the plains or
the Lakes from the Valleys. The Spirit skimmed by me once more like
a transitory [19] breeze and after hovering for some moments round
the nearest pinnacle of Rocks stood calmly at my side. Thou art gazing,
whispered this airy voice, at the fortunate Mountains of Paradise.
Those Groves, those woody Vales afforded a retreat to the first of
Men. That very herbage was the bed on which he reposed. The
stately birds that move around us once held familiar converse with
him and still mourn the moment when fiery Seraphims drove him trembling
down yonder declivities no more to taste these clear fountains or
sleep in his native Bowers, the Regions of perpetual spring where
all the dreams of inspired Bards are realized. I would tell thee more,
but mark how the World below fades gradually on the sight, the Seas
and Rivers begin to glimmer thro the Dusk and catch a faint beam of
the rising Moon. The moment is drawing near when thy stay is unlawful
and prophane. This bright light will soon yield to a silver Dawn and
during these consecrated hours the spirits of holy prophets descend
and converse of Men. I was once a Mortal: my affections still
hover round the Globe and it is with impatience I wait the period
when we are permitted to discourse on earthly subjects. That period
will soon arrive; for hark the Angels who direct our planet are beginning
their nightly hymn. Behold how the [20]
Clouds
fleet that waft them above the Poles. Listen! their Carol is echoed
by the Mountains, it sounds amongst the spheres. Hark it is
answered by the Guardians of the Moon, faint very faint is their melody.
how it dies away amongst distant Worlds! The Spirit
ceased. My soul was thrilled with the cælestial Choirs.
A fresh wind waved all the Trees and riffled the Herbage and in an
instant Myriads of lovely forms glanced amongst the woods. Methought
I heard the Voices of departed Friends and tried to spring towards
the Meads whence the sounds proceeded; but the Breezes that swept
along the Lawn were far too pure for my mortal frame. I trembled,
my heart beat, my Arteries throbbed, in vain I attempted to join the
beckoning shades, some dreadful pressure chained me to the ground,
in vain I called to those I loved, my lamentations and loud Cries
were lost in the gales. How many times did I stretch forth my Arms
and attempt advancing all my endeavours were fruitless and
unable to struggle more I sunk beneath my sorrow and beating my breast
exclaimed Ah would that I might die! At length I found
myself released and with a violent effort ran or rather flew upon
the Lawn; but as I advanced the Forms retreated a confused murmur
of Rills, of Voices, and of Instruments fled before me, the Rocks,
the Woods,
[CONTINUED]