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Файл:Satanstoe; or, The Littlepage Manuscripts
.pdf
SATANSTOE; OR, THE LITTLEPAGE MANUSCRIPTS
he attached to the answer. «I wish to know that particularly,
before I go away!»
«Young man», answered the fortune-teller in an oracular
manner; «what has been said, has been said! I cannot make
fortunes, but only reveal them. You have heard that Dutch
blood is in your veins; but you live in an English colony. Your
king is her king; while she is your queen – and you are not
her master. If you can fi nd a woman of English blood that has
a Dutch heart, and has no English suitors, go forward, and you
will succeed; but, if you do not, remain as you are until time
shall end. These are my words, and these are my thoughts;
I can say no more».
I heard Dirck sigh – poor fellow! he was thinking of Anneke – and he passed through the outer room without once
raising his eyes from the fl oor. He left Mother Doortje, as much
depressed in spirits, as Jason had left her elated; the one looking
forward to the future with a selfi sh and niggardly hope, while
the other regarded it with a feeling as forlorn as the destruction of all his youthful fancies could render any view of his
after-life. The reader may feel disposed to smile at the idea of
Dirck Van Valkenburgh’s possessing youthful fancies – regarding the young man in the quiet, unassuming manner in
which he has hitherto been portrayed by me; but it would be
doing great injustice to his heart and feelings, to fi gure him to
the mind, as a being without deep sensibilities. I have always
supposed that this interview with Mother Doortje had a lasting infl uence on the fortunes of poor Dirck; nor am I at all
certain its effects did not long linger in the temperament of
some others that might be named.
371
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
As our turns had now come, we were summoned to
the presence of this female soothsayer. It is unnecessary to
describe the apartment in which we found Mother Doortje.
It had nothing unusual in it, with the exception of a raven,
that was hopping about the fl oor, and which appeared to
be on the most familiar terms with its mistress. Doortje, herself, was a woman of quite sixty, wrinkled, lean, and hag-like;
and, I thought, some care had been taken, in her dress, to increase the effect of this, certainly her natural appearance. Her
cap was entirely of black muslin; though her dress itself, was
grey. The eye of this woman was of the colour of her gown; and
it was penetrating, restless, and deep-seated. Altogether, she
looked the character well.
On our entrance, after saluting the fortune-teller, each of
us laid a French crown on the table at which she was seated. This coin had become quite current among us, since
the French troops had penetrated into our colony; and it was
even said they purchased supplies with it, from certain of our
own people. As we had paid the highest price ever given, for
these glimpses into futurity, we thought ourselves entitled to
have the pages of the sealed book freely opened to us.
«Do you wish to see me together; or shall I communicate
with one at a time?» demanded Doortje, in her husky, sepulchral voice; which, it struck me, obtained its peculiar tones
partly from nature, and partly from art.
It was settled that she should commence with Mr. Worden; but, that all might remain in the room the whole time.
While we were talking over this point, Doortje’s eyes were by
no means fi xed, but, I remarked, that they wandered from per-
372
SATANSTOE; OR, THE LITTLEPAGE MANUSCRIPTS
son to person; like those of one who was gathering information. Many persons do not believe, at all, in the art of the fortune-teller; but insist that there is nothing more in it than
trick and management; pretending that this very woman kept
the blacks of the town in pay, to bring her information; and
that she never told anything of the past, which was true, that
had not been previously communicated to herself. I shall not
pretend to affi rm that the art goes as far as many imagine; but,
it strikes me, that it is very presuming, to deny that there is
some truth in these matters. I do not wish to appear credulous;
though, at the same time, I hold it to be wrong to deny our
testimony to facts that we are convinced are true.
29
Doortje commenced by shuffl ing an exceedingly dirty
pack of cards; which had probably been used fi ve hundred
times, on similar duty. She next caused Mr. Worden to cut
these cards; when a close and musing examination succeeded.
All this time, not a syllable was said; though we were star-
29
It is quite evident, that Mr. Cornelius Littlepage was, to agree
at least, a believer in the fortune-teller’s art. This was, however, no
more than was common, a century since. Quite within my recollection, the Albanians had a celebrated dealer in the black art, who
was regularly consulted, on the subject of all lost spoons, and the
pilfering of servants, by the good housewives of the town, as recently
as my school-boy days. The Dutch, like the Germans, appear to have
been prone to this species of superstition; from which, even the English of education were far from being free, a century since. Mademoiselle Normand existed in the present century, even, in the sceptical
capital of France. But, the somnambulist is taking the place of the
ancient soothsayer, in our own times. – EDITOR.
373
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
tled by a low whistle, from the woman; which brought the raven upon her shoulder.
«Well, Mother», cried Mr. Worden, with a little impatience, at what he fancied mummery, «I am dying to hear
what has happened, that I may put the more faith in what is to
happen. Tell me something of the crop of wheat, I put into
the ground, last autumn; how many bushels I sowed, and on
how many acres; whether on new land, or on old?»
«Ay, ay, you have sowed! – and you have sowed!» answered
the woman, on a high key, for her; «but your seed fell among
tares, and on the fl inty ground; and you’ll never reap a soul
among ‘em all! Broadcast may you sow – but narrow will be
your harvest».
The Rev. Mr. Worden gave a loud hem – placed his arms
akimbo – and seemed determined to brazen it out; though,
I could easily perceive, that he felt excessively awkward.
«How is it, with my cattle? and shall I send much mutton to
market, this season?»
«A wolf, in sheep’s clothing!» muttered Doortje. «No –
no – you like hot suppers, and ducks, and lectures to cooks
more than gathering in the harvest of the Lord!»
«Come, this is folly, woman!» exclaimed the parson, angrily. «Give me some common sense, for my good French crown.
What do you see, in that knave of diamonds, that you study its
face so closely?»
«A loping Dominie! – a loping Dominie!» screamed
the hag, several times, rather than exclaiming aloud. «See! –
he runs, for life; but Beelzebub will overtake him!»
374
SATANSTOE; OR, THE LITTLEPAGE MANUSCRIPTS
There was a sudden, and dead pause; for the Rev. Mr. Worden had caught up his hat, and darted from the room; quitting the house, as if already busily engaged in the race alluded
to. Guert shook his head, and looked serious; but, perceiving
that the woman was already tranquil, and was actually shuffl ing the cards anew, in his behalf, he advanced to learn his
fate. I saw the eyes of Doortje fastened keenly on him, as he
took his stand near the table, and the corners of her mouth
curled in a signifi cant smile. What that meant, exactly, I have
never been able to ascertain.
«I suppose, you wish to know something of the past, like all
the rest of them», mumbled the woman, «so that you may have
faith in what you hear about the future?»
«Why, Mother», answered Guert, passing his hand through
his own fi ne head of natural curls, and speaking a little hastily,
«I do not know that it is any great matter about the past. What
is done, is done; and there is an end of it. A young man may not
wish to hear of such things, at the moment, perhaps, when he
is earnestly bent on doing better. We are all young, once in our
lives, and we can grow old only after having been so».
«Yes – yes – I see how it is!» muttered Doortje. «So –
so – turkeys – turkeys; ducks – ducks – quaack – quaack –
quaack – gobble, gobble, gobble –» Here, the old hag set up
such an imitation of ducks, geese, turkeys, game-cocks, and
other birds, that one who was in an outer room, might well
have imagined he heard the cries of a regular poultry-yard.
I was startled, myself, for the imitation was very admirable –
but Guert was obliged to wipe the perspiration from his face.
375
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
«That will do – that will do, Mother!» the young man exclaimed. «I see, you know all about it; and there is no use in
attempting disguises with you. Now, tell me, if I am ever to be
a married man, or not. My errand here, is to learn that fact; and
I may as well own it, at once».
«The world has many women in it – and fair faces are
plenty, in Albany», once more mumbled the woman, examining her cards, with great attention. «A youth, like you, might
marry twice, even».
«No, that is impossible; if I do not marry a particular lady,
I shall never marry at all».
«Yes – yes – I see how it is! – You are in love, young man».
«D’ye hear that, Corny! Isn’t it wonderful, how these creatures can tell? I admit the truth of what you say; but, describe to
me the lady that I love».
Guert had forgotten, altogether, that the use of the word
lady, completely betrayed the fact of his disguise; since no
man, truly of his dress and air, would think of applying such
a word to his sweetheart.
trayals of himself, however; for, by this time, my companion
was too much excited, to hear reason.
«The lady that you love», answered the fortune-teller, deliberately, and with the manner of one that proceeded with
great confi dence, «is very handsome, in the fi rst place».
«True as the sun in the heavens, Mother!»
«Then, she is virtuous, and amiable, and wise, and witty,
and good».
30
I could not prevent these little be-
30
This might have been true, in 1758; but is not true for
1845. – EDITOR.
376
SATANSTOE; OR, THE LITTLEPAGE MANUSCRIPTS
«The Gospel is not more certain! Corny, this surpasses
belief!»
«Then, she is young. Yes, she is young, and fair, and good;
three things that make her much sought after».
«Why is she so long refl ecting on my offers, Mother, tell me
that, I beg of you; or, will she ever consent to have me?»
«I see – I see – it is all here, on the cards. The lady cannot
make up her mind».
«Listen to that, now, Corny; and do not tell me there is
nothing in this art. Why does she not make up her mind? For
Heaven’s sake, let me know that? A man may tire of offering to
marry an angel, and getting no answer. I wish to know the reason of her doubts».
«A woman’s mind is not easily read. Some are in haste,
while some are not. I am of opinion you wish to get an answer
before the lady is ready to give it. Men must learn to wait».
«She really seems to know all about it, Corny! Much as
I have heard of this woman, she exceeds it all! Good Mother, can you tell me how I can gain the consent of the woman
I love?»
«That is only to be had by asking. Ask once, ask twice, ask
thrice».
«By St. Nicholas! I have asked, already, twenty times! If asking would do it, she would have been my wife a month since.
What do you think, Corny – no, I’ll not do it – it is not manly to get the secrets of a woman’s heart, by means like these –
I’ll not ask her!»
377
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
«The crown is paid, and the truth must be said. The lady
you love, loves you, and she does not love you; she will have
you, and she won’t have you; she thinks yes, and she says no».
Guert now trembled all over, like an aspen-leaf.
«I do not believe there is any harm, Corny, in asking whether I gained or lost by the affair of the river? I will ask her that
much, of a certainty. Tell me, Mother, am I better or worse,
for a certain thing that happened about a month ago – about
the time that the ice went, and that we had a great freshet?»
«Guert Ten Eyck, why do you try me thus?» demanded
the fortune-teller, solemnly. «I knew your father, and I knew
your mother; I knew your ancestors in Holland, and their children in America. Generations on generations have I known
your people, and you are the fi rst that I have seen so ill-clad!
Do you suppose, boy, that old Doortje’s eyes are getting dim,
and that she cannot tell her own nation? I saw you on the river – ha! ha! ‘t was a pleasant sight – Jack and Moses, too; how
they snorted, and how they galloped! Crack – crack – that’s
the ice – there comes the water! – See, that bridge may hit
you on the head! Do you take care of this bird, and do you
take care of that – and all will come round with the seasons.
Answer me one thing, Guert Ten Eyck, and answer me truly.
Know you ever a young man who goes quickly into the bush?»
«I do, Mother; this young man, my friend, intends to go in
a few days, or as soon as the weather is settled».
«Good! go you with him – absence makes a young woman
know her own mind, when asking will gain nothing. Go you
with him, I say; and if you hear muskets fi red, go near them;
fear will sometimes make a young woman speak. You have
378
SATANSTOE; OR, THE LITTLEPAGE MANUSCRIPTS
your answer, and I will tell no more. Come hither, young owner of many half-joes, and touch that card».
«I did as ordered; when the woman began to mumble to
herself, and to run over the pack as rapidly as she could. Kings,
aces, and knaves were examined, one after another, until she
had got the Queen of Hearts in her hand, which she held up to
me in triumph.
«That is your lady. She is a queen of too many hearts!
The Hudson did that for you, that it has done for many a poor
man before you. Yes, yes; the river did you good: but water
will drown, as well as make tears. Do you beware of Knights
Barrownights!»
31
Here Mother Doortje came to a dead stand in her communications, and not another syllable of any sort could either of us get from her; though, between us, as many as twenty
questions were asked. Signs were made for us to depart; and
when the woman found our reluctance, she laid a crown for
each of us, on the table, with a dignifi ed air, and went into
a corner, seated herself, and began to rock her body, like one
impatient of our presence. After so unequivocal a sign that she
considered her work as done, we could not well do less than
return; leaving the money behind us, as a matter of course.
31
In the colony of New York, there lived but one titled man,
for a considerable period. It was the celebrated Sir William Johnson,
Bart., of Johnson Hall, Johnstown, Albany, now Fulton County. The
son of Sir William Johnson was knighted during his father’s lifetime, and was Sir John while Sir William was living. At the death of
his father, he was Sir John Johnson, Kt. & Bart.; and it was usual for
the common class of people to style him a Knight, of Barrownight. –
EDITOR.
CHAPTER XIX
Virtue, how frail it is!
Friendship, too rare!
Love, how it sells poor bliss
For proud despair!
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy, and all
Which ours we call.
SHELLEY.
Guert Ten Eyck was profoundly impressed with what he
had heard, in his visit to the fortune-teller. It affected his spirits,
and, as will be seen, it infl uenced all his subsequent conduct.
As for myself, I will not say that I totally disregarded what had
passed; though the effect was greatly less on me, than it was on
my friend. The Rev. Mr. Worden, however, treated the matter
with great disdain. He declared that he had never before been
so insulted in his life. The old hag, no doubt, had seen us all
before, and recognised him. Profi ting by a knowledge of this
sort – that was very easily obtained in a place of the size of Albany – she had taken the occasion to make the most of the low
gossip that had been circulated at his expense. «Loping Domi-
380
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