//// PETER RUGG THE MISSING MAN Jfe "l WILL SEE HOME TO-NIGHT." PETER RUGG THE MISSING MAN BY WILLIAM AUSTIN INTRODUCTION BY THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON JOHN W. LUCE & CO. BOSTON MCMX - Copyright, 1908 R. E. LKE COMPANY Copyright, 1910, by L. E. BASSETT Electrotyped and Printed by THE COLONIAL PRESS C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U. S. A. ILLUSTRATIONS I WILL SEE HOME (See page 50) TO - NIGHT " Frontispiece " THIS LOOKS LIKE MY HOUSE " . 4! SHE HEARD THE CRACK OF A WHIP 51 " I CONCLUDED HE HAD RUN AWAY " 77 I APPROACHED NEAR TO RUGG . 9! RUGG STOOD UPRIGHT IN HIS CHAIR 109 2057019 WILLIAM AUSTIN A PRECURSOR OF HAWTHORNE The progress of time has gradually brought to light the fact that Hawthorne had a predecessor in his most delicate and impalpable literary trait. This quality lies in what has been called the penumbra which he throws about his delineations, so that they seem neither real nor unreal ; and the reader needs no sudden bridge to bring him back, when needful, to the common day. For want of this power, Charles Brockden Brown, for instance, a highly imaginative writer, had always to build some clumsy scaffolding of ventriloquism or somnambulism in order to keep his plot intelligible for the audi- ence. The first American example of 10 PETER RUGG such more subtle treatment was really given in William Austin's tale of " Peter Rugg, the Missing Man." The hero of this tale is a creation such as might have come from Hawthorne's own heart. " The earth hath bubbles as the water hath " and this story affords surely one of them. The simple fact of Austin's precedence is easily established. The first publication of " Peter Rugg " was in Buckingham's New England Galaxy for September 10, 1824, and that editor says of it " This article was reprinted in other papers and books, and read more than any newspaper communication that has fallen within my knowledge." It is purely fictitious and originated in the inventive genius of its author. Hawthorne having been born on July 4, 1804, was > therefore, twenty years old when this earlier story was published and we have his own testimony that it had made a very deep impression upon THE MISSING MAN II his mind. He published in the year 1846, at the end of his " Mosses from an Old Manse " a paper entitled " A Virtuoso's Collection " describing many real or imaginary beings. At the very close of this, in a climax which may or may not have been intentional, comes this de- scription, more fully elaborated than any other in the whole essay, although it is full of them. The supposed visitor who describes this collection, sees at the end a figure which interests him who is de- scribed as follows: " 'Yonder figure has something strange and fantastic about him, which suits well enough with many of the impres- sions which I have received here. Pray, who is he ? ' ' " While speaking, I gazed more scrutinizingly than before at the anti- quated presence of the person who had admitted me, and who still sat on his bench with the same restless aspect, and 12 PETER RUGG dim, confused, questioning anxiety that I had noticed on my first entrance. At this moment he looked eagerly towards us, and, half starting from his seat, addressed me. " ' I beseech you, kind sir,' " said he, in a cracked, melancholy tone, " ' have pity on the most unfortunate man in the world. For Heaven's sake, answer me a single question ! Is this the town of Boston ? ' ' " ' You have recognized him now,' " said the virtuoso. "'It is Peter Rugg, the missing man. I chanced to meet him the other day still in search of Boston, and conducted him hither; and, as he could not succeed in finding his friends, I have taken him into my service as doorkeeper. He is somewhat too apt to ramble, but otherwise a man of trust and integrity.' " The scene of the original story of " Peter Rugg " is laid in the year 1820 and that of a later continuation in the year 1825, both of these being combined THE MISSING MAN 13 in the " Boston Book " for 1841. It is the narrative, in the soberest language, of a series of glimpses of a man who spends his life in driving a horse and chaise or more strictly " a weather- beaten chair, once built for a chaise- body " in the direction of Boston, but never getting there. He is accompanied by a child; and it subsequently turns out that he really left Boston about the time of the Boston Massacre (1770) and has been travelling ever since. The ex- planation is that he was overtaken by a storm at Menotomy, now Arlington, a few miles from Boston, and that being a man of violent temper he swore to get home that night or never see home again. Thenceforth he is always travelling; a cloud and a storm always follow him, and every horse that sees his approach feels abject terror. The conception is essentially Hawthorne-like; and so are the scenes and accessories. The time to PETER RUGG which Rugg's career dates back is that borderland of which Hawthorne was so fond, between the colonial and the modern period; and the old localities, dates, costumes, and even coins are all introduced in a way to remind us of the greater artist. But what is most striking in the tale is what I have called the penumbra, a word defined in astron- omy as that portion of space which in an eclipse is partly but not entirely deprived of light; and in painting, as the boun- dary of shade and light, where the one blends with the other. It is this precise gift which has long been recognized among students of good English as almost peculiar to Hawthorne. Miss Elizabeth Peabody, Hawthorne's sister-in-law, stated it admirably when she wrote in a paper on " The Genius of Hawthorne " (Atlantic Monthly, Sept. 1868): "He does not seem to know much more about his heroes and heroines THE MISSING MAN 15 than he represents them to know of each other; but recognizing the fact that most outward action is of mixed motives, and admits of more than one interpretation, he is very apt to suggest two or three quite diverse views, and, as it were, con- sult with his readers upon which may be the true one; and not seldom he gives most prominence to some interpretation which we feel pretty sure is not his own." Then she points out by way of illustra- tion, that in " The Marble Faun " the author does not seem really to know whether Donatello has pointed and furry ears or not; and such illustrations could easily be multiplied. Now, it is pre- cisely this method which we find in full force throughout the story of " Peter Rugg, the Missing Man " published while Hawthorne was yet a student at Bowdoin College. At every point in the narrative of this mysterious being we are thrown into this 1 6 PETER RUGG borderland between light and shade. When the driver points out in the thun- der-cloud, after Rugg and his weird child have driven by, the form of the man, horse, and vehicle, the writer admits that he himself saw no such thing, and sug- gests that " the man's fancy was doubt- less at fault," and that it is " a very com- mon thing for the imagination to paint for the senses." When an old citizen tells the tradition of Rugg's ill-temper, that he became "so profane that his wig would rise up from his head," the dis- passionate historian is careful to tell us: " Some said it was on account of his terrible language; others accounted for it in a more philosophical way, and said it was caused by the expansion of his scalp, as violent passion, we know, will swell the veins and expand the head." When the author mentions the rumour that on the only occasion when Rugg really reached Boston and drove through his THE MISSING MAN IJ own street, unable to stop the horse, the clatter of the animal's hoofs shook the houses, he quietly points out that this was nothing remarkable; "for at this day, in many of the streets, a loaded truck or team in passing will shake the houses like an earthquake." " However " he adds, " Rugg's neighbours never after- ward watched. Some of them treated it all as a delusion, and thought no more of it. Others of a different opinion shook their heads and said nothing." Here we have in perfection the penumbra of Haw- thorne. Again, when the toll-gatherer once attempted to stop Rugg on Charlestown bridge and failed, the writer adds: " Whether Rugg, or whoever the person was, ever passed the bridge again, the toll-gatherer never would tell ; and when questioned, seemed anxious to waive the subject." Thus does Austin, like Haw- thorne, skilfully discredit his own wit- i8 PETER RUGG nesses, half evoking them from the shadow, at first and then on second thoughts remanding them to the dusk again. So in the continuation of the story, which, as being a continuation only, is more ambitious than its predecessor and pro- portionately less effective, Peter Rugg appears with his equipage on a Virginia race-course, and outruns the winning steeds. One of the riders and half the spectators declare that the stranger beast is not a horse but a huge black ox and, indeed, his tracks show the cloven hoof; yet when the horse is afterwards ex- amined on a ferry-boat, it turns out that his hoofs have been accidentally split on a newly macadamized road. So when another toll-gatherer claims that the horse passed without touching the bar, the author points out that the bar is so low that so high-stepping a horse could easily draw a two-wheeled vehicle over it. Thus at each successive description, in the THE MISSING MAN Hawthorne fashion, Austin mystifies him- self with the reader, and never leaves one so wholly confused as when offering him some perfectly commonplace elucidation. The continuation of " Peter Rugg " rises at the close to a certain dignity of tone which justifies its existence. Peter Rugg at last reaches Boston with his weary child, at the very moment when an auctioneer is offering for sale his own ancient estate, now escheated to the Com- monwealth. The house is gone, the generation Rugg knew is gone, and all he can do, while peering on the alien crowd, is to recognize, in true Boston fashion, the features of the older families, Winslow and Sargent, Sewall and Dudley. " ' Will none of you speak to me ? ' " he says, " ' Will no one inform me who has demolished my house ? ' " " Then spake a voice from the crowd, but whence it came I could not discern : ' There is nothing strange here but your- 20 PETER RUGG self, Mr. Rugg. Time, which destroys and renews all things, has dilapidated your house and placed us here. You have suffered many years under an illu- sion. The tempest which you profanely defied at Menotomy has at length sub- sided; but you will never see home, for your house and wife and neighbours have all disappeared. Your estate, indeed, re- mains, but no home. You were cut off from the last age, and you can never be fitted to the present. Your home is gone, and you can never have another home in this world.' " It remains only to say that the author of " Peter Rugg," William Austin, was in his day a distinguished member of the Boston Bar. He was born at Lunen- burg, Mass., March 2, 1778, and gradu- ated at Harvard College in 1798 in the same class with the Rev. Dr. Channing, Judge Story and Stephen Longfellow, the poet's father. He gave a Bunker Hill THE MISSING MAN 21 oration in 1801 and in 1804 published a most readable volume containing " Let- ters from London " written during the years 1802 and 1803. He had dined there with Fuseli, the painter, Godwin, Hoi- croft and Wolcott (Peter Pindar), had seen something of Oxford, and had ob- served the leading orators and lawyers of the day in the courts, in Parliament and at the hustings. Returning home he practised his profession, wrote and spoke on politics and was wounded in a duel, fought in Rhode Island, with James H. Elliott. He wrote a singularly thoughtful " Essay on the Human Character of Jesus Christ " (1807) and several striking stories besides " Peter Rugg." The most remarkable of these, without doubt, is " The Man with the Cloaks, a Vermont Legend " which was published in the American Monthly Magazine (Janu- ary, 1836) and ranks well with "Peter Rugg " in respect to imaginative ability. 22 PETER RUGG The next best is " The Late Joseph Natterstrom " in the first number of the New England Magazine (July 1831) whose scene is laid in New York. He died in Charlestown, Massachusetts, June 27, 1841. THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. PETER RUGG THE MISSING MAN 22 PETER RUGG The next best is " The Late Joseph Natterstrom " in the first number of the New England Magazine (July 1831) whose scene is laid in New York. He died in Charlestown, Massachusetts, June 27, 1841. THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. PETER RUGG THE MISSING MAN PETER RUGG THE MISSING MAN From Jonathan Dunwell of New Tork, to Mr. Herman Krauff. SIR, Agreeably to my promise, I now relate to you all the particulars of the lost man and child which I have been able to collect. It is entirely owing to the humane interest you seemed to take in the report, that I have pursued the inquiry to the following result. You may remember that business called me to Boston in the summer of 1820. I sailed in the packet to Provi- dence, and when I arrived there I learned that every seat in the stage was engaged. I was thus obliged either to wait a few hours or accept a seat with the driver, who 26 PETER RUGG civilly offered me that accommodation. Accordingly, I took my seat by his side, and soon found him intelligent and communicative. When we had trav- elled about ten miles, the horses sud- denly threw their ears on their necks, as flat as a hare's. Said the driver, " Have you a surtout with you ? " " No," said I ; " why do you ask ? " " You will want one soon," said he. " Do you observe the ears of all the horses ? " " Yes ; and was just about to ask the reason." " They see the storm-breeder, and we shall see him soon." At this moment there was not a cloud visible in the firmament. Soon after, a small speck appeared in the road. " There," said my companion, " comes the storm-breeder. He always leaves a Scotch mist behind him. By many a wet jacket do I remember him. I sup- THE MISSING MAN pose the poor fellow suffers much him- self, much more than is known to the world." Presently a man with a child beside him, with a large black horse, and a weather-beaten chair, once built for a chaise-body, passed in great haste, ap- parently at the rate of twelve miles an hour. He seemed to grasp the reins of his horse with firmness, and appeared to an- ticipate his speed. He seemed dejected, and looked anxiously at the passengers, particularly at the stage-driver and my- self. In a moment after he passed us, the horses' ears were up, and bent themselves forward so they nearly met. " Who is that man ? " said I ; "he seems in great trouble." " Nobody knows who he is, but his person and the child are familiar to me. I have met him more than a hundred times, and have been so often asked the way to Boston by that man, even when v- 28 PETER RUGG he was travelling directly from that town, that of late I have refused any communication with him; and that is the reason he gave me such a fixed look." " But does he never stop anywhere ? " " I have never known him to stop anywhere longer than to inquire the way to Boston ; and let him be where he may, he will tell you he cannot stay a moment, for he must reach Boston that night." We were now ascending a high hill in Walpole; and as we had a fair view of the heavens, I was rather disposed to jeer the driver for thinking of his surtoat, as not a cloud as big as a marble could be discerned. " Do you look," said he, " in the di- rection whence the man came; that is the place to look. The storm never meets him; it follows him." We presently approached another hill; and when at the height, the driver pointed THE MISSING MAN 2Q out in an eastern direction a little black speck about as big as a hat. " There," said he, " is the seed-storm. We may possibly reach Polley's before it reaches us, but the wanderer and his child will go to Providence through rain, thunder, and lightning." And now the horses, as though taught by instinct, hastened with increased speed. The little black cloud came on rolling over the turnpike, and doubled and trebled itself in all directions. The appearance of this cloud attracted the notice of all the passengers, for after it had spread itself to a great bulk it sud- denly became more limited in circum- ference, grew more compact, dark, and consolidated. And now the successive flashes of chained lightning caused the whole cloud to appear like a sort of irregular net-work, and displayed a thousand fantastic images. The driver bespoke my attention to a remarkable 30 PETER RUGG configuration in the cloud. He said every flash of lightning near its centre discovered to him, distinctly, the form of a man sitting in an open carriage drawn by a black horse. But in truth I saw no such thing; the man's fancy was doubtless at fault. It is a very common thing for the imagination to paint for the senses, both in the visible and invisible world. In the meantime the distant thunder gave notice of a shower at hand ; and just as we reached Policy's tavern the rain poured down in torrents. It was soon over, the cloud passing in the direc- tion of the turnpike toward Providence. In a few moments after, a respectable- looking man in a chaise stopped at the door. The man and child in the chair having excited some little sympathy among the passengers, the gentleman was asked if he had observed them. He said he had met them ; that the man THE MISSING MAN seemed bewildered, and inquired the way to Boston; that he was driving at great speed, as though he expected to outstrip the tempest; that the moment he had passed him, a thunder-clap broke directly over the man's head, and seemed to envelop both man and child, horse and carriage. " I stopped," said the gentle- man, " supposing the lightning had struck him, but the horse only seemed to loom up and increase his speed ; and as well as I could judge, he travelled just as fast as the thunder-cloud." While this man was speaking, a pedler with a cart of tin merchandise came up, all dripping; and on being questioned, he said he had met that man and carriage, within a fortnight, in four different States ; that at each time he had inquired the way to Boston; and that a thunder-shower like the present had each time deluged his wagon and his wares, setting his tin pots, etc. afloat, so that he had deter- . 32 PETER RUGG mined to get a marine insurance for the future. But that which excited his sur- prise most was the strange conduct of his horse, for long before he could distin- guish the man in the chair, his own horse stood still in the road, and flung back his ears. " In short," said the pedler, " I wish never to see that man and horse again; they do not look to me as though they belonged to this world." This was all I could learn at that time; and the occurrence soon after would have become with me, " like one of those things which had never happened," had I not, as I stood recently on the door-step of Bennett's hotel in Hartford, heard a man say, " There goes Peter Rugg and his child ! he looks wet and weary, and farther from Boston than ever." I was satisfied it was the same man I had seen more than three years before; for whoever has once seen Peter Rugg can never after be deceived as to his identity. THE MISSING MAN 33 " Peter Rugg ! " said I ; " and who is Peter Rugg ? " " That," said the stranger, " is more than any one can tell exactly. He is a famous traveller, held in light esteem by all innholders, for he never stops to eat, drink, or sleep. I wonder why the gov- ernment does not employ him to carry the mail." " Ay," said a by-stander, " that is a thought bright only on one side; how long would it take in that case to send a letter to Boston, for Peter has already, to my knowledge, been more than twenty years travelling to that place." " But," said I, " does the man never stop anywhere; does he never converse with any one ? I saw the same man more than three years since, near Provi- dence, and I heard a strange story about him. Pray, sir, give me some account of this man." " Sir," said the stranger, " those who 34 PETER RUGG know the most respecting that man, say the least. I have heard it asserted that Heaven sometimes sets a mark on a man, either for judgment or a trial. Under which Peter Rugg now labours, I cannot say; therefore I am rather inclined to pity than to judge." " You speak like a humane man," said I ; " and if you have known him so long, I pray you will give me some ac- count of him. Has his appearance much altered in that time ? " "Why, yes. He looks as though he never ate, drank, or slept; and his child looks older than himself, and he looks like time broken off from eternity, and anxious to gain a resting-place." " And how does his horse look ? " said I. " As for his horse, he looks fatter and gayer, and shows more animation and courage than he did twenty years ago. The last time Rugg spoke to me he in- THE MISSING MAN 35 quired how far it was to Boston. I told him just one hundred miles. ' Why,' said he, ' how can you de- ceive me so ? It is cruel to mislead a traveller. I have lost my way; pray direct me the nearest way to Boston.' " I repeated, it was one hundred miles. How can you say so ? ' said he ; ' I was told last evening it was but fifty, and I have travelled all night.' " * But,' said I, ' you are now trav- elling from Boston. You must turn back.' " ' Alas,' said he, ' it is all turn back ! Boston shifts with the wind, and plays all around the compass. One man tells me it is to the east, another to the west; and the guide-posts too, they all point the wrong way.' " ' But will you not stop and rest ? ' said I ; ' you seem wet and weary.' ' Yes,' said he, ' it has been foul weather since I left home.' PETER RUGG " ' Stop, then, and refresh yourself.' " ' I must not stop ; I must reach home to-night, if possible: though I think you must be mistaken in the dis- tance to Boston.' " He then gave the reins to his horse, which he restrained with difficulty, and disappeared in a moment. A few days afterward I met the man a little this side of Claremont, 1 winding along the hills in Unity, at the rate, I believe, of twelve miles an hour." " Is Peter Rugg his real name, or has he accidentally gained that name ? " " I know not, but presume he will not deny his name ; you can ask him, for see, he has turned his horse, and is passing this way." In a moment a dark-coloured high- spirited horse approached, and would have passed without stopping, but I had resolved to speak to Peter Rugg, or 1 In New Hampshire. 5MIU0 THE MISSING MAN 37 whoever the man might be. Accordingly I stepped into the street; and as the horse approached, I made a feint of stopping him. The man immediately reined in his horse. " Sir," said I, " may I be so bold as to inquire if you are not Mr. Rugg ? for I think I have seen you be- fore." " My name is Peter Rugg," said he. " I have unfortunately lost my way; I am wet and weary, and will take it kindly of you to direct me to Boston." " You live in Boston, do you ; and in what street ? " " In Middle Street." " When did you leave Boston ? " "I cannot tell precisely; it seems a considerable time." " But how did you and your child be- come so wet ? It has not rained here to-day." " It has just rained a heavy shower up the river. But I shall not reach Boston 38 PETER RUGG to-night if I tarry. Would you advise me to take the old road or the turnpike ? " " Why, the old road is one hundred and seventeen miles, and the turnpike is ninety-seven." " How can you say so ? You impose on me; it is wrong to trifle with a traveller; you know it is but forty miles from New- buryport to Boston." " But this is not Newburyport; this is Hartford." " Do not deceive me, sir. Is not this town Newburyport, and the river that I have been following the Merrimack ? " "No, sir; this is Hartford, and the river the Connecticut." He wrung his hands and looked in- credulous. " Have the rivers, too, changed their courses, as the cities have changed places ? But see ! the clouds are gathering in the south, and we shall have a rainy night. Ah, that fatal oath ! " He would tarry no longer; his impa- THE MISSING MAN 39 tient horse leaped off, his hind flanks rising like wings; he seemed to devour all before him, and to scorn all behind. I had now, as I thought, discovered a clew to the history of Peter Rugg; and I determined, the next time my business called me to Boston, to make further inquiry. Soon after, I was enabled to collect the following particulars from Mrs. Croft, an aged lady in Middle Street, who has resided in Boston during the last twenty years. Her narration is this: Just at twilight last summer a person stopped at the door of the late Mrs. Rugg. Mrs. Croft on coming to the door perceived a stranger with a child by his side, in an old weather-beaten carriage, with a black horse. The stranger asked for Mrs. Rugg, and was informed that Mrs. Rugg had died at a good old age, more than twenty years before that time. 4