The House of the Seven Gables Nathaniel Hawthorne Lit2Go ETC
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She looked into Clifford’s face, and beheld there a soft naturaleffusion; for his heart gushed out, as it were, and ran over at his eyes, indelightful reverence for God, and kindly affection for his human brethren. She yearned to take him by the hand,and go and kneel down, they two together,—both so long separate from theworld, and, as she now recognized, scarcely friends with Him above,—tokneel down among the people, and be reconciled to God and man at once. Doubtless, more than one New-Englander—or, let him be of what country hemight, it is as likely to be the case—passed by, and threw a look at themonkey, and went on, without imagining how nearly his own moral condition washere exemplified.
By Nathaniel Hawthorne
In very truth, we have an invincible reluctance to disclose what MissHepzibah Pyncheon was about to do. He tried the door, which yielded to his hand, and was flung wide open by asudden gust of wind that passed, as with a loud sigh, from the outermost portalthrough all the passages and apartments of the new house. It rustled the silkengarments of the ladies, and waved the long curls of the gentlemen’s wigs,and shook the window-hangings and the curtains of the bedchambers; causingeverywhere a singular stir, which yet was more like a hush.
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Clifford and Phœbe
It was a moment ofgreat peril; for,—despite the traditionary awe that had gathered overthis instrument of music, and the dirges which spiritual fingers were said toplay on it,—the devoted sister had solemn thoughts of thrumming on itschords for Clifford’s benefit, and accompanying the performance with hervoice. By some good agency,—possibly, by theunrecognized interposition of the long-buried Alice herself,—thethreatening calamity was averted. Hepzibah spread out her gaunt figure across the door, and seemed really toincrease in bulk; looking the more terrible, also, because there was so muchterror and agitation in her heart. But Judge Pyncheon’s evident purposeof forcing a passage was interrupted by a voice from the inner room; a weak,tremulous, wailing voice, indicating helpless alarm, with no more energy forself-defence than belongs to a frightened infant. The favorable excitement derived from this little crimson rose affordedClifford the brightest moment which he enjoyed at the breakfast-table. It mighthave lasted longer, but that his eyes happened, soon afterwards, to rest on theface of the old Puritan, who, out of his dingy frame and lustreless canvas, waslooking down on the scene like a ghost, and a most ill-tempered and ungenialone.
Clifford Pyncheon
It was evident that the race had degenerated, likemany a noble race besides, in consequence of too strict a watchfulness to keepit pure. These feathered people had existed too long in their distinct variety;a fact of which the present representatives, judging by their lugubriousdeportment, seemed to be aware. They kept themselves alive, unquestionably, andlaid now and then an egg, and hatched a chicken; not for any pleasure of theirown, but that the world might not absolutely lose what had once been soadmirable a breed of fowls. The distinguishing mark of the hens was a crest oflamentably scanty growth, in these latter days, but so oddly and wickedlyanalogous to Hepzibah’s turban, that Phœbe—to the poignantdistress of her conscience, but inevitably—was led to fancy a generalresemblance betwixt these forlorn bipeds and her respectable relative. Nervously—in a sort of frenzy, we might almost say—she began tobusy herself in arranging some children’s playthings, and other littlewares, on the shelves and at the shop-window.
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A curious eye,privileged to take an account of stock and investigate behind the counter,would have discovered a barrel, yea, two or three barrels and halfditto,—one containing flour, another apples, and a third, perhaps, Indianmeal. There was likewise a square box of pine-wood, full of soap in bars; also,another of the same size, in which were tallow candles, ten to the pound. Asmall stock of brown sugar, some white beans and split peas, and a few othercommodities of low price, and such as are constantly in demand, made up thebulkier portion of the merchandise. It might have been taken for a ghostly orphantasmagoric reflection of the old shop-keeper Pyncheon’s shabbilyprovided shelves, save that some of the articles were of a description andoutward form which could hardly have been known in his day. For instance, therewas a glass pickle-jar, filled with fragments of Gibraltar rock; not, indeed,splinters of the veritable stone foundation of the famous fortress, but bits ofdelectable candy, neatly done up in white paper. Jim Crow, moreover, was seenexecuting his world-renowned dance, in gingerbread.
Even the normally unflappable Phoebe experiences a moment of revulsion when the Judge greets her. Less terrible but equally strange is Holgrave, the house’s only lodger. He and Phoebe spend much time together, tending the garden and feeding the house chickens, a once-mighty breed whose former glory is compared to that of the Pyncheons. Holgrave explains his radical politics, which revolve around the principle that each generation should tear down the work of those before it, and asks Phoebe constantly about Clifford and his past. The House of the Seven Gables, romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne, published in 1851.
X: The Pyncheon-Garden
The sounds of her harpsichord are said to still haunt the house of the seven gables. (the elder) A simple farmer in the 1600s, Maule is hanged for witchcraft, most likely at the instigation of Colonel Pyncheon. A young lodger in Hepzibah’s home, Holgrave earns his living by making an early kind of photograph known as a daguerreotype. Holgrave’s politics are very liberal and revolutionary, but he is kind despite the strange and lawless company he keeps. No one knows that Holgrave is actually a descendant of the first Matthew Maule.
When Clifford retires for the day, Phoebe spends her time shopping and reading the Bible. She has grown pensive and more mature under the influence of her relations and her stay in their home. Her only social outlet is Holgrave, who despite their almost daily encounters she feels she does not really know. Holgrave was independent early in life and has held many jobs, including schoolmaster, salesman, peddler, and dentist. Despite such experiences, he is not learned and is marked by youthful passion more than intellect. In one of his meetings with Phoebe, with whom he appears smitten, Holgrave shares his views about the past and the future.
Inspiration for Hawthorne
He tells her that Hepzibah and Clifford are gone and shows her the daguerreotype of the judge he made some time ago. He then shows her one he just completed, and she surmises that the judge is dead. Holgrave tells Phoebe that he has not told anyone about the death because he believes that with Hepzibah and Clifford gone and the similarity between the judge's death and uncle Jaffrey Pyncheon's, the two will be implicated. Holgrave believes that the judge's death, if evaluated properly, will show that his death occurred because of an inherited family condition. He also tells Pheobe that he believes the judge made uncle Jaffrey Pyncheon's death look violent after the man had already died of the same affliction.
Rumors swirl around him, and he’s said to possess mysterious powers. Gervayse wants to know the whereabouts of the deed to the Pyncheon land in Maine; its disappearance has an alleged connection with the Maules. Maule persuades Gervayse to let him hypnotize Alice; using her as a spiritual medium, he can then contact their respective ancestors in order to learn the deed’s location. In addition, Alice remains under Maule’s hypnotic spell for the rest of her life, forced to obey Maule’s wishes from afar.
There were two objects that appeared rather out of place in this veryhandsomely furnished room. One was a large map, or surveyor’s plan, of atract of land, which looked as if it had been drawn a good many years ago, andwas now dingy with smoke, and soiled, here and there, with the touch offingers. The other was a portrait of a stern old man, in a Puritan garb,painted roughly, but with a bold effect, and a remarkably strong expression ofcharacter. At length, just as an elderly gentleman of very dignified presence happened tobe passing, a large bubble sailed majestically down, and burst right againsthis nose!
Every one of these small individuals started intothe most curious vivacity. Possibly some cynic, at once merry and bitter, had desired to signify, inthis pantomimic scene, that we mortals, whatever our business oramusement,—however serious, however trifling,—all dance to oneidentical tune, and, in spite of our ridiculous activity, bring nothing finallyto pass. For the most remarkable aspect of the affair was, that, at thecessation of the music, everybody was petrified at once, from the mostextravagant life into a dead torpor. Neither was the cobbler’s shoefinished, nor the blacksmith’s iron shaped out; nor was there a drop lessof brandy in the toper’s bottle, nor a drop more of milk in themilkmaid’s pail, nor one additional coin in the miser’s strong-box,nor was the scholar a page deeper in his book. All were precisely in the samecondition as before they made themselves so ridiculous by their haste to toil,to enjoy, to accumulate gold, and to become wise.
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