The Uncollected Writings of Thomas de Quincey Volume II Part 13

WHICH CONTAINS A PLAY WITHIN A PLAY.

All the world was astonished, when from the door of the Double-barrelled Gun a man stepped forth on the hottest day in August, arrayed as for a Siberian winter in a dreadnought, guarded with furs, and a hat pressed down, so as almost to cover his face. The train of curious persons who attended his motions naturally grew larger at every step.

Whosoever had hitherto doubted whether this man were mad--doubted no longer when he was seen to enter the theatre; where in the lightest summer-clothing the heat was scarcely supportable.

Within the theatre, the attention of all people was directed so undividedly upon himself, that even Mr. Schnackenberger began to opine that he had undertaken something extraordinary: so much the more, thought he, will it be prudent to hide my face, that I may not again compromise my dignity in the presence of her Highness. But this concealment of his face raised the strongest suspicions against him.

Throughout the whole house--pit--boxes--and galleries--there was but one subject of conversation, viz. the man in the dreadnought; and, whilst in all other parts the house was crowded to excess, upon his bench no soul would sit: and he _created_ as much superfluity of room as he had _found_ at the Golden Sow. At length the manager waited upon him, and requested that he would either retire from the theatre, or that he would explain what could have induced him to make his appearance in a costume which had spread alarm and anxiety through the public mind; and which was likely to do a serious injury to the receipts of the night.

At this moment several children began to cry--taking him for black[25]

Robert. The consequence was, that, as they could not be pacified, the first scene was mere dumb show to the audience; and some giddy young people set up a loud 'off, off, Dreadnought!' which cry was instantly seconded by the public. Nevertheless, as the princess at that instant entered her box, Mr. Schnackenberger, however hard pressed, thought it became him to maintain his post to the last extremity. This extremity forthwith appeared in the shape of three armed soldiers, who, on behalf of the police, took him into custody. Possibly Mr. Jeremiah might have shown himself less tractable to the requests of these superannuated antiquities--but for two considerations; first, that an opportunity might thus offer of exchanging his dreadnought for a less impressive costume; and, secondly, that in case of his declining to accompany them, he saw signs abroad that a generous and enlightened public did very probably purpose to kick him out; a conjecture which was considerably strengthened by the universal applause which attended his exit at quick time.

[25] In the original _Knecht Rupert_. The allusion is to an old Christmas usage of North Germany: a person comes in disguise, in the character of an amba.s.sador from heaven, with presents for all the young children who are reported to him as good and obedient: but those who are naughty he threatens and admonishes. See Coleridge's _Friend_, vol. ii.

p. 322.

Mr. Schnackenberger was escorted by an immense retinue of old street-padders and youthful mud-larks to the city gaol. His own view of the case was, that the public had been guilty of a row, and ought to be arrested. But the old Mayor, who was half-deaf, comprehended not a syllable of what he said: all his remonstrances about 'pressing business' went for nothing: and, when he made a show of escaping upon seeing the gloomy hole into which he was now handed, his wors.h.i.+p threatened him with drawing out the city guard.

From one of this respectable body, who brought him straw to lie upon, and the wretched prison allowance of food, he learned that his examination could not take place that day nor even the next; for the next was a holiday, on which Mr. Mayor never did any business. On receiving this dolorous information, Mr. Schnackenberger's first impulse was to knock down his informant and run away: but a moment's consideration satisfied him--that, though he might by this means escape from his cell, he could have no chance of forcing the prison gates.

CHAPTER XVI.

IN WHAT WAY MR. JEREMIAH ESCAPES; AND WHAT HE FINDS IN THE STREET.

A most beautiful moonlight began at this juncture to throw its beams in the prison, when Mr. Schnackenberger, starting up from his sleepless couch, for pure rage, seized upon the iron bars of his window, and shook them with a fervent prayer, that instead of bars it had pleased G.o.d to put Mr. Mayor within his grasp. To his infinite astonishment, the bars were more obedient to his wrath than could have been expected. One shake more, and like a row of carious teeth they were all in Mr.

Schnackenberger's hand.

It may be supposed that Mr. Schnackenberger lost no time in using his good fortune; indeed, a very slight jump would suffice to place him at liberty. Accordingly, when the sentinel had retired to a little distance, he flung his dreadnought out of the window--leaped upon it--and stood without injury on the outside of the prison.

'Who goes there?' cried the alarmed sentinel, coyly approaching the spot from which the noise issued.

'n.o.body,' said the fugitive: and by way of answer to the challenge--'Speak, or I must fire'--which tremulously issued from the lips of the city hero, Mr. Schnackenberger, gathering up his dreadnought to his breast, said in a hollow voice, 'Fellow, thou art a dead man.'

Straightway the armed man fell upon his knees before him, and cried out--'ah! gracious Sir! have mercy upon me. I am a poor wig-maker; and a bad trade it is; and I pet.i.tioned his wors.h.i.+p, and have done for this many a year, to be taken into the city guard; and yesterday I pa.s.sed--'

'Pa.s.sed what?'

'Pa.s.sed my examination, your honour:--his wors.h.i.+p put me through the manual exercise: and I was 'triculated into the corps. It would be a sad thing, your honour, to lose my life the very next day after I was 'triculated.'

'Well,' said Mr. Jeremiah, who with much ado forbore laughing immoderately, 'for this once I shall spare your life: but then remember--not a word, no sound or syllable.'

'Not one, your honour, I vow to heaven.'

'And down upon the spot deliver me your coat, side arms, and hat.'

But the martial wig-maker protested that, being already ill of a cold, he should, without all doubt, perish if he were to keep guard in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves.

'Well, in that case, this dreadnought will be a capital article: allow me to prescribe it--it's an excellent sudorific.'

Necessity has no law: and so, to save his life, the city hero, after some little struggle, submitted to this unusual exchange.

'Very good!' said Mr. Schnackenberger, as the warrior in the dreadnought, after mounting his round hat, again shouldered his musket:--'Now, good-night;' and so saying, he hastened off to the residence of the Mayor.

CHAPTER XVII.

MR. JEREMIAH'S NIGHT INTERVIEW WITH THE MAYOR UPON STATE AFFAIRS.

'Saints in heaven! is this the messenger of the last day?' screamed out a female voice, as the doorbell rang out a furious alarum--peal upon peal--under that able performer, Mr. Jeremiah Schnackenberger. She hastened to open the door; but, when she beheld a soldier in the state uniform, she a.s.sured him it was all over with him; for his wors.h.i.+p was gone to bed; and, when _that_ was the case, he never allowed of any disturbance without making an example.

'Aye, but I come upon state business.'

'No matter,' said the old woman, 'it's all one: when his wors.h.i.+p sleeps, business must sleep: that's the law, I'll a.s.sure you, and _has_ been any time since I can think on. He always commits, at the least.'

'Very likely; but I _must_ speak to him.'

'Well, then, take the consequences on yourself,' said she: 'recollect, you're a state soldier; you'll be brought to a court-martial; you'll be shot.'

'Ah! well: that's _my_ concern.'

'Mighty well,' said the old woman: 'one may as well speak to the wind.

However, _I_'ll get out the way: _I_'ll not come near the hurricane. And don't you say, I didn't warn you.'

So saying, she let him up to her master's bed-room door, and then trotted off as fast and as far as she could.

At this moment Mr. Mayor, already wakened and discomposed by the violent tintinnabulation, rushed out: 'What!' said he, 'am I awake? Is it a guardsman that has this audacity?'

'No guardsman, Mr. Mayor,' said our hero; in whose face his wors.h.i.+p was vainly poring with the lamp to spell out the features of some one amongst the twelve members of the state-guard; 'no guardsman, but a gentleman that was apprehended last night at the theatre.'

'Ah!' said the Mayor, trembling in every limb, 'a prisoner, and escaped?

And perhaps has murdered the guard?--What would you have of me--me, a poor, helpless, unfortunate man?'

And, at every word he spoke, he continued to step back towards a bell that lay upon the table.

'_Basta_,' said Mr. Schnackenberger, taking the bell out of his hands.

'Mr. Mayor, I'm just the man in the dreadnought. And I've a question to ask you, Mr. Mayor; and I thought it was rather long to wait until morning; so I took the liberty of coming for an answer to-night; and I'd think myself particularly obliged to you for it now:--Upon what authority do you conceive yourself ent.i.tled to commit me, an innocent man, and without a hearing, to an abominable hole of a dungeon? I have not murdered the guard, Mr. Mayor: but I troubled him for his regimental coat, that I might gain admittance to your wors.h.i.+p: and I left him the dreadnought in exchange.'

'The dreadnought?' said the Mayor. 'Aye: now this very dreadnought it was, Sir, that compelled me (making a low bow) to issue my warrant for your apprehension.' And it then came out, that in a list of stolen goods recently lodged with the magistrates, a dreadnought was particularly noticed: and Mr. Mayor having seen a man enter the theatre in an article answering to the description, and easily identified by a black cross embroidered upon the back, was obliged by his duty to have him arrested; more especially as the wearer had increased the suspicion against himself by concealing his face.

This explanation naturally reconciled Mr. Schnackenberger to the arrest: and as to the filthy dungeon, _that_ admitted of a still simpler apology, as it seemed that the town afforded no better.

'Why then, Mr. Mayor,--as things stand, it seems to me that in the point of honour I ought to be satisfied: and in that case I still consider myself your prisoner, and shall take up my quarters for this night in your respectable mansion.'