The manxman

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Title:TheManxman
ANovel-1895

Author:HallCaine

ReleaseDate:May23,2008[EBook#25570]

Language:English

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ProducedbyDavidWidger



THEMANXMAN

ANOVEL



ByHallCaine



SECONDEDITION

APPLETONANDCOMPANY-1894

THEMANXMAN.

PARTI.BOYSTOGETHER.

I.

OldDeemsterChristianofBallawhainewasahardman—hardonthe
outside,atallevents.TheycalledhimIronChristian,andpeoplesaid,
“Don’tturnthatironhandagainstyou.”Yethischaracterwasstamped
withnoblenessaswellasstrength.Hewasnotamanoficynature,but
helovedtogathericiclesabouthim.Therewasfireenoughunderneath,
atwhichhewarmedhisoldheartwhenalone,buthelikedtheairto
becongealedabouthisface.Hewasamanofaclosedsoul.Onehadto
wrenchopenthedarkchamberwherehekepthisfeelings;butthemanwho
haddonethathaduncoveredhisnakedness,andhecuthimoffforever.
Thatwashowithappenedwithhisson,thefatherofPhilip.

Hehadtwosons;theelderwasanimpetuouscreature,afieryspirit,
oneofthemasterfulsoulswhowanttherestraintofthecurbifthey
arenottohurryheadlongintotheabyss.OldDeemsterChristianhad
calledthisboyThomasWilson,aftertheserenesaintwhohadonce
beenBishopofMan.Hewasintended,however,forthelaw,notfor
theChurch.TheofficeofDeemsterneverhasbeenandnevercanbe
hereditary;yettheChristiansofBallawhainehadbeenDeemstersthrough
sixgenerations,andoldIronChristianexpectedthatThomasWilson
Christianwouldsucceedhim.Buttherewasenoughuncertaintyaboutthe
successiontomakemeritofmorevaluethanprecedentintheselection,
andsotheoldmanhadbroughtuphissontotheEnglishbar,and
afterwardscalledhimtopractiseintheManxone.Theyoungfellowhad
notaltogetherrewardedhisfather’sendeavours.Duringhisresidence
inEngland,hehadacquiredcertainmoderndoctrineswhichwerehighly
obnoxioustotheoldDeemster.Newviewsonproperty,newideas
aboutwomanandmarriage,newtheoriesconcerningreligion(always
re-christenedsuperstition),theusualbarnaclesofyoungvesselsfresh
fromunknownwaters;buttheoldmanwasnoshipwrightinharbourwho
haslearnttheartofremovingthemwithoutinjurytothehull.The
DeemsterknewthesenotionswhenhemetwiththemintheEnglish


newspapers.Therewassomethingawesomeintheireffectonhis
stay-at-homeimagination,asofvicesconfusinganddifficulttotrue
menthatwalksteadily;but,aboveall,veryfaroff,overthemountains
andacrossthesea,likedistantcitiesofSodom,onlywaitingfor
Sodom’sdoom.Andyet,lo!heretheywereinatwinkling,shuntedand
shotintohisownhouseandhisownstackyard.

“Isupposenow,”hesaid,withaknowinglook,“youthinkJackasgood
ashismaster?”

“No,sir,”saidhissongravely;“generallymuchbetter.”

IronChristianalteredhiswill.Tohiseldersonheleftonlya
life-interestinBallawhaine.“Thatboywillbedoingsomething,”he
said,andthusheguardedagainstconsequences.Hecouldnothelpit;he
wasashamed,buthecouldnotconquerhisshame—thefieryoldmanbegan
tonurseagrievanceagainsthisson.

ThetwosonsoftheDeemsterwereliketheinsideandoutsideofabowl,
andthatbowlwastheDeemsterhimself.IfThomasWilsontheelder
hadhisfather’sinsidefireandsoftness,Peter,theyounger,hadhis


father’soutsideiceandiron.Peterwaslittleandalmostmisshapen,
withapairofshouldersthatseemedtobetryingtomeetoverahollow
chestandlimbsthatsplayedawayintovacancy.AndifNaturehadbeen
grudgingwithhim,hisfatherwasnotmorekind.Hehadbeenbroughtup
tonoprofession,andhisexpectationswerelimitedtoayearlycharge
outofhisbrother’sproperty.Histalkwasbitter,hisvoicecold,
helaughedlittle,andhadneverbeenknowntocry.Hehadmanythings
againsthim.

Besidesthesesons,DeemsterChristianhadagirlinhishousehold,but
tohisownconsciousnessthefactwasonlyakindofperadventure.She
washisniece,thechildofhisonlybrother,whohaddiedinearly
manhood.HernamewasAnnCharlottedelaTremouille,calledafter

theladyofRushen,forthefamilyofChristianhadtheirshareofthe
heroicthatisinallmen.Shehadfineeyes,aweakmouth,andgreat
timidity.Gentleairsfloatedalwaysabouther,andasortofnervous
brightnesstwinkledoverher,asofaglenwiththesunflickering
through.Hermotherdiedwhenshewasachildoftwelve,andinthe
houseofheruncleandhercousinsshehadbeenbroughtupamongmenand
boys.



OnedayPeterdrewtheDeemsterasideandtoldhim(withexpressions
ofshame,interlardedwithpraisesofhisownacuteness)astoryofhis
brother.Itwasaboutagirl.HernamewasMonaCrellin;shelivedon
thehillatBallureHouse,halfamilesouthofRamsey,andwas
daughterofamancalledBillyBallure,aretiredsea-captain,and
hail-fellow-well-metwithallthejovialspiritsofthetown.

Therewasmuchnoiseandoutcry,andoldIronsentforhisson.

“What’sthisIhear?”hecried,lookinghimdown.“Awoman?Sothat’s
whatyourfinelearningcomesto,eh?Takecare,sir!takecare!Noson
ofmineshalldisgracehimself.Thedayhedoesthathewillbeputto
thedoor.”

Thomasheldhimselfinwithagreateffort.

“Disgrace?”hesaid.“Whatdisgrace,sir,ifyouplease?”

“Whatdisgrace,sir?”repeatedtheDeemster,mockinghissonina
mincingtreble.Thenheroared,“Behavingdishonourablytoapoor

girl—thatwhat’sdisgrace,sir!Isn’titenough?eh?eh?”



“Morethanenough,”saidtheyoungman.“Butwhoisdoingit?I’mnot.”

“Thenyou’redoingworse.DidIsayworse?OfcourseIsaidworse.
Worse,sir,worse!Doyouhearme?Worse!Youaretrapsingaround
Ballure,andlettingthatpoorgirltakenotions.I’llhavenomore
ofit.IsthiswhatIsentyoutoEnglandfor?Aren’tyouashamedof
yourself?Keepyourplace,sir;keepyourplace.Apoorgirl’sapoor
girl,andaDeemster’saDeemster.”

“Yes,sir,”saidThomas,suddenlyfiringup,“andaman’saman.Asfor
theshame,Ineedbeashamedofnothingthatisnotshameful;andthe
bestproofIcangiveyouthatImeannodishonourbythegirlisthatI
intendtomarryher.”

“What?Youintendto—what?DidIhear–-”

TheoldDeemsterturnedhisgoodeartowardshisson’sface,andthe
youngmanrepeatedhisthreat.Neverfear!Nopoorgirlshouldbemisled
byhim.Hewasaboveallfoolishconventions.



OldIronChristianwasdumbfounded.Hegasped,hestared,hestammered,
andthenfellonhissonwithhotreproaches.

“What?Yourwife?Wife?Thattrollop!—thatminx!that—anddaughterof

thatsot,too,thatoldrip,thatrowdyblatherskite—that–-Andmy
ownsonistolifthishandtocuthisthroat!Yes,sir,cuthis
throat–-AndIamtostandby!No,no!Isayno,sir,no!”

Theyoungmanmadesomefurtherprotest,butitwaslostinhisfather’s
clamour.

“Youwill,though?Youwill?Thenyourhatisyourhouse,sir.Taketo
it—taketoit!”

“Noneedtotellmetwice,father.”

“Awaythen—awaytoyourwoman—yourjade!God,keepmyhandsoffhim!”

Theoldmanliftedhisclenchedfist,buthissonhadflungoutofthe
room.ItwasnottheDeemsteronlywhofearedhemightlayhandsonhis
ownfleshandblood.



“Stop!comeback,youdog!Listen!I’venotdoneyet.Stop!you
hotheadedrascal,stop!Can’tyouhearamanoutthen?Comeback!Thomas
Wilson,comeback,sir!Thomas!Thomas!Tom!Whereishe?Where’sthe
boy?”

OldIronChristianhadmadeafterhissonbareheadeddowntotheroad,
shoutinghisnameinabrokenroar,buttheyoungmanwasgone.Then
hewentbackslowly,hisgreyhairplayinginthewind.Hewasalliron
outside,butallfatherwithin.

ThatdaytheDeemsteralteredhiswillasecondtime,andhiselderson
wasdisinherited.

II.

PetersucceededinduecoursetotheestateofBallawhaine,buthewas
notalawyer,andthelineoftheDeemstersChristianwasbroken.

MeantimeThomasWilsonChristianhadbeenmarriedtoMonaCrellin
withoutdelay.Helovedher,buthehadbeenafraidofherignorance,


afraidalso(notwithstandinghisprinciples)ofthedifferenceintheir
socialrank,andhadhalfintendedtogiveherupwhenhisfather’s
reproacheshadcometofirehisangerandtospurhiscourage.As
soonasshebecamehiswifeherealisedthepricehehadpaidforher.
Happinesscouldnotcomeofsuchabeginning.Hehadbrokeneverytie
inmakingtheonewhichbroughthimdown.Therichdisownedhim,andthe
poorlostrespectforhim.

“It’spositivelyindecent,”saidone.“It’spotatoesmarryingherrings,”
saidanother.Itwaslittlebetterthanhungermarryingthirst.

Inthegeneraldownfallofhisfamehisprofessionfailedhim.Helost
heartandambition.Hisphilosophydidnotstandhimingoodstead,for
ithadnovalueinthemarkettowhichhebroughtit.Thus,daybyday,
hesankdeeperintotheoozeofawreckedandwastedlife.

Thewifedidnotturnoutwell.Shewasafretfulperson,withagood
face,abadshape,avacantmind,andagreatdealofvanity.She

hadlikedherhusbandalittleasalover,butwhenshesawthather
marriagebroughthernobody’senvy,shefellintoalongfitofthe
vapours.Eventuallyshemadeherselfbelievethatshewasanill-used


person.Sheneverceasedtocomplainofherfate.Everybodytreatedher
asifshehadlaidplansforherhusband’sruin.

Thehusbandcontinuedtoloveher,butlittlebylittlehegrewto
despiseheralso.Whenhemadehisfirstplunge,hehadpridedhimself
onindulginganheroicimpulse.Hewasnotgoingtodeliveragoodwoman
todishonourbecausesheseemedtobeanobstacletohissuccess.But
shehadneverrealisedhissacrifice.Shedidnotappeartounderstand
thathemighthavebeenagreatmanintheisland,butthatloveand
honourhadheldhimback.Herignorancewaspitiful,andhewasashamed
ofit.Inearningthecontemptofothershehadnotsavedhimselffrom
self-contempt.

Theoldsailordiedsuddenlyinafitofdrunkennessatafair,and
husbandandwifecameintopossessionofhishouseandpropertyat
Ballure.Thisdidnotimprovetherelationsbetweenthem.Thewoman
perceivedthattheirpositionswerereversed.Shewasthebread-bringer
now.Oneday,ataslightthatherhusband’speoplehadputuponher
inthestreet,sheremindedhim,inordertore-establishherwounded
vanity,thatbutforherandhershewouldnothavesomuchasaroofto
coverhim.



Yetthemancontinuedtoloveherinspiteofall.Andshewasnot

atfirstadegradedbeing.Attimesshewasbrightandcheerful,and,
exceptintheworstspellsofhervapours,shewasabriskandbusy
woman.Thehousewassweetandhomely.Therewasonlyonethingtodrive
himawayfromit,butthatwasthegreatestthingofall.Nevertheless
theyhadtheircheerfulhourstogether.

Achildwasborn,aboy,andtheycalledhimPhilip.Hewasthe
beginningoftheendbetweenthem;theironstaythatheldthemtogether
andyetapart.Thefatherrememberedhismisfortunesinthepresence
ofhisson,andthemotherwasstungafreshbytherecollectionof
disappointedhopes.TheboywasthetrueheirofBallawhaine,butthe
inheritancewaslosttohimbyhisfather’sfaultandhehadnothing.

Philipgrewtobeawinsomelad.Therewassomethingsweetandamiable
andbig-hearted,andevenalmostgreat,inhim.Onedaythefather
satinthegardenbythemightyfuchsia-treethatgrowsonthelawn,
watchinghislittlefair-hairedsonplayatmarblesonthepathwithtwo
bigladswhomhehadenticedoutoftheroad,andanothermorefamiliar
playmate—thelittlebarefootedboyPeter,fromthecottagebythe


water-trough.AtfirstPhiliplost,andwithgruntsofsatisfaction
thebigonespromptlypocketedtheirgains.ThenPhilipwon,andlittle
curlyPeterwasstrippednaked,andhislipbegantofall.Atthat
Philippaused,heldhisheadaside,andconsidered,andthensaidquite
briskly,“Peterhadn’tafairchancethattime—here,let’sgivehim
anothergo.”

Thefather’sthroatswelled,andhewentindoorstothemotherandsaid,
“Ithink—perhapsI’mtoblame—butsomehowIthinkourboyisn’t

likeotherboys.Whatdoyousay?Foolish?Maybeso,maybeso!No
difference?Well,no—no!”

Butdeepdowninthesecretplaceofhisheart,ThomasWilsonChristian,
brokenman,uprootedtree,wreckedcraftinthemudandslime,beganto
cherishafondidea.Thesonwouldregainallthathisfatherhadlost!
Hehadgifts,andheshouldbebroughtuptothelaw;alargenature,
andheshouldbehelpedtodevelopit;afinefacewhichallmust
love,asenseofjustice,andagreatwealthofthepowerofradiating
happiness.Deemster?Whynot?Ballawhaine?Whocouldtell?Thebiggest,
noblest,greatestofallManxmen!Godknows!



Only—onlyhemustbetaughttoflyfromhisfather’sdangers.Love?
Thenlethimlovewherehecanalsorespect—butneveroutsidehisown
sphere.Theislandwastoolittleforthat.Toloveandtodespisewas
tosufferthetormentsofthedamned.

Nourishingthesedreams,thepoormanbegantobetorturedbyevery
caressthemothergaveherson,andirritatedbyeverywordshespoketo
him.Hergrammarwasgoodenoughforhimself,andtheexuberantcaresses
ofhermaudlinmoodswereevensometimespleasant,buttheboymustbe
degradedbyneither.

Thewomandidnotreachtothesehighthoughts,butshewasnotslowto
interpretthecasualbyplayinwhichtheyfoundexpression.Herhusband
wastaichinghersontodisrespeckher.Shewouldn’thavethoughtit
ofhim—shewouldn’treally.Butitwasalwaysthewaywhena
plainpracticalwomanmarriedonthequality.Imperenceand

disrespeck—that’sthecapers!Imperenceanddisrespeckfromthe
onesthat’sdoingnothingandbehouldentoyouforeverything.Itwas
shocking!Itwasdisthressing!

Insuchoutburstswouldherjealousytaunthimwithhispoverty,revile


himforhisidleness,andsquareaccountswithhimforthemanifest
preferenceoftheboy.Hecouldbearthemwithpatiencewhentheywere
alone,butinPhilip’spresencetheywereasgallandwormwood,and
whipsandscorpions.

“Go,mylad,go,”hewouldsometimeswhimper,andhustletheboyoutof
theway.

“No,”thewomanwouldcry,“stopandseethemanyourfatheris.”

Andthefatherwouldmutter,“Hemightseethewomanhismotherisas
well.”

Butwhenshehadpinnedthemtogether,andtheboyhadtohearherout,
themanwoulddrophisforeheadonthetableandbreakintogroansand
tears.Thenthewomanwouldchangequitesuddenly,andputherarms
abouthimandkisshimandweepoverhim.Hecoulddefendhimselffrom
neitherherinsultsnorherembraces.Inspiteofeverythingheloved
her.Thatwaswherethebitternessoftheevillay.Butforthelovehe
boreher,hemighthavegotheroffhisbackandbeenhisownmanonce
more.Hewouldmakepeacewithherandkissheragain,andtheywould

bothkisstheboy,andbetender,andevencheerful.

Philipwasstillachild,buthesawtherelationsofhisparents,and
inhisownwayheunderstoodeverything.Helovedhisfatherbest,but
hedidnothatehismother.Shewasnearlyalwaysaffectionate,though
oftenjealousofthefather’sgreaterloveandcareforhim,and
sometimesirritablefromthatcausealone.Butthefrequentbroils
betweenthemwerelikeblowsthatleftscarsonhisbody.Hesleptina
cotinthesameroom,andhewouldcoveruphisheadinthebedclothes
atnightwithafeelingoffearandphysicalpain.

Amancannotfightagainsthimselfforlong.Thatdeadlyenemyis
certaintoslay.WhenPhilipwassixyearsoldhisfatherlaysickof
hislastsickness.Thewifehadfallenintohabitsofintemperanceby
thistime,andstagebystageshehaddescendedtotheconditionofan
utterlydegradedwoman.Therewassomethingtoexcuseher.Shehadbeen
disappointedinthegreatstakesoflife;shehadearneddisgrace
whereshehadlookedforadmiration.Shewasvain,andcouldnotbear
misfortune;andshehadnodeepwelloflovefromwhichtodrinkwhen
thefountofherpriderandry.Ifherhusbandhadindulgedherwitha
littlepity,everythingmighthavegonealongmoreeasily.Buthehad


onlylovedherandbeenashamed.Andnowthathelayneartohisdeath,
thelovebegantoebbandtheshametodeepenintodread.

Hesleptlittleatnight,andasoftenasheclosedhiseyescertain
voicesofmockingandreproachseemedtobeconstantlyhumminginhis
ears.

“Yourson!”theywouldcry.“Whatistobecomeofhim?Yourdreams!
Yourgreatdreams!Deemster!Ballawhaine!Godknowswhat!Youare
leavingtheboy;whoistobringhimup?Hismother?Thinkofit!”

Atlastarayofpalesunshinebrokeonthesleeplesswrestlerwiththe
night,andhebecamealmosthappy.“I’llspeaktotheboy,”hethought.
“Iwilltellhimmyownhistory,concealingnothing.Yes,Iwilltell
himofmyownfatheralso,Godresthim,thesternoldman—severe,yet
just.”

Anopportunitysoonbefell.Itwaslateatnight—verylate.Thewoman
wassleepingoffaboutofintemperancesomewherebelow;andtheboy,
withtheinnocenceandignoranceofhisyearsinallthatthesolemn
timeforeboded,wasbustlingabouttheroomwithmightyeagerness,


becauseheknewthatheoughttobeinbed.

“I’mstayinguptointendonyou,father,”saidtheboy.

Thefatheransweredwithasigh.

“Don’tyouasturbyourself,father.I’llintendonyou.”

Thefather’ssighdeepenedtoamoan.

“Ifyouwantanything‘aticular,justcallme;d’yesee,father?”

Andawaywenttheboylikeagleamoflight.Presentlyhecameback,
leapinglikethedawn.Hewascarrying,insecurely,ajugofpoppy-head

andcamomile,whichhadbeenprescribedasalotion.

“Poppyheads,father!Poppy-headsisgood,Icantellye.”

“Whyarn’tyouinbed,child?”saidthefather.“Youmustbetired.”

“No,I’mnottired,father.Iwasjustfeelingabitoftired,andthen


Itookasmellofpoppy-headsandawaywentthetirednesstoJericho.
Theyisgood.”

Thelittlewhiteheadwasglintingoffagainwhenthefathercalledit
back.

“Comehere,myboy.”Thechildwentuptothebedside,andthefather
ranhisfingerslovinglythroughthelongfairhair.

“Doyouthink,Philip,thattwenty,thirty,fortyyearshence,whenyou
areaman—aye,abigman,littleone—doyouthinkyouwillremember
whatIshallsaytoyounow?”

“Why,yes,father,ifit’sanything‘aticular,andifitisn’tyoucan
amindmeofit,can’tyou,father?”

Thefathershookhishead.“Ishallnotbeherethen,myboy.Iamgoing
away–-”

“Goingaway,father?MayIcometoo?”

“Ah!Iwishyoucould,littleone.Yes,trulyIalmostwishyoucould.”

“Thenyou’llletmegowithyou,father!Oh,Iamglad,father.”And
theboybegantocaperanddance,togodownonallfours,andleap
aboutthefloorlikeafrog.

Thefatherfellbackonhispillowwithaheavingbreast.Vain!vain!
Whatwastheuseofspeaking?Thechild’soutlookwaslife;hisownwas
death;theyhadnocommonground;theyspokedifferenttongues.And,
afterall,howcouldhesufferthesweetinnocenceofthechild’ssoul
tolookdownintothestainedandscarredchamberofhisruinedheart?

“Youdon’tunderstandme,Philip.ImeanthatIamgoing—todie.Yes,
darling,and,onlythatIamleavingyoubehind,Ishouldbegladtogo.
Mylifehasbeenwasted,Philip.Inthetimetocome,whenmenspeak
ofyourfather,youwillbeashamed.Perhapsyouwillnotrememberthen
thatwhateverhewashewasagoodfathertoyou,foratleastheloved
youdearly.Well,ImustneedsbowtothewillofGod,butifIcould
onlyhopethatyouwouldlivetorestoremynamewhenIamgone….
Philip,areyou—don’tcry,mydarling.There,there,kissme.We’ll
saynomoreaboutitthen.Perhapsit’snottrue,althoughfathertolded