Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1892-12-25
STORY OF A PICTURE.
OLD sY GILLIAT, THE FIDDLER, AND
HIS GROUP OF DANCERS.
A Passing-strange Cbristmas.Eve Advsn-
ture IN an old Mansion
In Richmond.
rwritteu for the DIspatch.I

/ The picture always had singular ta5ci-
nation for me.
Time and again, even when my back was
turned to 1t and when friendly contro-
versv was most excited among the kindred
spirits thot were accustomed 10 assemble
in the parlor Of the old mansion. ! have
ielt its strange influence and turned to
| glance at it.
| 1t hung in a corner amidst a group OF
| family portraits and other examples Of
/ painters long since dead--the oentre-piece
| OF q heterogeneous mosaic Of art that over
/ looked furniture and upholstery equally
ancient.
| II was tnosaic, the portraits Ia which
! suggested that they were critlcising, with
mingled pity and reproof. the dress and
methods Of thought of the company that
atregular intervals gathered beneath them.
| and from which the landscape pieces
seemed TO eXhale the faint, far odor OF flow
| ers found now only IN old homestead gar
| dens gone to waste. Only was the ana
! chronlsm less defined and the contrast less
| obvious when would join the company she
of the cameo face. She came not often,
but when she did 1t was as If one OF the
portraits had stepped down from ITS
! frame and bond of sympathy
uAil Dftu ttkhtllieltil bfAWNNi tiA' W
and the past Her conversation reminded
one Of the echo of an old melody running
ike suppressed and timid theme through
some brilliant new composition, and when
she was near realized more senslblY than
when she was absent the fascination otthe
picture III the corner
But of this particular picture. / do not
know It's history further than that 1t came
out OF the old museum when that lahd-
mark OF early Richmond cultivation was
swept away. Nor DO 1 know VINO painted
il. Perhaps il IL Sully. IL has
some of his characteristics, both
in coloring and drawing. One figure.
however, was conceded to be historic.
That is the figure OF an old negro, ~ Gll-
Lat. the celebrated fiddler old Sy IN all
the pomposlty of rutlled shirt, stock,
and knee breecDes: the same old Sy VINO
had hidden on many occasions WITH inc
driver of the coach that carried Parson
Buchanan to the county 60 marry couple,
aud who after the ceremony, was more
important parsonage than the parson, see
ing that with his sable contemporary. Lon
don Biggs, he made music tor the wedding
dance
Ii Is an AZ Fresc0 composition. Old Sy
is seated on a stool beneath a tree against
which he leans and is the embodiment OF
colOred arlstocratic dignity. lie has eX-
changed his fiddle for banjo, upon which
he is playing. In front of him, IN quaint
costumes and with Joyous abandon, dance
several white children, while TO his right
are the father and mother OF the dancers,
evidently enjoying the scene intensely.
In the immediate foreground Is a slip Of
gIrl with a hauntlngly sweet face aud grace
OF carriage-just the face and figure 10
make one query mentally what Will be heE
future.
had often wondered If the picture had
a story-that is, whether the figures IN II
other than that OF Old Sy were taken from
real life or were merely introduced by the
painter as q setting tor his sable subject
The more | studied the figure OF the grl
the stronger the conviction grew upon ne
that she had really lived.
On Christmas Eve. IS, my study OF the
picture eliminated in an experience ! can
never forget. | do not propose TO attempt
an explanation of 1t. | shall only re-
late il. There never was qui0ter Christ
mas Eve in Richmond. The snow had
been falling steadily ever since the night
before and lay SO deep upon the ground
that even the passing vehicles made no
rumbling. When | rang the front-door
bell of the old mansion she OF the cameo
face admitted me. but ! passed into the
parlor alone, for, as she afterwards SAID, |
did not appear inclined 10 talk. The house
was oppressiyely silent, and a. | took my
seat before the dull-red mass OF Goals
in the CRATE which afforded the only
light in the room. | was not conscious
of sound. save the steady ticking
of the clock on the stairway out IN the
hall-a clock that had been measuring the
hours for full a century. To me there was
always something weird about these old
Dutch clocks. When | was q child asso-
ciated them with collins and though am
not given TO the uncanny or the morbid,
never see one in the cleaning. now that |
do not half expect its door to fly open and
reveal a skeleton. Certainly they are the
collins n which repose the skeletons OF
the generations of time.
From the position in which | sat, or
rather reclined. for | had thrown myself
into favorite rocker, which was alwal S
covered with tiger skin, my picture was
behind me. But hearing or imagining |
heard q slight sound. as of the rustllng OF
silk, glanced up TO the mirror over the
mantel and there was my picture reflected
in it with startling yiyidness. lnyolun-
tarily turned and looked back 70 the
corner, vaguely impressed with the belief
that would see a strong light upon the
original. 1t was still in place. but tho
figures were barely perceptlble, and
there was no change IN the sombre-
ness of the tints age had cast over II.
Again | turned TO the mirror. half dOuot-
ing the evidences of my senses and tho
roughly mystified; but a still more sur
prising revelation awaited me. The picture
had receded in the glass, only TO show IN
an intense Rembrandt effect. AZ the end
OF a long vista of shadows hemmlng N
everything else that could be reflected
from the room were Old Sy, the youthful
dancers, and the spectators, In cOlOrs as
fresh as the day the composition came
from the easel.
Then the figures began to move. Hou
say was dreaming. l was not. / never
was more wide awake IN my life. Never
were all my faculties more alert or strained
to keener perception. At first the move
ment was slow and measured. but gradu-
ally it became more rapid, until IT as
sumed a dszlng, binding whIrl that
caused me TO close my eyes from sheer
pam. When | looked again there was still
a picture in the mirror. but not the picture
that hung in the corner.
Sy Gilllat-Sy older and grayer-was
still a prominent figure, but his environ
ments had been altogether transformers.
He had exchanged his banjo for his fiddle
and his seat uhder the tree for o chair in
large wainscoated hall, where amid glare
of light from myriad candles throng OF
stately women in rich brocades and Jewels,
and scores Of handsome men IN Derlwigs,
knee breeches. and pumps, moved through
the mazes of the cotIllon.
Falrer women never gathered in court
of beauty. 1t was vision of transcend
ent loneliness and splendor. Yet the form
and face that lent 10 II sweetest grace aud
rivetted my gaze with magnetic potency
was the most modest. A tall. 1.-THE, will
Lowry form, all in white, with no ornaments
save q bunch of violets at the breast. A
face so pure and spiritual that it seemed
illumined with celestial light. Eyes
that mirrored soul IN harmony with all
that is refined and attuned 10 all that -
poetic, and which appeared TO look be-
youd their Iazzling surroundings into
the peace. quiet, and tranquility of some
distant landscape. | could but compare
her 20 single spray of lily of the valley
IN bouquet of roses and carnations.
How long | followed her through the
dance cannot say. but more and more
familiar grew the form and face until
knew that the picture in the corner con: