The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1848-11-10


lucid intervals between his howls Of madness, while
fined in the mad hou Of p, England, and may be Re-
notes were laid ASIDE but not forgotten and the author but
awaited an opportunity 70 place them IN this manner be
And here" said the keeper, as he came to No
! 49, from whence came low moaning, here we
! have a strange prisoner, from whom you may
| gather tale worthy Of note, and surprising any
you have taken, if we but find him quiet, as he
is at times strange story is his, and he is one Of
the most savage and raving prisoners we have at
/ times"
So saying, she unlocked the door, after having
| looked through the grate and we entered crouch
ed down upon his iron and immovabe stool in the
corner with his face buried in his hands, hair long,
| black, and matted, his dress fantastcal and
strange-beng but the attire torn in various places,
| of ring mimic-was man, who moved not at
| our entrance he was like all we had seen, chain
ed by the wrists to the floor, rendering it impossi
| bic for him TO move than was required in sit
| ting, or living upon the coarse bed beside him.
Nothing escaped him except low moaning,
| which, at times, he sent forth, and shaking his
head, buried it still deeper in his hands the keeper
said in this manner he had passed whole days, and
| then he was more peaceable, and less violent.
Touching him with the end Of the stick 1t carried
| in his hand, he said" Look up" And the miser-
able creature turned up his haggard face 70 our
| view. Why do you come here again 81 said he,
sadly" to make a show of NE You tell me, and
those who come to look at me, that am mad do
you not fear me az strong man-do We not fear
me, weak creature that | am ?-yes, and you
chain my arms and hands and feet, so that cannot
lift them up, but look We, there is one thing you
cannot chain lone thing you cannot manacle, and,
if you could, would bear all the chains that could
be heaped upon me-my MEMORY Chain that!
keep that dread form from before me-let it not
haunt me day and night-Iet me not hear the voice
that rings forever in my ear, and you may cham
and load me down, and will thank you for it
| And he dropped bis head and buried bis face once
more in his hands.
" He has not been so rational for many day."
said the keeper, " for which I am thankful, for he
is like lion when the fit is on him, and -
g Ha ha ha y shouted the mailman, rising,
end hinging his arms as high about him as his
manacles allowed" ha! ha ha | am with you
once again! come, is all ready who goes on first
why do you stare so wildly at me! Come, am
merry and shall make them laugh out tonight =
ha ha ha - and his pale face was lit up with
wild, demoniacal expression. Soon he spoke again:
g Where's Mary, not come yet Strange-it's
time-long past time, and she knew well she should
be here early Why gaze at me she is nOt-no,
no, nothing has happened-tell me, is she safe, is
my dear child safe Oh, God remember, Mary
is dead-dead Ha ha ha" And, with loud
shrieks he dashed his hands TO his forehead.
Soon he sat down again upon his low iron stool,
dejectedly, and spoke not then looking up again,
he gaZed round, and upon the keeper and myself,
who stood by the door, beyond his reach.
Come nearer to me, said he, reckoning " come
nearer, not you no, not you / fear you" and he
shuddered as the keeper stepped towards him
fear yOu for your eyes strike terorto my heart, and
that and the form Of my child before me ever, are
all dread Come, and will tell you OF my child
my little Mary, my own pet child-Pl tell you
how she died.
Not daring to trust myself within his reach,
stepped as him possible, so that he could not
reach me he bent forward, placed his head upon
his hand, and with a sudden tremor, and wildly
glazing eye, he began:
" Once know not when but could count by
days knew the night, could tell the bright sun and
the clear moon and stars, but all are the same
to mc-daVs know none, and night fingers around
me ever well, long, long ago, ere came to this
dull, gloomy place, was out among men ; drank,
ate, cried, laughed, like men, ay, and that too meT
rly for was jester in the ring, made the crowd,
the heartless rabble, laugh and shout, and raised
merry nOise no matter if my heart was sick or gay,
but was glad sometimes to see the long tiers, the
closely packed boxes and the stalls, each one with
smiles to hear the loud laugh and the merry words,
and know that had caused it ALTO hear their
loud hurrahs to see them wave their hats and hand
kerchiefs, when, with a shrill whoop, jumped into
the ring That would cheer me sometimes when
my heart belied the laugh upon my face, the jest to
which my tongue gave utteTance.
''WeI, so years went on, until my wife, my own
beloved Mary, died she whom loved so tondly
and truly, laid to sleep in the cold, damp earth
no one could have thought that |, the jester, the
clown the one who made them laugh, could l0eep
But, oh how many hours have passed beside
that lonely grave my Mary she had loved me as
few women love she had trod on the same rough
road, walking beside me my troubles and sorrows,
sharing what enjoyed, or suffering, wihouta muir
muir; and when knew she was dead, it seemed as
if my time on earth was over, and the same grave
dug for her should take me in also But she had
left me one over whom must watch with axous-
ness and love, fpOssible, more than heretoiore-Tny
little daughter the image Of her mother, my own
little pet, Mary.
81 struggled with the Deep the bitter curse, of
poverty Could / have gained a livelihood by
toll incessant hardship and endurance, elsewhere,
gladly would ! have rushed to it, and blessed
heaven for its kindness. But no; poor, broken
down a miserable, wretched man--nO profession,
no business save the one | followed. was Sill
forced TO drag in the arena, where my wants al
lowed but very short, scanty respite upon my
wife's DEATH
But what cared the crowd? the cloUn should
not be sad no. no. impossible for the ring-jester to
weep, il was a thing unheard-of, and would have
raised louder laugh than any Of my liyeliest sal
lies. And so, with heart overburthened, sick and
faint was forced to laugh and make merry.
"Oh, what pleasure and joy TO me was little
Marvl how her sweet, artless smiles lit up the
gloom within my bFeast--hOw her merry laugh
made me feel young and happy for the time, and
with what fondness, strange, aV, mad devotion, did
| / hang upon every word, every look Of hers! She
grew, and was beautiful indeed
/" How many hours, when the toll of my profess
sion was over for the night did sit beside her little
cot, and gaze upon her as she lay sleeping before
/ met often, very often, with smile playing upon
her lovely face telling that her dreams sweet
| and pleasant. and making me even smile myself as
I looked upon her, and wish that | was young, and
! innocent, as pure as she.
g And then what horrid. horrid thoughts came
| crowding in upon my feverish brain. All how I'd
struggle, and fight with them, and would weep
| and moan aloud.
For, oh / thought-yes, the thought would
/ rt71s ssII.ss ( death shnuld rob me of her-hers
my Mary-all, all love on the vide eaTtll-sfs5 N
whom were ceniered all my affections, the only one
inducing me still to drag on my weary life what
If the cold, strong sure arm of death, should smte
her down in all her purity and loyeliness! True,