The Vampyre; a Tale
emaciated, lost their strength, and speedily died of consumptions;
whilst these human blood-suckers fattened--and their veins became
distended to such a state of repletion, as to cause the blood to flow
from all the passages of their bodies, and even from the very pores of
their skins.
In the London Journal, of March, 1732, is a curious, and, of course,
credible account of a particular case of vampyrism, which is stated to
have occurred at Madreyga, in Hungary. It appears, that upon an
examination of the commander-in-chief and magistrates of the place,
they positively and unanimously affirmed, that, about five years
before, a certain Heyduke, named Arnold Paul, had been heard to say,
that, at Cassovia, on the frontiers of the Turkish Servia, he had been
tormented by a vampyre, but had found a way to rid himself of the
evil, by eating some of the earth out of the vampyre's grave, and
rubbing himself with his blood. This precaution, however, did not
prevent him from becoming a vampyre[2] himself; for, about twenty or
thirty days after his death and burial, many persons complained of
having been tormented by him, and a deposition was made, that four
persons had been deprived of life by his attacks. To prevent further
mischief, the inhabitants having consulted their Hadagni,[3] took up
the body, and found it (as is supposed to be usual in cases of
vampyrism) fresh, and entirely free from corruption, and emitting at
the mouth, nose, and ears, pure and florid blood. Proof having been
thus obtained, they resorted to the accustomed remedy. A stake was
driven entirely through the heart and body of Arnold Paul, at which he
is reported to have cried out as dreadfully as if he had been alive.
This done, they cut off his head, burned his body, and threw the ashes
into his grave. The same measures were adopted with the corses of
those persons who had previously died from vampyrism, lest they
should, in their turn, become agents upon others who survived them.
[2] The universal belief is, that a person sucked by a vampyre becomes a
vampyre himself, and sucks in his turn.
[3] Chief bailiff.
This monstrous rodomontade is here related, because it seems better
adapted to illustrate the subject of the present observations than any
other instance which could be adduced. In many parts of Greece it is
considered as a sort of punishment after death, for some heinous crime
committed whilst in existence, that the deceased is not only doomed to
vampyrise, but compelled to confine his infernal visitations solely to
those beings he loved most while upon earth--those to whom he was bound
by ties of kindred and affection.--A supposition alluded to in the
"Giaour."
But first on earth, as Vampyre sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent;
Then ghastly haunt the native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse,
Thy victims, ere they yet expire,
Shall know the demon for their sire;
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
But one that for thy crime must fall,
The youngest, best beloved of all,
Shall bless thee with a father's name--
That word shall wrap thy heart in flame!
Yet thou must end thy task and mark
Her cheek's last tinge--her eye's last spark,
And the last glassy glance must view
Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue;
Then with unhallowed hand shall tear
The tresses of her yellow hair,
Of which, in life a lock when shorn
Affection's fondest pledge was worn--
But now is borne away by thee
Memorial of thine agony!
Yet with thine own best blood shall drip;
Thy gnashing tooth, and haggard lip;
Then stalking to thy sullen grave,
Go--and with Gouls and Afrits rave,
Till these in horror shrink away
From spectre more accursed than they.
Mr. Southey has also introduced in his wild but beautiful poem of
"Thalaba," the vampyre corse of the Arabian maid Oneiza, who is
represented as having returned from the grave for the purpose of
tormenting him she best loved whilst in existence. But this cannot be
supposed to have resulted from the sinfulness of her life, she being
pourtrayed throughout the whole of the tale as a complete type of
purity and innocence. The veracious Tournefort gives a long account in
his travels of several astonishing cases of vampyrism, to which he
pretends to have been an eyewitness; and Calmet, in his great work
upon this subject, besides a variety of anecdotes, and traditionary
narratives illustrative of its effects, has put forth some learned
dissertations, tending to prove it to be a classical, as well as
barbarian error.
Many curious and interesting notices on this singularly horrible
superstition might be added; though the present may suffice for the
limits of a note, necessarily devoted to explanation, and which may
now be concluded by merely remarking, that though the term Vampyre is
the one in most general acceptation, there are several others
synonymous with it, made use of in various parts of the world: as
Vroucolocha, Vardoulacha, Goul, Broucoloka, &c.
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THE VAMPYRE.
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IT happened that in the midst of the dissipations attendant upon a
London winter, there appeared at the various parties of the leaders of
the ton a nobleman, more remarkable for his singularities, than his
rank. He gazed upon the mirth around him, as if he could not
participate therein. Apparently, the light laughter of the fair only
attracted his attention, that he might by a look quell it, and throw
fear into those breasts where thoughtlessness reigned. Those who felt
this sensation of awe, could not explain whence it arose: some
attributed it to the dead grey eye, which, fixing upon the object's
face, did not seem to penetrate, and at one glance to pierce through
to the inward workings of the heart; but fell upon the cheek with a
leaden ray that weighed upon the skin it could not pass. His
peculiarities caused him to be invited to every house; all wished to
see him, and those who had been accustomed to violent excitement, and
now felt the weight of ennui, were pleased at having something in
their presence capable of engaging their attention. In spite of the
deadly hue of his face, which never gained a warmer tint, either from
the blush of modesty, or from the strong emotion of passion, though
its form and outline were beautiful, many of the female hunters after
notoriety attempted to win his attentions, and gain, at least, some
marks of what they might term affection: Lady Mercer, who had been the
mockery of every monster shewn in drawing-rooms since her marriage,
threw herself in his way, and did all but put on the dress of a
mountebank, to attract his notice:--though in vain:--when she
stood before him, though his eyes were apparently fixed upon her's,
still it seemed as if they were unperceived;--even her unappalled
impudence was baffled, and she left the field. But though the common
adultress could not influence even the guidance of his eyes, it was
not that the female sex was indifferent to him: yet such was the
apparent caution with which he spoke to the virtuous wife and innocent
daughter, that few knew he ever addressed himself to females. He had,
however, the reputation of a winning tongue; and whether it was that
it even overcame the dread of his singular character, or that they
were moved by his apparent hatred of vice, he was as often among those
females who form the boast of their sex from their domestic virtues,
as among those who sully it by their vices.
About the same time, there came to London a young gentleman of the
name of Aubrey: he was an orphan left with an only sister in the
possession of great wealth, by parents who died while he was yet in
childhood. Left also to himself by guardians, who thought it their
duty merely to take care of his fortune, while they relinquished the
more important charge of his mind to the care of mercenary subalterns,
he cultivated more his imagination than his judgment. He had, hence,
that high romantic feeling of honour and candour, which daily ruins so
many milliners' apprentices. He believed all to sympathise with
virtue, and thought that vice was thrown in by Providence merely for
the picturesque effect of the scene, as we see in romances: he thought
that the misery of a cottage merely consisted in the vesting of
clothes, which were as warm, but which were better adapted to the
painter's eye by their irregular folds and various coloured patches.
He thought, in fine, that the dreams of poets were the realities of
life. He was handsome, frank, and rich: for these reasons, upon his
entering into the gay circles, many mothers surrounded him, striving
which should describe with least truth their languishing or romping
favourites: the daughters at the same time, by their brightening
countenances when he approached, and by their sparkling eyes, when he
opened his lips, soon led him into false notions of his talents and
his merit. Attached as he was to the romance of his solitary hours,
he was startled at finding, that, except in the tallow and wax candles
that flickered, not from the presence of a ghost, but from want of
snuffing, there was no foundation in real life for any of that
congeries of pleasing pictures and descriptions contained in those
volumes, from which he had formed his study. Finding, however, some
compensation in his gratified vanity, he was about to relinquish his
dreams, when the extraordinary being we have above described, crossed
him in his career.
He watched him; and the very impossibility of forming an idea of the
character of a man entirely absorbed in himself, who gave few other
signs of his observation of external objects, than the tacit assent to
their existence, implied by the avoidance of their contact: allowing
his imagination to picture every thing that flattered its propensity
to extravagant ideas, he soon formed this object into the hero of a
romance, and determined to observe the offspring of his fancy, rather
than the person before him. He became acquainted with him, paid him
attentions, and so far advanced upon his notice, that his presence was
always recognised. He gradually learnt that Lord Ruthven's affairs
were embarrassed, and soon found, from the notes of preparation in
---- Street, that he was about to travel. Desirous of gaining some
information respecting this singular character, who, till now, had
only whetted his curiosity, he hinted to his guardians, that it was
time for him to perform the tour, which for many generations has been
thought necessary to enable the young to take some rapid steps in the
career of vice towards putting themselves upon an equality with the
aged, and not allowing them to appear as if fallen from the skies,
whenever scandalous intrigues are mentioned as the subjects of
pleasantry or of praise, according to the degree of skill shewn in
carrying them on. They consented: and Aubrey immediately mentioning
his intentions to Lord Ruthven, was surprised to receive from him a
proposal to join him. Flattered by such a mark of esteem from him,
who, apparently, had nothing in common with other men, he gladly
accepted it, and in a few days they had passed the circling waters.
Hitherto, Aubrey had had no opportunity of studying Lord Ruthven's
character, and now he found, that, though many more of his actions
were exposed to his view, the results offered different conclusions
from the apparent motives to his conduct. His companion was profuse