Some Samples of Sketch Stories

The following texts are samples of an ongoing development in sketching.  By comparing them you will get an idea how authors experiment with different techniques that will later enter into their major works. Some of these sketches are years ahead of their contemporaries, and others will forem building blocks for larger experiments.

ADDISON 1711

BARTRAM 1791

IRVING 1819/20

CROCKETT 1833

HAWTHORNE 1837

POE 1837

CHILD 1845

MELVILLE 1855

The Spectator (J. Addison) 1711

This is an early example of an urban sketch. The spectator role will become central to the art of sketching.

Number 454 [The Richmond - London sketch]

"I lay one night last week at Richmond ; and being restless, not out of dissatisfaction, but a certain busy inclination one sometimes has, I rose at four in the morning, and took boat for London, with a resolution to rove by boat and coach for the next four-and-twenty hours, till the many objects I must needs meet with should tire my imagination, and give me an inclination to a repose more profound than I was at that time capable of. I beg people's pardon for an odd humour I am guilty of, and was often that day, which is saluting any person whom I like, whether I know him or not. This is a particularity would be tolerated in me, if they considered that the greatest pleasure I know I receive at my eyes, and that I am obliged to an agreeable person for coming abroad into my view, as another is for a visit of conversation at their own houses. The hours of the day and night are taken up in the cities of London and Westminster, by people as different from each other as those who are born in different centuries. Men of six o'clock give way to those of nine, they of nine to the generation of twelve; and they of twelve disappear, and make room for the fashionable world, who have made two o'clock the noon of the day. When we first put off from shore, we soon fell in with a fleet of gardeners, bound for the several market ports of London ; and it was the most pleasing scene imaginable to see the cheerfulness with which those industrious people plied their way to a certain sale of their goods. The banks on each side are as well peopled, and beautified with as agreeable plantations, as any spot on the eaith; but the Thames itself, loaded with the product of each shore, added very much to the landscape. It was very easy to observe by their sailing, and the countenances of the ruddy virgins, who were supercargoes, the parts of the town to which they were bound. There was an air in the purveyors for Coventgarden, who frequently converse with morning rakes, very unlike the seeming sobriety of those bound for Stocks-market. Nothing remarkable happened in our voyage; but I landed with ten sail of apricot-boats, at Strandbridge, after having put in at Nine-Elms, and taken in melons, consigned by Mr. Cuffe, of that place to Sarah Sewell and Company, at their stall in Coventgarden. We arrived at Strand-bridge at six of the clock, and were unloading ; when the hackneycoachmen of the foregoing night took their leave of each other at the Dark-house, to go to bed before the day was too far spent. Chimney-sweepers passed by us as we made up to the market, and some raillery happened between one of the fruitwenches and those black men about the Devil and Eve, with allusion to their several professions. I could not believe any place more entertaining than Covent-garden ; where I strolled from one fruit-shop to another, with crowds of agreeable young women around me, who were purchasing fruit for their respective families. It was almost eight of the clock before I could leave that variety of objects. I took ( coach and followed a young lady, who tripped into ; another just before me, attended by her maid. I j saw immediately she was of the family of the Vain- j loves. There are a set of these, who, of all things, j affect the play of Blindman's-buff, and leading men j into love for they know not whom, who are lied they l know not where. This sort of woman is usually a j janty slattern ; she hangs on her clothes, plays her ' head, varies her posture, and changes place inces- ! santly, and all with an appearance of striving at the same time to hide herself, and yet give you to understand she is in humour to laugh at you. You must have often seen the coachmen make signs with their ringers, as they drive by each other, to intimate how much they have got that day. They can carry on that language to give intelligence where they are driving. In an instant my coachman took j the wink to pursue ; and the lady's driver gave the hint that he was going through Long-acre towards St. James's ; while he whipped up James-street, we drove for King-street, to save the pass at St. Martin's-lane. The coachmen took care to meet, jostle, and threaten each other for way, and be entangled at the end of NewporUstreet and Long-acre. The fright, you must believe, brought down the lady's coach-door, and obliged her, with her mask off, to inquire into the bustle, - when she sees the man she would avoid. The tackle of the coach- window is so bad she cannot draw it up again, and she drives on sometimes wholly discovered, and sometimes half escaped, according to the accident of carriages in her *ay. One of these ladies keeps her seat in a hackney-coach, as well as the best rider does on a managed horse. The laced shoe on her left foot, with a careless gesture, just appearing on the opposite cushion, held her both firm, and in a proper attitude to receive the next jolt. As she was an excellent coach-woman, many were the glances at each other which we had for an hour and a half, in all parts of the town, by the skill of our drivers ; till at last my lady was conveniently lost, with notice from her coachman to ours to make off, and he should hear where she went. This chase was now at an end : and the fellow who drove her came to us, and discovered that he was ordered to come again in an hour, for that she was a silk-worm. I was surprised with this phrase, but found it was a cant among the hackney fraternity for their best customers, women who ramble twice or thrice a week from shop to shop, to turn over all the goods in town without buying any thing. The silk-worms are, it seems, indulged by the tradesmen ; for, though they never buy, they are ever talking of new silks, laces, and ribands, and serve the owners in getting them customers, as their common dunners do in making them pay. The day of people of fashion began now to break, and carts and hacks were mingled with equipages of show and vanity ; when I resolved to walk it, out of cheapness ; but my unhappy curiosity is such, that I find it always my interest to take coach ; for some odd adventure among beggars, balladsingers, or the like, detains and throws me into expense. It happened so immediately : for at the corner of Warwick-street, as I was listening to a new ballad, a ragged rascal, a beggar who knew me. came up to me, and began to turn the eyes of the good company upon me, by telling me he was extremely poor, and should die in the street for want of drink, except I immediately would have the charity to give him six-pence to go into the next alehouse and save his life. He urged, with a melancholy face, that all his family had died of thirst. All the mob have humour, and two or three began to take the jest; by which Mr. Sturdy carried his point, and let me sneak off to a coach. As I drove along, it was a pleasing reflection to see the world | so prettily checkered since I left Richmond, and the scene still filling with children of a new hour. This ' satisfaction increased as I moved towards the city ; ! and gay signs, well-disposed streets, magnificent : public structures, and wealthy shops adorned with contented faces, made the joy still rising till we came into the centre of the city, and centre of the world of trade, the Exchange of London. As other men in the crowds about me were pleased with their hopes and bargains, I found my account in observing them, in attention to their several interests. I, indeed, looked upon myself as the richest man that walked the Exchange that day; for my benevolence made me share the gains of ev^ry bargain that was made. It wasnot the least of my satisfaction in my survey, to go up stairs, and pass the shops of agreeable females ; to observe so many pretty hands busy in the folding of ribands, and the utmost eagerness of agreeable faces in the sale of patches, pins, and wires, on each side of the counters, was an amusement in which I could longer have indulged myself, had not the dear creatures called to me, to ask what I wanted, when I could not answer, only " To look at you." I went to one of the windows which opened to the area below, where all the several voices lost their distinction, and rose up in a confused humming ; which created in me a reflection that could not come into the mind of any but of one a little too studious ; for I said to myself with a kind of pun in thought, " What nonsense is all the hurry of this world to those who are above it?" In these, or not much wiser thoughts, I had like to have lost my place at the chop-house, where every man, according to the natural bashfulness or sullenness of our nation, eats in a public room a mess of broth, or chop of meat, in dumb silence, as if they had no pretence to speak to each other on the foot of being men, except they were of each other's acquaintance. I went afterward to Robin's, and saw people, who had dined with me at the five-penny ordinary just before, give bills for the value of large estates ; and could not but behold with great pleasure, property lodged in, and transferred in a moment from, such as would never be masters of half as much as is seemingly in them, and given from them, every day they live. But before five in the afternoon I left the city, came to my common scene of Coventgarden, and passed the evening at Will's in attending the discourses of several sets of people, who relieved each other within my hearing on the subjects of cards, dice, love, learning, and politics. The last subject kept me till I heard the streets in the possession of the bellman, who had now the world ; to himself, and cried, " Past two o'clock." This roused me from my seat ; and I went to my lodgings, j led by a light, whom I put into the discourse of his private economy, and made him give me an account of the charge, hazard, profit, and loss, of a family that depended upon a link, with a design to end my trivial day with the generosity of six-pence, ...

Here is another short story, sent in by a READER:

242

The matter which I am now going to send you, is an unhappy story in low life, and will recommend itself, so that you must excuse the manner of expressing it. A poor idle drunken weaver in Spitalfields has a faithful laborious wife, who by her frugality and industry has laid by her as much money as purchased her a ticket in the present lottery. She had hid this very privately in the bottom of a trunk, and had given her number to a friend and confidant, who had promised to keep the secret, and bring her news of the success. The poor adventurer was one day gone abroad, when her careless husband suspecting she had saved some money, searches every corner, till at length he finds this same ticket; which he immediately carries abroad, sells, and squanders away the money, without his wife's suspecting any thing of the matter. A day or two after this, this friend, who was a woman, comes and brings the wife word, that she had a benefit of 500/. The poor creature, overjoyed, flies up stairs to her husband, who was then at work, and desires him to leave his loom for that evening, and come and drink with a friend of his and hers below. The man received this cheerful invitation as bad husbands sometimes do, and after a cross word or two, told her he wou'dn't come. His wife with tenderness renewed her importunity, and at length said to him, ' My love! I have within these few months, unknown to you, scraped together as much money as has bought us a ticket in the lottery, and now here is Mrs. Quick come to tell me, that it is come up this morning a 500/. prize.' The husband replies immediately, ' You lie, you slut, you have no ticket, for I have sold it,' The poor woman upon this faints away in a fit, recovers, and is now run distracted. As she had no design to defraud her husband, but was willing only to participate in his good fortune, every one pities her, but thinks her husband's punishment but just. This, Sir, is a matter of fact, and would, if the persons and circumstances were greater, in a well-wrought play be called Beautiful Distress. I have only sketched it out with chalk, and know a good hand can make a moving picture with worse materials.

William Bartram. Travels. 1791

Bartram's travel book makes an important transition from the scientific observation of plants, animals and people (he classifies plants as "tribes") in the empiric traditon of J. Locke (Emlightenment) to a romantic (imaginary) reaction to picturesque landscapes. He influenced Wordsworth, Coleridge, Irving .. and allows a comparison with a similar project in the sketches of George Catlin (1841).

Szene: Begegnung mit einem unbekannten Indianer I.3
It may be proper to observe, that I had now passed the utmost frontier of the white settlements on that border. It was drawing on towards the close of day, the skies serene and calm, the air temperately cool, and gentle zephyrs breathing through the fragrant pines; the prospect around enchantingly varied and beautiful; endless green savannas, checquered with coppices of fragrant shrubs, filled the air with the richest perfume. The gaily attired plants which enamelled the green had begun to imbibe the pearly dew of evening; nature seemed silent, and nothing appeared to ruffle the happy moments of evening contemplation; when, on a sudden, an Indian appeared crossing the path, at a considerable distance before me. On percieving that he was armed with a rifle, the first sight of him startled me, and I endeavoured to elude his sight, by stopping my pace, and keeping large trees between us; but he espied me, and turning short about, sat spurs to his horse, and came up on full gallop. I never before this was afraid at the sight of an Indian, but at this time, I must own that my spirits were very much agitated: I saw at once, that, being unarmed, I was in his power, and having now but a few moments to prepare, I resigned myself entirely to the will of the Almighty, trusting to his mercies for my preservation; my mind then became tranquil, and I resolved to meet the dreaded foe with resolution and cheerful confidence. The intrepid Siminole stopped suddenly, three or four yards before me, and silently viewed me, his countenance angry and fierce, shifting his rifle from shoulder to shoulder, and looking about instantly on all sides. I advanced towards him, and with an air of confidence offered him my hand, hailing him, brother; at this he hastily jerked back his arm, with a look of malice, rage and disdain, seeming every way discontented; when again looking at me more attentively, he instantly spurred up to me, and with dignity in his look and action, gave me his hand. Possibly the silent language of his soul, during the moment of suspense (for I believe his design was to kill me when he first came up) was after this manner: “White man, thou art my enemy, and thou and thy brethren may have killed mine; yet it may not be so, and even were that the case, thou art now alone, and in my power. Live; the Great Spirit forbids me to touch thy life; go to thy brethren, tell them thou sawest an Indian in the forests, who knew how to be humane and compassionate.” In fine, we shook hands, and parted in a friendly manner, in the midst of a dreary wilderness; and he informed me of the course and distance to the trading-house, where I found he had been extremely ill-treated the day before.
…
Can it be denied, but that the moral principle, which directs the savages to virtuous and praiseworthy actions, is natural or innate? It is certain they have not the assistance of letters, or those means of education in the schools of philosophy, where the virtuous sentiments and actions of the most illustrious characters are recorded, and carefully laid before the youth of civilized nations: therefore this moral principle must be innate, or they must be under the immediate influence and guidance of a more divine and powerful preceptor, who, on these occasions, instantly inspires them, and as with a ray of divine light, points out to them at once the dignity, propriety, and beauty of virtue.

Indianische LEGENDE: I. 3
The river St. Mary has its source from a vast lake, or marsh, called Ouaquaphenogaw, which lies between Flint and Oakmulge rivers, and occupies a space of near three hundred miles in circuit. This vast accumulation of waters, in the wet season, appears as a lake, and contains some large islands or knolls, of rich high land; one of which the present generation of the Creeks represent to be a most blissful spot of the earth: they say it is inhabited by a peculiar race of Indians, whose women are incomparably beautiful; they also tell you that this terrestrial paradise has been seen by some of their enterprising hunters, when in pursuit of game, who being lost in inextricable swamps and bogs, and on the point of perishing, were unexpectedly relieved by a company of beautiful women, whom they call daughters of the sun, who kindly gave them such provisions as they had with them, which were chiefly fruit, oranges, dates, &c. and some corn cakes, and then enjoined them to fly for safety to their own country; for that their husbands were fierce men, and cruel to strangers: they further say, that these hunters had a view of their settlements, situated on the elevated banks of an island, or promontory, in a beautiful lake; but that in their endeavours to approach it, they were involved in perpetual labyrinths, and, like enchanted land, still as they imagined they had just gained it, it seemed to fly before them, alternately appearing and disappearing. They resolved, at length, to leave the delusive pursuit, and to return; which, after a number of inexpressible difficulties, they effected. When they reported their adventures to their countrymen, their young warriors were enflamed with an irresistible desire to invade, and make a conquest of, so charming a country; but all their attempts have hitherto proved abortive, never having been able again to find that enchanting spot, nor even any road or pathway to it; yet they say that they frequently meet with certain signs of its being inhabited, as the building of canoes, footsteps of men, &c.

Pittoreske Landschaften:
These floating islands present a very entertaining prospect: for although we behold an assemblage of the primary productions of nature only, yet the imagination seems to remain in suspence and doubt; as in order to enliven the delusion, and form a most picturesque appearance, we see not only flowery plants, clumps of shrubs, old weather-beaten trees, hoary and barbed, with the long moss waving from their snags, but we also see them completely inhabited, and alive, with crocodiles, serpents, frogs, otters, crows, herons, curlews, jackdaws, &c. There seems, in short, nothing wanted but the appearance of a wigwam and a canoe to complete the scene. II.4

A magnificent grove of stately pines, succeeding to the expansive wild plains we had a long time traversed, had a pleasing effect, rousing the faculties of the mind, awakening the imagination by its sublimity, and arresting every active, inquisitive idea, by the variety of the scenery and the solemn symphony of the steady western breezes, playing incessantly, rising and falling through the thick and wavy foliage. The pine groves passed, we immediately find ourselves on the entrance of the expansive airy pine forests, on parallel chains of low swelling mounds, called the Sand Hills; their ascent so easy, as to be almost imperceptible to the progressive traveller, yet at a distant view before us in some degree exhibit the appearance of the mountainous swell of the ocean immediately after a tempest; but yet, as we approach them, they insensibly disappear, and seem to be lost, and we should be ready to conclude all to be a visionary scene, were it not for the sparkling ponds and lakes, which at the same time gleam through the open forests, before us and on every side, retaining them on the eye, until we come up with them. And at last the imagination remains flattered and dubious, by their uniformity, being mostly circular or elliptical, and almost surrounded with expansive green meadows; and always a picturesque dark grove of Live Oak, Magnolia, Gordonia, and the fragrant Orange, encircling a rocky shaded grotto of transparent water, on some border of the pond or lake; which, without the aid of any poetic fable, one might naturally suppose to be the sacred abode or temporary residence of the guardian spirit; but is actually the possession and retreat of a thundering absolute crocodile. Arrived early in the evening at the Halfway pond, where we encamped and stayed all night. II.6

Beschreibung eines Creek Dorfes (Georgia): III. 8
Leaving Coolome, I re-crossed the river at Tuccabache, an ancient and large town, thence continued up the river, and at evening arrived at Attasse, where I continued near a week, waiting the preparations of the traders, with whom I was to join in company to Augusta. The next day after my arrival, I was introduced to the ancient chiefs, at the public square or areopagus; and in the evening, in company with the traders, who are numerous in this town, repaired to the great rotunda, where were assembled the greatest number of ancient venerable chiefs and warriors that I had ever beheld: we spent the evening and great part of the night together, in drinking Cassine and smoking Tobacco. The great council house or rotunda is appropriated to much the same purpose as the public square, but more private, and seems particularly dedicated to political affairs; women and youth are never admitted; and I suppose it is death for a female to presume to enter the door, or approach within its pale. It is a vast conical building or circular dome, capable of accomodating many hundred people; constructed and furnished within, exactly in the same manner as those of the Cherokees already described, but much larger than any I had seen of them: there are people appointed to take care of it, to have it daily swept clean, to provide canes for fuel or to give light. As their vigils and manner of conducting their vespers and mystical fire in this rotunda, are extremely singular, and altogether different from the customs and usages of any other people, I shall proceed to describe them. In the first place, the governor or officer who has the management of this business, with his servants attending, orders the black drink to be brewed, which is a decoction or infusion of the leaves and tender shoots of the Cassine: this is done under an open shed or pavilion, at twenty or thirty yards distance, directly opposite the door of the council-house. Next he orders bundles of dry canes to be brought in: these are previously split and broken in pieces to about the length of two feet, and then placed obliquely crossways upon one another on the floor, forming a spiral circle round about the great centre pillar, rising to a foot or eighteen inches in height from the ground; and this circle spreading as it proceeds round and round, often repeated from right to left, every revolution increases its diameter, and at length extends to the distance of ten or twelve feet from the centre, more or less, according to the length of time the assembly or meeting is to continue. By the time these preparations are accomplished, it is night, and the assembly have taken their seats in order. The exterior extremity or outer end of the spiral circle takes fire and immediately rises into a bright flame (but how this is effected I did not plainly apprehend; I saw no person set fire to it; there might have been fire left on the earth, however I neither saw nor smelt fire or smoke until the blaze instantly ascended upwards), which gradually and slowly creeps round the centre pillar, with the course of the sun, feeding on the dry canes, and affords a cheerful, gentle and sufficient light until the circle is consumed, when the council breaks up. Soon after this illumination takes place, the aged chiefs and warriors being seated on their cabins or sophas, on the side of the house opposite the door, in three classes or ranks, rising a little, one above or behind the other; and the white people and red people of confederate towns in the like order on the left hand; a transverse range of pillars, supporting a thin clay wall about breast high, separates them: the king’s cabin or seat is in front; the next to the back of it the head warrior’s; and the third or last accommodates the young warriors, &c. The great war chief’s seat or place is on the same cabin with, and immediately to the left hand of the king, and next to the white people, and to the right hand of the mico or king the most venerable head men and warriors are seated. The assembly being now seated in order, and the house illuminated, two middle-aged men, who perform the office of slaves or servants, pro tempore, come in together at the door, each having very large conch shells full of black drink, advancing with slow, uniform and steady steps, their eyes or countenances lifted up, singing very low but sweetly, they come within six on eight paces of the king’s and white people’s cabins, when they stop together, and each rests his shell on a tripos or little table, but presently takes it up again, and, bowing very low, advances obsequiously, crossing or intersecting each other about midway: he who rested his shell before the white people now stands before the king, and the other who stopped before the king stands before the white people; when each presents his shell, one to the king and the other to the chief of the white people, and as soon as he raises it to his mouth, the slave utters or sings two notes, each of which continues as long as he has breath, and as long as these notes continue, so long must the person drink, or at least keep the shell to his mouth. These two long notes are very solemn, and at once strike the imagination with a religious awe or homage to the Supreme, sounding somewhat like a-hoo—ojah and a-lu—yah. After this manner the whole assembly are treated, as long as the drink and light continue to hold out, and as soon as the drinking begins, tobacco and pipes are brought. The skin of a wild cat or young tyger stuffed with tobacco is brought, and laid at the king’s feet, with the great or royal pipe beautifully adorned; the skin is usually of the animals of the king’s family or tribe, as the wild cat, otter, bear, rattle-snake, &c. A skin of tobacco is likewise brought and cast at the feet of the white chief of the town, and from him it passes from one to another to fill their pipes from, though each person has besides his own peculiar skin of tobacco. The king or chief smokes first in the great pipe a few whiffs, blowing it off ceremoniously, first towards the sun, or as it is generally supposed to the Great Spirit, for it is puffed upwards, next towards the four cardinal points, then towards the white people in the house; then the great pipe is taken from the hand of the mico by a slave, and presented to the chief white man, and then to the great war chief, whence it circulates through the rank of head men and warriors, then returns to the king. After this each one fills his pipe from his own or his neighbour’s skin. The great or public square generally stands alone, in the centre and highest part of the town: it consists of four-square or cubical buildings, or houses of one story, uniform, and of the same dimensions, so situated as to form an exact tetragon, encompassing an area of half an acre of ground, more or less, according to the strength or largeness of the town, or will of the inhabitants: there is a passage or avenue at each corner of equal width: each building is constructed of a wooden frame fixed strongly in the earth, the walls filled in and neatly plaistered with clay mortar; close on three sides, that is the back and two ends, except within about two feet of the wall plate or eves, which is left open for the purpose of a window and to admit a free passage of the air; the front or side next to the area is quite open like a piazza. One of these buildings which is properly the council house, where the mico, chiefs, and wariors, with the citizens who have business, or choose to repair thither, assemble every day in council, to hear, decide and rectify all grievances, complaints and contentions, arising betwixt the citizens; give audience to ambassadors, and strangers, hear news and talks from confederate towns, allies or distant nations; consult about the particular affairs of the town, as erecting habitations for new citizens, or establishing young families, concerning agriculture, &c. This building is somewhat different from the other three: it is closely shut up on three sides, that is, the back and two ends, and besides, a partition wall longitudinally from end to end divides it into two apartments, the back part totally dark, only three small arched apertures or holes opening into it from the front apartment or piazza, and little larger than just to admit a man to crawl in upon his hands and knees. This secluded place appears to me to be designed as a sanctuary^[55] <#linknote-55> dedicated to religion or rather priest craft; for here are deposited all the sacred things, as the physic pot, rattles, chaplets of deer’s hoofs and other apparatus of conjuration; and likewise the calumet or great pipe of peace, the imperial standard, or eagle’s tail, which is made of the feathers of the white eagle’s tail^[56] <#linknote-56> curiously formed and displayed like an open fan on a sceptre or staff, as white and clean as possible when displayed for peace, but when for war, the feathers are painted or tinged with vermilion. The piazza or front of this building, is equally divided into three apartments, by two transverse walls or partitions, about breast high, each having three orders or ranges of seats or cabins stepping one above and behind the other, which accommodate the senate and audience, in the like order as observed in the rotunda. The other three buildings which compose the square, are alike furnished with three ranges of cabins or sophas, and serve for a banqueting house, to shelter and accommodate the audience and spectators at all times, particularly at feasts or public entertainments, where all classes of citizens resort day and night in the summer or moderate season; the children and females however are seldom or never seen in the public square. The pillars and walls of the houses of the square were decorated with various paintings and sculptures; which I suppose to be hieroglyphic, and as an historic legendary of political and sacerdotal affairs: but they are extremely picturesque or caricature, as men in variety of attitudes, some ludicrous enough, others having the head of some kind of animal, as those of a duck, turkey, bear, fox, wolf, buck, &c. and again those kind of creatures are represented having the human head. These designs were not ill executed; the outlines bold, free and well proportioned. The pillars supporting the front or piazza of the council house of the square, were ingeniously formed in the likeness of vast speckled serpents, ascending upwards; the Ottasses being of the snake family or tribe. At this time the town was fasting, taking medicine, and I think I may say praying, to avert a grievous calamity of sickness, which had lately afflicted them, and laid in the grave abundance of their citizens. They fast seven or eight days, during which time they eat or drink nothing but a meagre gruel, made of a little corn-flour and water; taking at the same time by way of medicine or physic, a strong decoction of the roots of the Iris versicolor, which is a powerful cathartic: they hold this root in high estimation, every town cultivates a little plantation of it having a large artificial pond, just without the town, planted and almost overgrown with it, where they usually dig clay for pottery, and mortar and plaster for their buildings, and I observed where they had lately been digging up this root. In the midst of a large oblong square adjoining this town, (which was surrounded with a low bank or terrace) is standing a high pillar, round like a pin or needle; it is about forty feet in height, and between two and three feet in diameter at the earth, gradually tapering upwards to a point; it is one piece of pine wood, and arises from the centre of a low, circular, artificial hill, but it leans a little to one side. I enquired of the Indians and traders what it was designed for, who answered they knew not: the Indians said that their ancestors found it in the same situation, when they first arrived and possessed the country, adding, that the red men or Indians, then the possessors, whom they vanquished, were as ignorant as themselves concerning it, saying that their ancestors likewise found it standing so. This monument, simple as it is, may be worthy the observations of a traveller, since it naturally excites at least the following queries: for what purpose was it designed? its great antiquity and incorruptibility—what method or machines they employed to bring it to the spot, and how they raised it erect? There is no tree or species of the pine, whose wood, i. e. so large a portion of the trunk, is supposed to be incorruptible, exposed in the open air to all weathers, but the long-leaved pine (Pin. palustris), and there is none growing within twelve or fifteen miles of this place, that tree being naturally produced only on the high, dry, barren ridges, where there is a sandy soil and grassy wet savannas. A great number of men uniting their strength, probably carried it to the place on handspikes, or some such contrivance. On the Sabbath day before I set off from this place, I could not help observing the solemnity of the town, the silence and the retiredness of the red inhabitants; but a very few of them were to be seen, the doors of their dwellings shut, and if a child chanced to stray out, it was quickly drawn in doors again. I asked the meaning of this, and was immediately answered, that it being the white people’s beloved day or Sabbath, the Indians kept it religiously sacred to the Great Spirit. Last night was clear and cold, wind North West, and this morning January 2d, 1778, the face of the earth was perfectly white with a beautiful sparkling frost. Sat off for Augusta …

TEIL IV: Verallgemeinerungen
CHAPTER I. DESCRIPTION OF THE CHARACTER, CUSTOMS AND PERSONS OF THE AMERICAN ABORIGINES, FROM MY OWN OBSERVATIONS, AS WELL AS FROM THE GENERAL AND IMPARTIAL REPORT OF ANCIENT RESPECTABLE MEN, EITHER OF THEIR OWN PEOPLE, OR WHITE TRADERS, WHO HAVE SPENT MANY DAYS OF THEIR LIVES AMONGST THEM. PERSONS AND QUALIFICATIONS.
CHAPTER II. OF THEIR GOVERNMENT AND CIVIL SOCIETY.
CHAPTER III. OF THEIR DRESS, FEASTS AND DIVERTISEMENTS.
CHAPTER IV. CONCERNING PROPERTY, AGRICULTURE, ARTS AND MANUFACTURES.
CHAPTER V. OF THEIR MARRIAGE AND FUNERAL CEREMONIES.
CHAPTER VI. LANGUAGE AND MANNERS. (incl. Monuments)

W. Irving. The Sketch book

This is  major step head in constructing a sketch in paragraphs, a model for Hawthorne and Melville:

"The Country Church"


A gentleman!
What o' the woolpack? or the sugar-chest?
Or lists of velvet? which is 't, pound, or yard,
You vend your gentry by?
BEGGAR'S BUSH.

THERE are few places more favorable to the study of character than an English country church. I was once passing a few weeks at the seat of a friend who resided in, the vicinity of one the appearance of which particularly struck my fancy. It was one of those rich morsels of quaint antiquity, which gives such a peculiar charm to English landscape. It stood in the midst of a country filled with ancient families, and contained within its cold and silent aisles the congregated dust of many noble generations. The interior walls were encrusted with monuments of every age and style. The light streamed through windows dimmed with armorial bearings, richly emblazoned in stained glass. In various parts of the church were tombs of knights, and highborn dames, of gorgeous workmanship, with their effigies in colored marble. On every side, the eye was struck with some instance of aspiring mortality, some haughty memorial which human pride had erected over its kindred dust in this temple of the most humble of all religions.

The congregation was composed of the neighboring people of rank, who sat in pews sumptuously lined and cushioned, furnished with richly-gilded prayer-books, and decorated with their arms upon the pew doors; of the villagers and peasantry, who filled the back seats and a small gallery beside the organ; and of the poor of the parish, who were ranged on benches in the aisles.
....
I was as yet a stranger in England, and curious to notice the manners of its fashionable classes. I found, as usual, that there was the least pretension where there was the most acknowledged title to respect. I was particularly struck, for instance, with the family of a nobleman of high rank, consisting of several sons and daughters. Nothing could be more simple and unassuming than their appearance. They generally came to church in the plainest equipage, and often on foot. The young ladies would stop and converse in the kindest manner with the peasantry, caress the children, and listen to the stories of the humble cottagers. Their countenances were open and beautifully fair, with an expression of high refinement, but at the same time a frank cheerfulness and engaging affability.
....
I have been rather minute in drawing the pictures of these two families, because I considered them specimens of what is often to be met with in this country-the unpretending great, and the arrogant little. I have no respect for titled rank, unless it be accompanied with true nobility of soul; but I have remarked, in all countries where artificial distinctions exist, that the very highest classes are always the most courteous and unassuming. Those who are well assured of their own standing are least apt to trespass on that of others; whereas, nothing is so offensive as the aspirings of vulgarity, which thinks to elevate itself by humiliating its neighbor.

As I have brought these families into contrast, I must notice their behavior in church. That of the nobleman's family was quiet, serious, and attentive. Not that they appeared to have any fervor of devotion, but rather a respect for sacred things, and sacred places, inseparable from good-breeding. The others, on the contrary, were in a perpetual flutter and whisper; they betrayed a continual consciousness of finery, and the sorry ambition of being the wonders of a rural congregation.

The old gentleman was the only one really attentive to the service. He took the whole burden of family devotion upon himself; standing bolt upright, and uttering the responses with a loud voice that might be heard all over the church. It was evident that he was one of these thorough Church-and-king men, who connect the idea of devotion and loyalty; who consider the Deity, somehow or other, of the government party, and religion "a very excellent sort of thing, that ought to be countenanced and kept up."

When he joined so loudly in the service, it seemed more by way of example to the lower orders, to show them that, though so great and wealthy, he was not above being religious; as I have seen a turtle-fed alderman swallow publicly a basin of charity soup, smacking his lips at every mouthful and pronouncing it "excellent food for the poor."

When the service was at an end, I was curious to witness the several exits of my groups. The young noblemen and their sisters, as the day was fine, preferred strolling home across the fields, chatting with the country people as they went. The others departed as they came, in grand parade. Again were the equipages wheeled up to the gate. There was again the smacking of whips, the clattering of hoofs, and the glittering of harness. The horses started off almost at a bound; the villagers again hurried to right and left; the wheels threw up a cloud of dust, and the aspirin family was rapt out of sight in a whirlwind.

David Crockett. Sketches (1833)

as an early sample for the Midwestern American style 189-90 hunting bear with a dog Brutus: Oral, vernacular ..


"But to my tale. The next morning betimes, the colonel and his friend were stirring ; and having prepared their breakfast, they set out hunting. " I was going 'long," said he, " down to a little Harricane, 'bout three miles from our tent, where I knew there must be a plenty of bear. 'Twas mighty cold, and my dogs were in fine order and very busy hunting, when I seed where a piece of bark had been scratched ofl' a tree. I said to my companion, there is a bear in the hollow of this tree. I examined the sign, and I knew I was right. I called my dogs to me ; but to git at him was the thing. The tree was so large 'twould take all day to cut it down, and there was no chance to climb it. But upon looking about, I found
that there was a tree near the one the bear was
in ; and if I could make it fall agin it, I could then
climb up and git him out. I fell to work and cut
the tree down; but, as the devil would have it, it
lodged before it got there. So that scheme was
knocked in the head.

" I then told my companion to cut away upon
the big tree, and I would go off some distance to
see if I could n't see him. He fell to work, and


COLONEL DAVID CROCKETT. 99

he had n't been at it long before I seed the old bear
poke his head out ; but I could n't shoot him, for if
I did, I would hit him in the head, and he would
fall backwards; so I had to wait for him to come
out. I did n't say any thing ; but it wan't a
minute before he rim out upon a limb and jumped
do\\'n.

" I run as hard as I could, but before I got there
he and the dogs were hard at it. I didn't see
much of the fight before they all rolled dov/n a
steep hill, and the bear got loose and broke, right
in the direction of the Harricane. He was a
mighty large one, and I was 'fraid my dogs would
lose him, 'twas such a thick place. I started after
him, and told my friend to come on. Well, of all
the thick places that ever you did see, that bear
canied me through some of the thickest. The dogs
would sometimes bring him to bay, and I would
try for my life to git up to 'em, but when I would
get most there, he would git loose. He devilled me
mightily, I tell you. I reckon I went a mile after
that bear upon my hands and knees, just creeping
through briars, and if I had n't had deer leather
clothes on, they would ha^'e torn me in pieces.

I got wet ; and was mighty tired stooping so
much. Sometimes I went through places so thick
that I don't see how any thing could git through ;
and I don't blieve I could, if I had n't heard the
dogs fighting just before me. Sometimes I would
look back, and I could n't see how I got along.


100 SKETCHES AND ECCENTRICITIES OF

But once I got in a clear place ; my dogs, tired of
fighting, had brought the bear again to bay, and I
had my head up, looking out to git a shoot, when
the first thing I knew I was up to my breast in a
sink hole of water. I was so infernal mad that I
had a notion not to git out ; but I began to think
it would n't spite any body, and so I scrambled
out. My powder was all wet, except the load in
my gun, and I did n't know what to do. I had
been sweating all the morning, and I was tired,
and I looked rather queer with my wet leather
clothes on ; but I harked my dogs on, and once
more I heard 'em fighting. I run on, and while I
was going 'long I heard something jump in the
water. When I got there, I seed the bear going up
the other bank of the Obion river - I had n't time
to shoot him before he was out of sight - he looked
mighty tired. When I come to look at my dogs,
I could hardly help from crying. Old Tiger and
Brutus were sitting upon the edge of the water,
whining because they could n't git over ; and I
had a mighty good dog named Carlow, - he was
standing in the water ready to swim ; and I ob-
served as the water passed by him it was right
red, - he was mighty badly cut. When I come
to notice my other dogs, they were all right bloody,
and it made me so mad that I harked 'em on, and
determined to kill the bear.

" I hardly spoke to 'em before there was a gene-
ral plunge, and each of my dogs just formed a


COLONEL DAVID CROCKETT. 101

streak going straight across. I watched 'em till
they got out on the bank, when they all shook
themselves, old Carlow opened, and off they all
started. I sat down upon an old log. The water
was right red where my dogs jumped in, and I
loved 'em so much it made me mighty sorry.
When I come to think how willingly they all
jumped in when I told 'em, though they were
badly cut and tired to death, I thought I ought to
go and help 'em.

" It was now about twelve o'clock. My dogs
had been running ever since sunrise, and we had
all passed through a harricane, which of itself was
a day's work. I could hear nothing of my com-
panion ; I whooped, but there was no answer ; and
I concluded that he had been unable to follow me,
and had gone back to the tent. I looked up and
down the river, to see if there was a chance to
cross it ; but there was none - no canoe was with-
in miles of me. While I was thinking of all these
things my dogs v/ere trailing ; but ail at once I
heard 'em fighting. I jumped up - I hardly knew
what to do, when a notion struck me to roll in the
log I had been sitting on, and cross over on that.
'Twas a part of an old tree, twelve or fifteen feet
long, lying on a slant. I gave it a push, and into
the water it went. I got an old limb, straddled the
log, with my feet in the water, and pushed off.
'Twas mighty ticklish work : I had to lay the limb
across, like a balance pole, to keep me from turn-


102 SKETCHES AND ECCENTRICITIES OF

ing over, and then paddle with the hand that
wasn't holding the rifle. The log didn't float
good, and the water came up over my thighs.
After a while I got over safe, fastened my old log
to go back upon, and as I went up the bank I
heard my dogs tree. I run to 'em as fast as I
could ; and sure enough I saw the old bear up in a
crotch. My dogs were all lying down under him,
and I don't know which was the most tired, they
or the bear,

" I knew I had him, so I just sat down and
rested a little ; and then, to keep my dogs quiet,
I got up, and old Betsy thundered at him. I shot
him right through the heart, and he fell without a
struggle. I run up and stuck my knife into him
several times up to the hilt, just because he devil-
led me so much ; but I had hardly pulled it out
before I was sorry, for he had fought all day like
a man, and would have got clear but for me.


another:

The sun was something like two hours high, and
the evening was calm and still. I had never at
this time killed an elk, and was very anxious to do
so. I found where they had crossed the road, left
my little boy the horse to go home, and followed
after them. The ground was rather hard, and
their tracks almost imperceptible ; but I noticed
Avhere the grass was bruised by their treading,
and sometimes I could see where they had bit a
bush ; in this way I followed after them. I went,
I s'pose, about a mile, when I seed my elk feeding
in a little prairie ; there were no trees near me ;
so I got down, and tried to root my way to 'em,
but they had got a notion of me. for the}' would
feed a while, and then turn tlicir heads back and
look for me, and then run off a little. We soon
got into the woods agin, and I begun to work 'em
right badly. When they were feeding, I'd git a
a tree 'tween me and them, and run as hard as I
could, then peep round to see 'em, and get down.
root myself behind another tree, and then run agin."

N. Hawthorne. Twice Told Tales

Hawthorne adds a moving perspective (panorama) and creates the illusion of a live sketching:

"Sights from a Steeple"


SO! I HAVE climbed high, and my reward is small. Here I stand, with wearied knees,
earth, indeed, at a dizzy depth below, but heaven far, far beyond me still. O that I could
soar up into the very zenith, where man never breathed, nor eagle ever flew, and where
the ethereal azure melts away from the: eye, and appears only a deepened shade of
nothingness! And yet I shiver at that cold and solitary thought. What clouds are
gathering in the golden west, with direful intent against the brightness and the warmth
of this summer afternoon! They are ponderous air ships, black as death, and freighted
with the tempest; and at intervals their thunder, the signal-guns of that unearthly
squadron, rolls distant along the deep of heaven. These nearer heaps of fleecy vapor--
methinks I could roll and toss upon them the whole day long!--seem scattered here and
there, for the repose of tired pilgrims through the sky. Perhaps--for who can tell?--
beautiful spirits are disporting themselves there, and will bless my mortal eye with the
brief appearance of their curly locks of golden light and laughing faces, fair and faint as
the people of a rosy dream. Or, where the floating mass so imperfectly obstructs the
color of the firmament, a slender foot and fairy limb, resting too heavily upon the frail
support, may be thrust through, and suddenly withdrawn, while longing fancy follows
them in vain. Yonder again is an airy archipelago, where the sunbeams love to linger in
their journeyings through space. Every one of those little clouds has been dipped and
steeped in radiance, which the slightest pressure might disengage in silvery profusion,
like water wrung from a sea-maid's hair. Bright they are as young man's visions, and
like them, would be realized in chillness, obscurity and tears. I will look on them no
more.

In three parts of the visible circle, whose centre is this spire, I discern cultivated fields,
villages, white country-seats, the waving lines of rivulets, little placid lakes, and here
and there a rising ground, that would fain be termed a hill. On the fourth side is the sea,
stretching away towards a viewless boundary, blue and calm, except where the passing
anger of a shadow flits across its surface, and is gone. Hitherward a broad inlet
penetrates far into the land; on the verge of the harbour, formed by its extremity, is a
town; and over it am I, a watchman, all-heeding and unheeded. O that the multitude of
chimneys could speak, like those of Madrid, and betray, in smoky whispers, the secrets
of all who, since their first foundation, have assembled at the hearths within! O that the
Limping Devil of Le Sage would perch beside me here, extend his wand over this
contiguity of roofs, uncover every chamber, and make me familiar with their
inhabitants! The most desirable mode of existence might be that of a spiritualized Paul
Pry, hovering invisible round man and woman, witnessing their deeds, searching into
their hearts, borrowing brightness from their felicity, and shade from their sorrow, and
retaining no emotion peculiar to himself. But none of these things are possible; and if I
would know the interior of brick walls, or the mystery of human bosoms, I can but
guess.

Yonder is a fair street, extending north and south. The stately mansions are placed each
on its carpet of verdant grass, and a long flight of steps descends from every door to the
pavement. Ornamental trees, the broad-leafed horsechestnut, the elm so lofty and
bending, the graceful but infrequent willow, and others whereof I know not the names,
grow thrivingly among brick and stone. The oblique rays of the sun are intercepted by
these green citizens, and by the houses, so that one side of the street is a shaded and
pleasant walk. On its whole extent there is now but a single passenger, advancing from
the upper end; and he, unless distance, and the medium of a pocket spy-glass do him
more than justice, is a fine young man of twenty. He saunters slowly forward; slapping
his left hand with his folded gloves, bending has eyes upon the pavement, and
sometimes raising them to throw a glance before him. Certainly, he has a pensive air. Is
he in doubt, or in debt? Is he, if the question be allowable, in love? Does he strive to be
melancholy and gentlemanlike?--Or, is he merely overcome by the heat? But I bid him
farewell, for the present. The door of one of the houses, an aristocratic edifice, with
curtains of purple and gold waving from the windows, is now opened, and down the
steps come two ladies, swinging their parasols, and lightly arrayed for a summer
ramble. Both are young, both are pretty; but methinks the left hand lass is the fairer of
the twain; and though she be so serious at this moment, I could swear that there is a
treasure of gentle fun within her. They stand talking a little while upon the steps, and
finally proceed up the street. Meantime, as their faces are now turned from me, I may
look elsewhere.

Upon that wharf, and down the corresponding street, is a busy contrast to the quiet
scene which I have just noticed. Business evidently has its centre there, and many a man
is wasting the summer afternoon in labor and anxiety, in losing riches, or in gaining
them, when he would be wiser to flee away to some pleasant country village, or shaded
lake in the forest, or wild and cool sea-beach. I see vessels unlading at the wharf, and
precious merchandise strewn upon the ground, abundantly as at the bottom of the sea,
that market whence no goods return, and where there is no captain nor supercargo to
render an account of sales. Here, the clerks are diligent with their paper and pencils, and
sailors ply the block and tackle that hang over the hold, accompanying their toil with
cries, long-drawn and roughly melodious, till the bales and Luncheons ascend to upper
air. At a little distance, a group of gentlemen are assembled round the door of a
warehouse. Grave seniors be they, and I would wager--if it were safe, in these times, to
be responsible, for any one--that the least eminent among them, might vie with old
Vincentio, that incomparable trafficker of Pisa. I can even select the wealthiest of the
company. It is the elderly personage in somewhat rusty black, with powdered hair, the
superfluous whiteness of which is visible upon the cape of his coat. His twenty ships are
wafted on some of their many courses by every breeze that blows, and his name--I will
venture to say, though I know it not--is a familiar sound among the far separated
merchants of Europe and the Indies.

But I bestow too much of my attention in this quarter. On looking again to the long and
shady walk, I perceive that the two fair girls have encountered the young man. After a
sort of shyness in the recognition, he turns back with them. Moreover, he has sanctioned
my taste in regard to his companions by placing himself on the inner side of the
pavement, nearest the Venus to whom I--enacting, on a steeple-top, the part of Paris on
the top of Ida-adjudged the golden apple.

In two streets, converging at right angles towards my watchtower, I distinguish three
different processions. One is a proud array of voluntary soldiers in bright uniform,
resembling, from the height whence I look down, the painted veterans that garrison the
windows of a toy-shop. And yet, it stirs my heart; their regular advance, their nodding
plumes, the sun-flash on their bayonets and musket-barrels, the roll of their drums
ascending past me, and the fife ever and anon piercing through--these things have
wakened a warlike fire, peaceful though I be. Close to their rear marches a battalion of
school-boys, ranged in crooked and irregular platoons, shouldering sticks, thumping a
harsh and unripe clatter from an instrument of tin, and ridiculously aping the intricate
manoeuvres of the band. Nevertheless, as slight differences are scarcely perceptible
from a church spire, one might be tempted to ask, "Which are the boys?"or rather,
"Which the men?" But, leaving these, let us turn to the third procession, which, though
sadder in outward show, may excite identical reflections in the thoughtful mind. It is a
funeral. A hearse, drawn by a black and bony steed, and covered by a dusty pall; two or
three coaches rumbling over the stones, their drivers half asleep; a dozen couple of
careless mourners in their every day attire; such was not the fashion of our fathers, when
they carried a friend to his grave. There is now no doleful clang of the bell, to proclaim
sorrow to the town. Was the King of Terrors more awful in those days than in our own,
that wisdom and philosophy have been able to produce this change? Not so. Here is a
proof that he retains his proper majesty. The military men, and the military boys, are
wheeling round the corner, and meet the funeral full in the face. Immediately, the drum
is silent, all but the tap that regulates each simultaneous foot-fall. The soldiers yield the
path to the dusty hearse, and unpretending train, and the children quit their ranks, and
cluster on the sidewalks, with timorous and instinctive curiosity. The mourners enter the
church-yard at the base of the steeple, and pause by an open grave among the burial
stones; the lighting glimmers on them as they lower down the coffin, and the thunder
rattles heavily while they throw the earth upon its lid. Verily, the shower is near, and I
tremble for the young man and the girls, who have now disappeared from the long and
shady street.

How various are the situations of the people covered by the roofs beneath me, and how
diversified are the events at this moment befalling them! The new-born, the aged, the
dying, the strong in life, and the recent dead, are in the chambers of these many
mansions. The full of hope, the happy, the miserable, and the desperate, dwell together
within the circle of my glance. In some of the houses over which my eyes roam so
coldly, guilt is entering into hearts that are still tenanted by a debased and trodden
virtue,--guilt is on the very edge of commission, and the impending deed might be
averted; guilt is done, and the criminal wonders if it be irrevocable. There are broad
thoughts struggling in my mind, and, were I able to give them distinctness, they would
make their way in eloquence. Lo! the rain-drops are descending.

The clouds, within a little time, have gathered over all the sky, hanging heavily, as if
about to drop in one unbroken mass upon the earth. At intervals, the lightning flashes
from their brooding hearts, quivers, disappears, and then comes the thunder, travelling
slowly after its twin-born flame. A strong wind has sprung up, howls through the
darkened streets, and raises the dust in dense bodies, to rebel against the approaching
storm. The disbanded soldiers fly, the funeral has already vanished like its dead, and all
people hurry homeward--all that have a home; while a few lounge by the corners, or
trudge on desperately, at their leisure. In a narrow lane which communicates with the
shady street, I discern the rich old merchant, putting himself to the top of his speed, lest
the rain should convert his hair-powder to a paste. Unhappy gentleman! By the slow
vehemence, and painful moderation wherewith he journeys, it is but too evident that
Podagra has left its thrilling tenderness in his great toe. But yonder, at a far more rapid
pace, come three other of my acquaintance, the two pretty girls and the young man,
unseasonably interrupted in their walk. Their footsteps are supported by the risen dust,
the wind lends them its velocity, they fly like three sea-birds driven landward by the
tempestuous breeze. The ladies would not thus rival Atalanta, if they but knew that any
one were at leisure to observe them. Ah! as they hasten onward, laughing in the angry
face of nature, a sudden catastrophe has chanced. At the corner where the narrow lane
enters into the street, they come plump against the old merchant, whose tortoise motion
has just brought him to that point. He likes not the sweet encounter; the darkness of the
whole air gathers speedily upon his visage, and there is a pause on both sides. Finally he
thrusts aside the youth with little courtesy, seizes an arm of each of the two girls, and
plods onward, like a magician with a prize of captive fairies. All this is easy to be
understood. How disconsolate the poor lover stands! regardless of the rain that threatens
an exceeding damage to his wellfashioned habiliments, till he catches a backward
glance of mirth from a bright eye, and turns away with whatever comfort it conveys.

The old man and his daughters are safely housed, and now the storm lets loose its fury.
In every dwelling I perceive the faces of the chambermaids as they shut down the
windows, excluding the impetuous shower, and shrinking away from the quick fiery
glare. The large drops descend with force upon the slated roofs, and rise again in smoke.
There is a rush and roar, as of a river through the air, and muddy streams bubble
majestically along the pavement, whirl their dusky foam into the kennel, and disappear
beneath iron grates. Thus did Arethusa sink. I love not my station here aloft, in the
midst of the tumult which I am powerless to direct or quell, with the blue lightning
wrinkling on my brow, and the thunder muttering its first awful syllables in my ear. I
will descend. Yet let me give another glance to the sea, where the foam breaks out in
long white lines upon a broad expanse of blackness, or boils up in far distant points, like
snowy mountain tops in the eddies of a flood; and let me look once more at the green
plain, and little hills of the country, over which the giant of the storm is striding in robes
of mist, and at the town, whose obscured and desolate streets might beseem a city of the
dead: and turning a single moment to the sky, now gloomy as an author's prospects,.I
prepare to resume my station on lower earth. But stay! A little speck of azure has
widened in the western heavens; the sunbeams find a passage, and go rejoicing through
the tempest; and on yonder darkest cloud, born, like hallowed hopes, of the glory of
another world, and the trouble and tears of this, brightens forth the Rainbow!

E. A. Poe

This sketch is  symbolic construction - a mental drama - which combines portrait, landscape sketch and a tomb scene. It needs footnotes (https://www.eapoe.org/works/info/pt008.htm)

SILENCE - A FABLE. [E]  [[v]]

‘Ενδονσιν δ’ ορεων κορνφαι τε και φαράγγες

Πρώονές τε και χάραδραι. ALCMAN.

The mountain pinnacles slumber; valleys, crags and caves are silent. [[v]] [[n]]

“Listen to me,” said the Demon, as he placed his hand upon my head.{a} “The region of which I speak is a dreary region in Libya, by the borders of the river Zäire.(1) And there is no quiet there, nor silence.

“The waters of the river have a saffron and sickly hue; and they flow not onward{b} to the sea, but palpitate forever and forever beneath the red eye of the sun with a tumultuous and convulsive motion. For many miles on either side of the river's oozy bed is a pale desert of gigantic water-lilies. They sigh one unto the other in that solitude, and stretch towards the heaven their long and{c} ghastly necks, and nod to and fro their everlasting heads.(2) And there is an indistinct murmur which cometh out from among them like the rushing of subterrene water. And they sigh one unto the other.

“But there is a boundary to their realm - the boundary of the dark, horrible, lofty forest. There, like the waves about the Hebrides, the low underwood is agitated continually. But there is no wind throughout the heaven. And the tall primeval trees rock eternally hither and thither with a crashing and mighty sound. And from their high summits, one by one, drop everlasting dews. And at the roots strange poisonous flowers lie writhing in perturbed slumber. And overhead, with a rustling and loud noise, the gray clouds rush westwardly forever, until they roll, a cataract, over [page 196:] the fiery wall of the horizon.(3) But there is no wind throughout the heaven. And by the shores of the river Zäire there is neither quiet nor silence.

“It was night, and the rain fell; and, falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood.(4) And I stood in the morass among the tall lilies, and the rain fell upon my head - and the lilies sighed one unto the other in the solemnity of their desolation.

“And, all at once, the moon arose through the thin ghastly mist, and was crimson in color. And mine eyes fell upon a huge gray rock which stood by the shore of the river, and was lighted{d} (5) by the light of the moon. And the rock was gray, and ghastly, and tall, - and the rock was gray. Upon its front were characters engraven in the stone; and I walked through the morass of water-lilies, until I came close unto the shore, that I might read the characters upon the stone. But I could not decypher them.{e} And I was going back into the morass, when the moon shone with a fuller red, and I turned and looked again upon the rock, and upon the characters; - and the characters were DESOLATION.

“And I looked upwards, and there stood a man upon the summit of the rock; and I hid myself among the water-lilies that I might discover the actions of the man. And the man was tall and stately in form, and was wrapped up from his shoulders to his feet in the toga of old Rome. And the outlines of his figure were indistinct - but his features were the features of a deity; for the mantle of the night, and of the mist, and of the moon, and of the dew, had left uncovered the features of his face. And his brow was lofty with thought, and his eye wild with care; and, in the few furrows upon his cheek I read the fables of sorrow, and weariness, and disgust with mankind, and a longing after solitude.{f} (6)

“And the man sat{g} upon the rock, and leaned his head upon his hand, and looked out upon the desolation(7) He looked down into the low unquiet shrubbery, and up into the tall primeval trees,{h} [page 197:] and up higher at the rustling heaven, and into the crimson moon. And I lay close within shelter of the lilies, and{i} observed the actions of the man. And the man trembled in the solitude; - but the night waned, and he sat upon the rock.

“And the man turned his attention from the heaven, and looked out upon the dreary river Zäire, and upon the yellow ghastly waters, and upon the pale legions of the water-lilies. And the man listened to the sighs of the water-lilies, and to{j} the murmur that came up from among them. And I lay close within my covert and{k} observed the actions of the man. And the man trembled in the solitude; - but the night waned and he sat upon the rock.

“Then I went down into the recesses of the morass, and waded afar{l} in among the wilderness of the lilies, and called unto the hippopotami which dwelt among the fens in the recesses of the morass. And the hippopotami heard my call, and came, with the behemoth,(8) unto the foot of the rock, and roared loudly and fearfully beneath the moon. And I lay close within my covert and observed the actions of the man. And the man trembled in the solitude; - but the night waned and he sat upon the rock.

“Then I cursed the {mm}elements with the curse of tumult; and,{mm} a frightful tempest gathered in the heaven{n} where, before, there had been no wind. And the heaven became livid with the violence of the tempest - and the rain beat upon the head of the man - and the floods of the river came down - and the river was tormented into foam - and the water-lilies shrieked within their beds - and the forest{o} crumbled before the wind - and the {pp}thunder rolled{pp} and the lightning{q} fell - and the rock rocked to its foundation. And I lay close within my covert and{r} observed the actions of the man. And the man trembled in{s} the solitude; - but the night waned and he sat upon the rock,

“Then I grew angry and cursed, with {tt}the curse of silence,{tt} the [page 198:] river, and the lilies, and the wind, and the forest, and the heaven, and the thunder, and the sighs of the water-lilies. And they became accursed, and were still. And the moon ceased to totter up{u} its pathway to{v} heaven(9) - and the thunder died away - and the lightning did not flash - and the clouds hung motionless - and the waters sunk to their level and remained - and the trees ceased to rock - and the water-lilies sighed no more - and the murmur was heard no longer from among them, nor any shadow of sound throughout the vast illimitable desert. And I looked upon the characters of the rock, and they were changed; - and the characters were SILENCE.(10)

“And mine eyes fell upon the countenance of the man, and his countenance was wan with terror. {ww}And, hurriedly, he{ww} raised his head from his hand, and stood forth upon the rock and listened. But there was no voice throughout the vast illimitable desert, and the characters upon the rock were SILENCE. And the man shuddered, and turned his face away, and fled afar off, {xx}in haste, so that I beheld{xx} him no more.”

* * * * *

M. L. Child

LETTERS FROM NEW-YORK II, 16 (1845)

Some eighteen years ago, when I lived in the dream-land of romantic youth, and thought nothing
of slavery, or any other evils that infest the social system, an intelligent young lady from the South
told me an adventure, which made a strong impression on my imagination. She was travelling with
her brother in the interior of eastern Virginia. Marks of diminishing prosperity everywhere met their view.
One day, they entered upon a region which seemed entirely deserted. Here and there some elegant villa
indicated the former presence of wealth ; but piazzas had fallen, and front doors had either dropped, or
hung suspended upon one hinge. Here and there a stray garden-flower peeped forth, amid the choking
wilderness of weeds ; and vines, once carefully trained on lattices, spread over the ground in tangled con-
fusion. Nothing disturbed the silence, save the twittering of some startled bird, or the hoot and scream
of gloomy wood creatures, scared by the unusual noise of travellers.
At last, they came to a church, through the roof of which a tree, rooted in the central aisle beneath,
sent up its verdant branches into the sunlight above. Leaving their horse to browse on the grass-grown
road, they passed into the building, to examine the interior. Their entrance startled innumerable birds
and bats, which flew circling round their heads, and through the broken windows.
The pews had coatsof-arms blazoned on the door-pannels, but birds had built their nests in the corners,
and grass had grown up through the chinks of the floor. The handsome trimmings of the pulpit
were so covered with dust, as to leave the original colour extremely doubtful. On the cushion lay
a gilt-edged Bible, still open, probably at the place where religious lessons had last been read.
I have before my mind's eye a vivid picture of that lonely church, standing in the silence of the forest.
In some moods of mind, how pleasant it would be to spend the Sabbath there alone, listening to the insects
singing their prayers, or to the plaintive voice of the ring-dove, coming up from the inmost heart of the
shaded forest,

" Whose deep, low note, is like a gentle wife,
A poor, a pensive, yet a happy one,
Stealing, when daylight's common tasks are done,
An hour for mother's work ; and singing low,
While her tired husband and her children sleep."

In the stillness of Nature there is ever something sacred; for she pleadeth tenderly with man that he
will live no more at discord with her; and, like the eloquent dumb boy, she ever carryeth
"great names for God in her heart."

" 'Neath cloistered boughs, each floral bell that swingeth,
And tolls its perfume on the passing air,
Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth
A call to prayer."

I can never forget that adventure in the wilderness. There is something sadly impressive in such complete desolation,
where life has once been busy and gay—and where human pride has inscribed its transient history with the
mouldering insignia of rank and wealth.
The rapid ruin and the unbroken stillness seemed so much like a work of enchantment, that the travellers named the place
The Hamlet of the Seven Sleepers. At the next inhabited village, they obtain ed a brief outline of its history.
It had been original ly settled by wealthy families, with large plantations and numerous slaves.
They were Virginian gentlemen of the olden school, and would have felt them selves disgraced by the modern business
of breeding slaves for market. In fact, strong family pride made them extremely averse to sell any slave
that had be longed to their ancestors. So the slaves multiplied on their hands, and it soon took
" all their corn to feed their hogs, and all their hogs to feed their negroes." Matters grew worse and worse with these
old families. The strong soil was at last exhausted by the miserable system of slavery, and would no longer yield its increase.
What could these aristocratic gentlemen do for their sons, under such circumstances? Plantations must be bought for them
in the far Southwest, and they must disperse, with their trains of human cattle, to blight other new and fertile regions.
There is an old superstition, that nograss grows where the devil has danced; and the effects of slavery show that this tradition,
like most others, is born of truth. It is not, as some suppose, a special vengeance on the wicked system; it is a simple result
of the universal and intimate relation between spirit and matter. Freedom "writes itself on the earth in growth and beauty;
oppression, in dreariness and decay. If we attempt to trace this effect analytically, we shall find that it originates in landholders
too proud to work, in labourers deprived of healthful motive, in the inevitable intermediate class of overseers,
who have no interest in the soil or the labourers ; but whose pay depends on the forced product they can extort from both.
Mr. Faulkner, of Virginia, has stated the case impressively: "Compare the condition of the slave-holding portion of this
commonwealth, barren, desolate, and seared as it were by the avenging hand of Heaven, with the description
which we have of this same country from those who first broke its soil. To what is this change
ascribable? Alone to the blasting and withering effects of slavery. To that vice in the organization
of society, by which one half its inhabitants are arrayed in interest and feeling against the other half;
to that condition of things, in which half a million of your population can feel no sympathy with society,
in the prosperity of which they are forbidden to participate, and no attachment to a government
at whose hands they receive nothing but injustice."
...

H. Melville

from Israel Potter (1855)

25. In the City of Dis

The Thames, which far away, among the green fields of Berks, ran clear as a brook, here, polluted by continual vicinity to man, curdled on between rotten, wharves, one murky sheet of sewerage. Fretted by the ill-built piers, awhile it crested and hissed, then shot balefully through the Erebus arches, desperate as the lost souls of the harlots, who, every night, took the same plunge.
Meantime, here and there, like awaiting hearses, the coal-scows drifted along, poled broadside, pell-mell to the current.

And as that tide in the water swept all craft on, so a like tide seemed hurrying all men, all horses, all vehicles on the land.
As ant-hills, the bridge arches crawled with processions of carts, coaches, drays, every sort of wheeled, rumbling thing, the noses of the horses behind touching the backs of the vehicles in advance, all bespattered with ebon mud-ebon mud that stuck like Jews' pitch. At times the mass, receiving some mysterious impulse far in the rear, away among the coiled thoroughfares out of sight, would start forward with a spasmodic surge. It seemed as if some squadron of centaurs, on the thither side of Phlegethon, with charge on charge, was driving tormented humanity, with all its chattels, across.

Whichever way the eye turned, no tree, no speck of any green thing was seen-no more than in smithies. All laborers, of whatsoever sort, were hued like the men in foundries. The black vistas of streets were as the galleries in coal mines; the flagging, as flat tomb-stones, minus the consecration of moss, and worn heavily down, by sorrowful tramping, as the vitreous rocks in the cursed Gallipagos, over which the convict tortoises crawl.
As in eclipses, the sun was hidden; the air darkened; the whole dull, dismayed aspect of things, as if some neighboring volcano,  belching its premonitory smoke, were about to whelm the great town, as Herculaneum and Pompeii, or the Cities of the Plain. And as they had been upturned in terror towards the mountain, all faces were more or less snowed or spotted with soot. Nor marble, nor flesh, nor the sad spirit of man, may in this cindery City of Dis abide white.

this will be followed by a passage from "The Encantadas."