On the Hilarious

"Children are never too tender to be whipped - like tough beefsteaks, the more you beat them the more tender they become."

-Edgar Poe


In the sundry Weeks since last I sent a Post-Mail, my Brain has been o'erclogg'd & choked with the sooty Work of Discovery. For well cou'd it be said, that before one may dig thro' the Ruins of Troy, it must burn.

Sept. pass'd with its belated, rosy Flirts & Plezantries, being too soon shoo'd off by her matronly Guardian - stern Octobra. Light dim'd, Leaves gilded & bronzed, and our Shoes trudg'd across the slippery Ground - all in the Echoe of Autumn's stormy Cackle.

God be prais'd, we had no Cause to fear of Sauvage Attack, tho' a grim Weroance frightened Mme Bainton quite out of her Wits. On his Way to Nemacolin's Path he took his Peace at my Porch, knowing Col. Bainton to be hospitable to our tattoo'd Neighbors. We drank our Cyder & spoke heartily of the Slaughter happily worked against the Shawnee - himself being Saponi, & harboring a toothsome Hatred for the Mingo. He gave out a Tale, that a young Shawnee wandered into the Path of the Weroance's party. They stripp'd him of his Clothes, which were meager, as he had been wandering for some Days. Thong'd to a dead Tree, he began to sing, which is the naturall Behavior of a captured Indian, as they wish to show their imperturb'd heart. My Weroance laugh'd to remember, how his Party whittled Twigs of Pine into tiny Needles, which were at once jabb'd & poked about the young Boy's Figure. Thus Porcupin'd, the Sauvages began setting the Needles alight - giving a similar Effect to what is describ'd by those Writers on Sieges, when they discuss the Work of Mines. For the Flames melted out Divotts of the Boy's skin, and boil'd his Blood, as it dripp'd from the Wounds.

Having our rawkous Chuckle 'twas hard to restrain our Bellies from bursting, full as they were with Corn-liquor & the glad Tidings of our Enemies' Woe. & to come to her Verandah, carrying Candle & wearing Shawl, only to find her Husband doubl'd o'er with Glee, while a brazen Sauvage strutt'd about in hilarious Mimicry of his Foe's Death-throes - such cou'd only disorder the frail Brains of Mme Bainton. Well is it said, that no Woman cou'd e'er pronounce Comedy, for they are too fill'd up with the cloudy Vapour of Emotion. Petulant Fancy strives with censorious Condemnation in her Mind - she has no room, amongst all her other Humours, for Humour.

A stern Rogering & the Promise to banish my Weroance-friend suffic'd to quiet my Wife. But what wou'd not be unquiet'd, was Curiosity, nagging like a toddling Youth, "What made the Weronace's Tale so hilarious?" I consult'd Herodotus, I pluck'd thro' Plutarch, & stoned myself with Plautus & Terentius. Yet none cou'd satisfy.

Goodman Stubb, most reliable of Manservants, intervenes at this point, making of himself a Exemplum. Bent o'er my tall Writing-desk, my Lucian open & my Notes still wett from furious Scribbling, I heard the fleet Steps of a Servant's soft Shoes shuffling up the Stairs. I made quick Work of closing my Nightgown, for I have been chastiz'd by Mme Bainton for suprizing the Maidservants with my uncover'd Munificence.

Alas it was only Stubb, one not unaccustom'd to the Sight of my naked J. Alfred. Panting & confused, his Eyes rolling like the cheap Marbles which consume his Time & Money, he lean'd 'gainst the Doorway, & pour'd out his Heart. Viz.:

-That two weeks prior (id est, Oct. 2), he had woo'd a young Hussy from a suspect Tavern;
-That she did operate 'pon him with the various Competencies naturall to such a One;
-That he had since been unable to pass his daily Waters, without excruciating Pain;
-That he was fill'd with regret, being unsatisfied with her Method, which, tho' effective & stimulating, was altogether too professional - a learned Pleasuring, a Bookkeeper's Joy.

He request'd my Help, as his trusted Mentor & Patron in this unkind Colonie, in retrieving a Doctor. I thought at once of my esteem'd Friend, the amicable & well-spun Leonard Galvan, a Root-worker most learned in the ways of Medicine. We had spent many a Night in the Cellars of old James Cittie, tippling & dauncing with the fine Ladies. I knew him for a Raconteur, & a solemn Ally in my Struggle 'gainst the vile King Bettie.

Galvan made Room immediate in his travelling Schedule, & rode to our Fort with all Haste. Quite stunned by the Presence of Indians, he cavill'd at me for some Time - "How is it, Epaph, that I am to work my Science, with the evidence of such Savagery about me at all Times?!" - "Such dusky Half-breeds ought be expung'd before they mingle their Mongrelcy amongst our Maidens!" Ordinarily, Leo. is not so mellifluous - but Drink soddens his Tongue, & saddens his naturally hopeful Disposition.

He examin'd Stubb in the Stables, & requir'd many grim Sacrifices on the Part of young Goodman. The Learned Galvan brought out his Foreceps, sundry Clampes & Pulleys, all straining at the suddenly-shrunk Equipment of poor S. Rods, Needles, Bits of glass, and sundry Shards of horse-iron were all applied to Stubb's Steve Coleman - and yet Galvan stood in mystification, struck nearly into Stone by the inefficacy of his Remedies. I brought Galvan the Parchment requested, which he used in a most peculiar Way - immediately paper-cutting poor Stubb's Billy Donovan. Stubb yelp'd but assured me that nothing cou'd singe him so much as wou'd continuing to suffer.

Bandaged, limping, but yet full of Enthusiasm for the Cure, Stubb took off to lie down. Galvan informed him sternly to return shou'd the Symptoms worsen. As soon as he had left our Sight, we betook ourselves to the aforemention'd Tavern - for the only Way to discover the Root of Stubb's Problems was Observation of this Hussy, perhaps even Examination.

With our Poor Richards quite unchanged by this Exercise, we spent the next Fortnight buried in Drink & Pastries. We found the Wench easy enough in her Affections that all Men struck her equal - a true Democrat of Love, a Model for those celebrated Strumpets of France, garbed in Silk & Champagne, giggling their Love for the People. To be sure, our Beery Hussy had no Silk, nor did she offer Burritoes, but she did not ask, as so many do, for Cookies, or Hat-pins, those two feminine Entertainments that have swallow'd Purses whole - like the Whale to Jonah. Or, indeed, like our Hussy, to any passing Willie Charles.

After digging thro' many a rumpled Bedsheet, faithful Stubb found us ensconced in the upper Rooms of a Boarding-house, teetering too much on the Brink of Ill-repute for me to name. He shudder'd into the Room, shaking with Confusion & Worry. "I am afeared, Sir, that I may be yet worse than I was."

From across the Room, under the Rump of a exhausted Whore, Galvan muttered, "It's the Lord's Vengeance, that you ne'er learn'd the dire Responsibility of jousting with yr Malcolm Lowry."

***

3 Days of Operation - and Nightmare - follow'd. At no inconsiderable Expense Galvan board'd with Mme Bainton & I. Tho' his Anticks are at first Comedy, soon enough they turn to Viciousness - as when he pinch'd at Mme Bainton's maidservant's Knickers, or cuff'd the Doorman for asking if he might take Galvan's Coat, or pour'd the Blood of a Steak into a Dog's Bowl, from which he drank Spirits & blood freely, or ate three Carrot-cakes, smuggling each away as they arrived from the Oven. "But Epaph," he would chortle, thro' Crumbs of my Wife's domestick Labor, "how was I to know yr solemn Wife was engag'd in entertaining? I am much too preoccupied with my curative Work to notice such Trifles!"

Not occupied enough, as it happened. The Galvan lurched & leer'd from one Corner of my Abode to another, eventually losing the Power of Speech to that merciless Master, Rum. Unhappily for Stubb, it was in one of these Phrenzies that he broke out a Mercury-pump. He declared, to the general Audience of the Dinner-table, that Stubb would soon be as good as Woman'd, if he cou'd not arrest the Progress of the Affliction.

***

For one fever'd Night I thought Galvan's merciless Medicine might finally have Stubb living up to his Name. Far-fallen are we indeed, that our Age's Hippocrates worships at the graped Altars of Bacchus & Venus Kallipygia - we have no Galen, only Galvan. In one of his Stupors, I packed Galvan away in a Trunk, hoping that he wou'd not regain Awareness before reaching Richmond. Tis in that Cittie that he most belongs.

Stubb remain'd lock'd away, excluded from Labor, in Consideration of his State. I continued my Work, the Carrot-cake return'd, and so too did the happy Countenance of Mme Bainton's Wench Lucy. She had been much out of Countenance over Stubb prior to his Disaster, nurturing towards him an ambivalent Regard, yet now seem'd pleasantly Curious, even Amorous. She attended on him daily, & wash'd his skin, hotly tingling-o'er with Pain & Duress.

One Morning I found her whistling as she scrubb'd the Panes of a Window, ponderous Work that she had detested formerly. Now the Suds dripp'd from her Wrist & the Glass gleamed in the pearly Light of late October.

"I say, Lucy," said I, "what has brought you to such a commodious Truce with yr Labor?"
She giggled & curtsied. "You might ask Mr. Stubb, sir - I mean no Impudence, please, no more of our last Guest, but - I think it a Conversation for Men."

I left Lucy to her squeaking Washcloth and hied at once to Stubb's Quarter, beneath the Stairs. I knock'd loudly, call'd him out, & found him altogether changed - his Hair smooth'd, his Carriage restored to unseemly Swagger, his Nails unbitten & his Cuffs white as Goose-down.

"What has worked you o'er, Stubb? Are you merely in that gross State of Health that obtains immediately prior to Death? Or are you consigned to Eunuchry?"
Stubb laughed a riotous Holler, & clapped his Hips. "Nay, sir, quite disproved of that. As soon as Galvan left, I put aside his vile Concoctions - if you don't mind me saying so, Sir - and submitted myself to another. Come to find, I'm healthy as a Buck! My Don Pedro is altogether remade!"

I rejoiced, and laughed a good Chuckle as I made haste upstairs. So close cou'd Man come to losing his Davey Bolingbroke, and yet emerge Strong as a Satyr! Such was Grist to my Mill - and Powder in Mme Bainton's Mortar, to which I soon applied my Pestle.

***

In other Newes - if ye be acquaint'd at all with the Hilarious, move post-haste at once to www.benrwilliams.blogspot.com, and indulge in a Feast of Mirth.

Wel loved he garleek, oynons, and eek lekes

The Cafeteria must rank high 'mongst the modern Conveniences. Where in Rome wou'd they have design'd such a Contrivance? What Tyrant of Auld Anatolia wou'd have the subtile Reasoning, that allow'd him to design such a simple Improvement, for the Welfare of his People?

A Tale is told in Siam, of a gold-paint'd king named Boromorachas. So lazy & lax was he in the enforcement of his Laws, that Penury oppress'd his Subjects. Gnawing Depredation wore thin the Skin of their Skulls, till at a ten-foot distance, one cou'd read the Heartbeat pounding in their bared Veins.

Boromorachas betook himself to a lowly Shanty, the sole refuge for a sayer of SOOTH. This wizen'd Figure impart'd the cryptic Message, handed to him by the Sauvage Idolls - "Build ye a Mess Hall, that yr People might rejoice, at the Tubbs & Buckets & Tins of food!"

But Boromorachas sneer'd, & instead invest'd the Money in divers Entertainments - follies, and such Capers as wou'd shame the highest Cizar of Degenerate Rome. Principle among these, the hire of one Garrey Glitter. Glitter, a sage & wize Privy Counsellor, skill'd in politicking & the stewardship of State, came at a Flash.

Borne to Earth in a Shower of sparkling green & lavender Drops, Glitter descended on the Wings of Nymphs. Being a savage State, they recogniz'd him at once for a God. But noble Glitter refus'd the heathen honours, knowing them to be false & unbecoming to the proper Stature of a Philosophe. Instead, with his paw resting on the shoulder of a wimpering Cherub, he offer'd the following:

"I refuse to play for ye, Boro.! For your tyrranous Rule has unstitch'd the noble Rainment of Mankind, leaving them hobbled, parch'd & sully'd."

Boromorachas chuttled at this, and lick'd the rim of his gold Goblet in glee. "Speak thusly, Glitter, and ye soon shall find yrself in the Stockade! For full five days have my Slaves labored, sewing new vests festoon'd with diamonds, pearls, & glass-baubles, laying abroad the Contents of my luxuriant Harem and its indolent lusty crew, & Finally baking such treats, candies & delights as ladies adore."

Glitter sniff'd at the unwholesome Treats, specially the table of Cookies, richly laid out in the best fashion. At once the spongy Fingers of an avaricious Wench groped across the sweet-breads, like the sopping Tentacle of an Octo-pod. At once, Glitter spat at the whole assembly, and flew 'cross the Country.

Landing in the North of Siam, a remote Corner where the strain'd clerickal Eyes of the King's Court cou'd not penetrate, Glitter establish'd a most Remarkable Experiment: a Line of Foods, tasty & sumptuous; a Shanty-town of Tents & Hovells for the poor. And always, for the Poorest, a spare Place in the plain yet noble Tent of Glitter, Himself.

Such Speculations as these crowded up the Channals & Eddies of my busy'd Brain, yester-noon, as I sat chewing away at a Pizza-Boat. This peculiar Contrivance resembles a Bier, such as Cleopatra herself might've couch'd upon, and yet instead, has been heap'd with divers cheeses, tomato paste, and a certain crusting of burnt Ingredients. In my Approach to the Food-counters I most frequently bear the Aspect of a half-madden'd Prophet, fix'd to the inevitable satiation of my hollow'd-out Gut. My Belly so yowls & grumbles during the day, that I have wonder'd, might this not signify yet another be-witchment by the nefarious King Bettie?

There is no Question that fills a Bowl, however, and soon enough I have shov'd from the Shore the stinking Pizza-boat. As it floated past my Teeth, a noxious humor float'd off it, more befitting one of the fabled Vikings Death-ships, stuff'd with Death & Gold. Cheese bubbled off, white as bone, lump'd & clump'd as Mucous, and the bread crackled in my poor buttery hands, as I realized the Tomato-paste had quite greazed my Fingers. Quickly I did upend my Jaw, and allow the Pizza-boat to sink into my Gullet, quite like the Titanic, crack'd in half on the moonless Ocean. Thus did the Pizza-boat serve as Funeral-pyre for my appettite.

And yet worse wonders await'd poor Epaph! In towne, I wended way to that Mexican Tavern, hoping to secure Victuall in anticipation of the mighty Tasks ahead of me. Upon opening the door, a sweeping Bluster of Wind, hot as Zephirus' spring-Gusts, bust'd my Face. The Room had been festoon'd in such Ponchoes, of garish colors, as usual accompany such Eateries. White as the angelic robes, the walls reflect'd every Shadow; Silence paw'd at every corner with his lugubrious digits. I felt sweat curdle at the Skin of my Back.

"You - sit, you can sit anywhere," said she, and I travell'd to my chosen Table. A flagon of Iced sweet tea, I demanded, & a Bucket thereof for my Horses as well! Goodman Stubb had been kind enough to sit outside, but I knew that Rapscallion wou'd ignore the proper equine Diet & refuse my noble beasts their Treat. So she waddled out, and to grumblings, G. Stubb did my Bidding.

In sprawling Delight I array'd my papers & Issues across the Counter. Of late I have been much occupy'd with legal & fractious Troubles, such as wou'd concern none but the Iniquitous. I had planned a noon of sumptuous teas & salsas, a Burrittoe-loaded day of Work.

And then I touch'd Tongue to the Tea, and knew someone had blunder'd. The tea cloy'd at my Taste, duplicitous-sweet & tart as a 2-Doubbloon harlot, as are easily found along the Docks at Richmond. A merest Fascimile of the noble Southern maid, Sweet-tea, had been slipp'd to me by these treacherous Nacho-Merchants. I knew, above all, Caution must preside over my next action.

I dipped a dainty Chip into the Salsa, and found it little more than piping-hot Tomatoe Sauce! Spaghetti'd thro' the Sauce were chunks & flecks of the Nastiest sort. A singular Disgust curled at the corner of my Mouth; and yet I said nothing. Epaph. is nothing, if not the model of Circumspection.

"Madam," quoth Epaph., "have ye any better wares than these?"
She giggled.

"Madam, I must ask again. Have you any of the Genuine sweet-Tea?" She point'd, gnomically to the Kitchen-house. I point'd as well, and nodded, as if to ask, you mean for me to proceed? And she did.

So I Stroll'd. There I found a most debas'd Scene, of the sort that has set Men into Madness. A Cook, crouch'd above a Pot. Usual enough, you may say; Encumbrances such as Toilets have no place in a crowded Kitchen. And yet he had been defecating in my very Victualls - a Pot on the Stove. He held his Apron before him like a Skirt, and mutter'd wild Phrases in a kind of scatter'd Greek at the edge of his Tongue. He seem'd busy at some Figuring, which he carry'd out with an ink'd Feather on his skirt.

The Door only part-open'd, I peek'd in, viz., Sir are you indeed the cook in charge of my Pulled Pork Sandwhich -

And the Door slid, and open'd the room, and unveil'd a-top the Ice-Chest - the Brazen-oak Visage of my most dire Enemy, my Nemesis, Antithesis, warped Father of all that has come to Plague -

KING BETTIE, dictating the Chaunts & Tags of Devillish Iniquity!

On Dealings with the Salvages

[Note: my father has request'd special dispensation to author the following Post-mail. Wending his way thro' the Woods, he spent many Years residing above the Inhabitants of this Colony, trading, bartering, & allying with those call'd Indians. In Waters that drown'd many an Englishman before him, he did swim, & sip. His Usages are Antient, & require some decipherment; know that to him, Indians are still "Naturalls," "Salvages," or the various Tribes. Tho' his Nomenclatures recall a distant & perhaps-surpassed Epoch, they yet make nicer Distinctions than we, in our Ink-Potted & be-Candled luxury.]

Greetings, & warmestt salutations forthe;

I bring the most Grievous Newes. My sonne hath retriev'd the following, a moving Lithograph, & a disturbing Figment it is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZM-NlRPvdWA

In travells with Cols. Harrison & Byrd, a Winde once blew vs quite offe-corse. Heav'd off the Cheasapioc Bay, an Unmercifull Prouvidence lodg'd us against one of the Paeninsulae. There, in a Piccoson, or a Swampe as we calld it, the Salvages did surround us, yipping & Shrieking their Terrible Cryes thro'out the night. Alive with Snaykes & Inseckts, all astir & disarray'd by our circumstances, wee cou'd but pray God Release us!

And yet doe I find mysellf againe beseaching the Lorde God, begging that he wou'd save us from this new Menayce. See here, in the Lithograph, how the Naturall hath learn'd the art of Mechanistick Creation! This monstrous Clanking beast, that he cacklingly controls, cou'd abolish the Colony wholle-sale! What Deuillish sprite cou'd have given him such tools of Wickednesse? Cou'd there be more horrid thought, than that Opekan-canoe wou'd grab a hold of that tinye remote, and Raize the Citties of our Lovelye Colony? I ask ye this -

[He is rather long-winded, my father.]

Solicit'd by my sonne, Epaph. Bainton, I have bin ask'd to recount the long-deade years of Gov. Berkeley, Nat. Bacon, and the usages of þat tyme, so long Since gone, I prouide the following.

Such a Tyme as it was, and shall Nott be repeat'd. Then did Giantes stride, and makke the Historie for themselves, not Leaving the makking to Otheres!

I remember Once, Gov Berkeley did say to me, Gugliemus, fetch me an Salvage ladey with whom I mite makke loue, and -

[he prattles on so.]

Indians such as These did I traffick & Deal with:



Such a man as thys cou'd be trust'd with my young sonne Epaphrodit., as when he was a Babe & I wou'd leav him in the care of Waherrosqok, a Sauvage Maiden much addict'd to the care of children. And Young Ephaph. wou'd giggle & gurgle in her paint'd arms, and her husband, Opatcheran, wd take the Same to sport with the Sauvage boys in fields. In such ease did my Familly cauort, whilst the Naturalls werre at Peace with England. The Chikahominys cou'd be trust'd with near-any thinge, as cou'd the Nansemond & Nottoway. Those Nott. gave mee & mine familly svp so freqwent as to spoil our Stomachs w. their riche Fatts & Greazes. I say this, well-admitting that the Manahoacs did burn my Wife's father's house Straightt to the Grounde, & I cannot begin to Tally the crimes of the Richeharians or Doeg, both Villainous tribes of Burnished Rascalry.

Those self-same peacefull Naturalls did give freqwent Cause for Beating, nonetheless. Once a Sauvage did arrest me in my Pathe, & ask of me, why do I see ye soo freqwent Comeing & goeing from the woods w. Waherrosqok? At which juncture I cuff'd him, for insolence, as -

[Here I abbrev. Father's most excellent Reasonings, & skip to a Grave Warning:]

But Shee is dead, & thatt was in Another Countrie. The Feare that most possesses old Col. Bainton, w. his rotten Bones & scarr'd-up Teeth, my Boddie broken by the Sundry blowes of Native Treachery - That Hulking Beast.

I explain this Hellish Development one Way: the Alliance betwixt the Savauge, & the Creeping Dutchman. Meet it is to invite these younge men to work our Furnaces, our Glass-Factors, our Kilns & Bakers &C. but I wou'd have none o' their Sooty Visages, trooping thro' my house, in their Boottes, & Tracking ashen Wastes 'cross the careful-laid Domestick work of my Wife. They are uicious, troublous deceit-men, all, and have bin known to make Pact with the Naturalls, quite against our Explicit Commands.

Thus I say that the Dutchen Smelters crafted their Ingenious Creature, a Mannikin perhaps of thee Powhatan's God Okee, and haue unleash'd him upon the swete-natur'd, tender-tongued Cavallier! The fondest flower of British Mannhood, match'd to fight Duplicitous Wickednesse. Shall we ever finde again, those stronge Menn such as Bacon, who wd happly have lead vs into the Ockaneech Territory, to take many a Captive & slay many -

[Col. Bainton rides eagerly on his Thoughts & allows their Sport to Trans-port him wherever it may. He sits now in his Farm in Newe Kent Co., more comfortable in the Cittie Counties of James or Charles, his Stomping-Grounds from childhood. Having retired from the bustling Life of a Counsellor, the Work that demanded he stay in Williamsburg or the now-abandoned JAMESTOWN, he occupies himself solely with Dangers, Warnings, & Pestilences. This most recent Scare has sent him quite into a Phrenzy, and left his brains quite disorder'd, leaping at one Memory, then another. From a soot'd Window he watches the Road & the sundry Trafficks as they pass by, having Little to do with the World at large. Once or twice, I thought I had seen him poke, with his finger, at the Glass, as tho' to wave at someone - tho' I cou'd not say who.]