The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater | Page 8

happy hours in the midst of
general dejection. I wept as I looked round on the chair, hearth,
writing-table, and other familiar objects, knowing too certainly that I
looked upon them for the last time. Whilst I write this it is eighteen
years ago, and yet at this moment I see distinctly, as if it were yesterday,
the lineaments and expression of the object on which I fixed my parting
gaze. It was a picture of the lovely -, which hung over the mantelpiece,
the eyes and mouth of which were so beautiful, and the whole
countenance so radiant with benignity and divine tranquillity, that I had
a thousand times laid down my pen or my book to gather consolation
from it, as a devotee from his patron saint. Whilst I was yet gazing
upon it the deep tones of--clock proclaimed that it was four o'clock. I
went up to the picture, kissed it, and then gently walked out and closed
the door for ever!
So blended and intertwisted in this life are occasions of laughter and of
tears, that I cannot yet recall without smiling an incident which
occurred at that time, and which had nearly put a stop to the immediate
execution of my plan. I had a trunk of immense weight, for, besides my
clothes, it contained nearly all my library. The difficulty was to get this
removed to a carrier's: my room was at an aerial elevation in the house,
and (what was worse) the staircase which communicated with this
angle of the building was accessible only by a gallery, which passed the
head-master's chamber door. I was a favourite with all the servants, and
knowing that any of them would screen me and act confidentially, I
communicated my embarrassment to a groom of the head-master's. The
groom swore he would do anything I wished, and when the time
arrived went upstairs to bring the trunk down. This I feared was beyond
the strength of any one man; however, the groom was a man
Of Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies;
and had a back as spacious as Salisbury Plain. Accordingly he persisted
in bringing down the trunk alone, whilst I stood waiting at the foot of
the last flight in anxiety for the event. For some time I heard him
descending with slow and firm steps; but unfortunately, from his

trepidation, as he drew near the dangerous quarter, within a few steps
of the gallery, his foot slipped, and the mighty burden falling from his
shoulders, gained such increase of impetus at each step of the descent,
that on reaching the bottom it trundled, or rather leaped, right across,
with the noise of twenty devils, against the very bedroom door of the
Archididascalus. My first thought was that all was lost, and that my
only chance for executing a retreat was to sacrifice my baggage.
However, on reflection I determined to abide the issue. The groom was
in the utmost alarm, both on his own account and on mine, but, in spite
of this, so irresistibly had the sense of the ludicrous in this unhappy
contretemps taken possession of his fancy, that he sang out a long, loud,
and canorous peal of laughter, that might have wakened the Seven
Sleepers. At the sound of this resonant merriment, within the very ears
of insulted authority, I could not myself forbear joining in it; subdued
to this, not so much by the unhappy etourderie of the trunk, as by the
effect it had upon the groom. We both expected, as a matter of course,
that Dr.--would sally, out of his room, for in general, if but a mouse
stirred, he sprang out like a mastiff from his kennel. Strange to say,
however, on this occasion, when the noise of laughter had ceased, no
sound, or rustling even, was to be heard in the bedroom. Dr.--had a
painful complaint, which, sometimes keeping him awake, made his
sleep perhaps, when it did come, the deeper. Gathering courage from
the silence, the groom hoisted his burden again, and accomplished the
remainder of his descent without accident. I waited until I saw the trunk
placed on a wheelbarrow and on its road to the carrier's; then, "with
Providence my guide," I set off on foot, carrying a small parcel with
some articles of dress under my arm; a favourite English poet in one
pocket, and a small 12mo volume, containing about nine plays of
Euripides, in the other.
It had been my intention originally to proceed to Westmoreland, both
from the love I bore to that country and on other personal accounts.
Accident, however, gave a different direction to my wanderings, and I
bent my steps towards North Wales.
After wandering about for some time in Denbighshire, Merionethshire,