Chapter 19

In all this time you may believe we were in no little Affliction for _Caesar_ and his Wife; some were of Opinion he was escaped, never to return; others thought some Accident had happened to him: But however, we fail'd not to send out a hundred People several Ways, to search for him. A Party of about forty went that Way he took, among whom was _Tuscan_, who was perfectly reconciled to _Byam_: They had not gone very far into the Wood, but they smelt an unusual Smell, as of a dead Body; for Stinks must be very noisom, that can be distinguish'd among such a Quantity of natural Sweets, as every Inch of that Land produces: so that they concluded they should find him dead, or some body that was so; they pass'd on towards it, as loathsom as it was, and made such rustling among the Leaves that lie thick on the Ground, by continual falling, that _Caesar_ heard he was approach'd; and though he had, during the Space of these eight Days, endeavour'd to rise, but found he wanted Strength, yet looking up, and seeing his Pursuers, he rose, and reel'd to a neighbouring Tree, against which he fix'd his Back; and being within a dozen Yards of those that advanc'd and saw him, he call'd out to them, and bid them approach no nearer, if they would be safe. So that they stood still, and hardly believing their Eyes, that would persuade them that it was _Caesar_ that spoke to them, so much he was alter'd; they ask'd him, what he had done with his Wife, for they smelt a Stink that almost struck them dead? He pointing to the dead Body, sighing, cry'd, _Behold her there._ They put off the Flowers that cover'd her, with their Sticks, and found she was kill'd, and cry'd out, _Oh, Monster! that hast murder'd thy Wife._ Then asking him, why he did so cruel a Deed? He reply'd, He had no Leisure to answer impertinent Questions: 'You may go back (_continued he_) and tell the faithless Governor, he may thank Fortune that I am breathing my last; and that my Arm is too feeble to obey my Heart, in what it had design'd him': But his Tongue faultering, and trembling, he could scarce end what he was saying. The _English_ taking Advantage by his Weakness, cry'd, _Let us take him alive by all Means._ He heard 'em; and, as if he had reviv'd from a Fainting, or a Dream, he cried out, 'No, Gentlemen, you are deceived; you will find no more _Caesars_ to be whipt; no more find a Faith in me; Feeble as you think me, I have Strength yet left to secure me from a second Indignity.' They swore all anew; and he only shook his Head, and beheld them with Scorn. Then they cry'd out, _Who will venture on this single Man? Will nobody?_ They stood all silent, while _Caesar_ replied, _Fatal will be the Attempt of the first Adventurer, let him assure himself_, (and, at that Word, held up his Knife in a menacing Posture:) _Look ye, ye faithless Crew_, said he, _'tis not Life I seek, nor am I afraid of dying_, (and at that Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from his own Throat, and threw it at 'em) _yet still I would live if I could, till I had perfected my Revenge: But, oh! it cannot be; I feel Life gliding from my Eyes and Heart; and if I make not haste, I shall fall a Victim to the shameful Whip._ At that, he rip'd up his own Belly, and took his Bowels and pull'd 'em out, with what Strength he could; while some, on their Knees imploring, besought him to hold his Hand. But when they saw him tottering, they cry'd out, _Will none venture on him?_ A bold _Englishman_ cry'd, _Yes, if he were the Devil_, (taking Courage when he saw him almost dead) and swearing a horrid Oath for his farewel to the World, he rush'd on him. _Caesar_ with his arm'd Hand, met him so fairly, as stuck him to the Heart, and he Fell dead at his feet. _Tuscan_ seeing that, cry'd out, _I love thee, O +Caesar+! and therefore will not let thee die, if possible_; and running to him, took him in his Arms; but, at the same time, warding a Blow that _Caesar_ made at his Bosom, he receiv'd it quite through his Arm; and _Caesar_ having not Strength to pluck the Knife forth, tho' he attempted it, _Tuscan_ neither pull'd it out himself, nor suffer'd it to be pull'd out, but came down with it sticking in his Arm; and the Reason he gave for it, was, because the Air should not get into the Wound. They put their Hands a-cross, and carry'd _Caesar_ between six of 'em, fainting as he was, and they thought dead, or just dying; and they brought him to _Parham_, and laid him on a Couch, and had the Chirurgeon immediately to him, who dressed his Wounds, and sow'd up his Belly, and us'd Means to bring him to Life, which they effected. We ran all to see him; and, if before we thought him so beautiful a Sight, he was now so alter'd, that his Face was like a Death's-Head black'd over, nothing but Teeth and Eye-holes: For some Days we suffer'd no Body to speak to him, but caused Cordials to be poured down his Throat; which sustained his Life, and in six or seven Days he recovered his Senses: For, you must know, that Wounds are almost to a Miracle cur'd in the _Indies_; unless Wounds in the Legs, which they rarely ever cure.

When he was well enough to speak, we talk'd to him, and ask'd him some Questions about his Wife, and the Reasons why he kill'd her; and he then told us what I have related of that Resolution, and of his Parting, and he besought us we would let him die, and was extremely afflicted to think it was possible he might live: He assur'd us, if we did not dispatch him, he would prove very fatal to a great many. We said all we could to make him live, and gave him new Assurances; but he begg'd we would not think so poorly of him, or of his Love to _Imoinda_, to imagine we could flatter him to Life again: But the Chirurgeon assur'd him he could not live, and therefore he need not fear. We were all (but _Caesar_) afflicted at this News, and the Sight was ghastly: His Discourse was sad; and the earthy Smell about him so strong, that I was persuaded to leave the Place for some time, (being my self but sickly, and very apt to fall into Fits of dangerous Illness upon any extraordinary Melancholy.) The Servants, and _Trefry_, and the Chirurgeons, promis'd all to take what possible Care they could of the Life of _Caesar_; and I, taking Boat, went with other Company to Colonel _Martin's_, about three Days Journey down the River. But I was no sooner gone, than the Governor taking _Trefry_, about some pretended earnest Business, a Day's Journey up the River, having communicated his Design to one _Banister_, a wild _Irish_ Man, one of the Council, a Fellow of absolute Barbarity, and fit to execute any Villany, but rich; he came up to _Parham_, and forcibly took _Caesar_, and had him carried to the same Post where he was whipp'd; and causing him to be ty'd to it, and a great Fire made before him, he told him he should die like a Dog, as he was. _Caesar_ replied, This was the first piece of Bravery that ever _Banister_ did, and he never spoke Sense till he pronounc'd that Word; and if he would keep it, he would declare, in the other World, that he was the only Man, of all the _Whites_, that ever he heard speak Truth. And turning to the Men that had bound him, he said, _My Friends, am I to die, or to be whipt?_ And they cry'd, _Whipt! no, you shall not escape so well._ And then he reply'd, smiling, _A Blessing on thee_; and assur'd them they need not tie him, for he would stand fix'd like a Rock, and endure Death so as should encourage them to die: _But if you whip me_ (said he) _be sure you tie me fast_.

He had learn'd to take Tobacco; and when he was assur'd he should die, he desir'd they would give him a Pipe in his Mouth, ready lighted; which they did: And the Executioner came, and first cut off his Members, and threw them into the Fire; after that, with an ill-favour'd Knife, they cut off his Ears and his Nose, and burn'd them; he still smoak'd on, as if nothing had touch'd him; then they hack'd off one of his Arms, and still he bore up and held his Pipe; but at the cutting off the other Arm, his Head sunk, and his Pipe dropt, and he gave up the Ghost, without a Groan, or a Reproach. My Mother and Sister were by him all the While, but not suffer'd to save him; so rude and wild were the Rabble, and so inhuman were the Justices who stood by to see the Execution, who after paid dear enough for their Insolence. They cut _Caesar_ into Quarters, and sent them to several of the chief Plantations: One Quarter was sent to Colonel _Martin_; who refus'd it, and swore, he had rather see the Quarters of _Banister_, and the Governor himself, than those of _Caesar_, on his Plantations; and that he could govern his _Negroes_, without terrifying and grieving them with frightful Spectacles of a mangled King.

Thus died this great Man, worthy of a better Fate, and a more sublime Wit than mine to write his Praise: Yet, I hope, the Reputation of my Pen is considerable enough to make his glorious Name to survive to all Ages, with that of the brave, the beautiful and the constant _Imoinda_.

NOTES: Oroonoko.

p. 509 _Appendix. Oronooko: Epistle Dedicatory._ Richard Maitland, fourth Earl of Lauderdale (1653-95), eldest son of Charles, third Earl of Lauderdale by Elizabeth, daughter and heiress of Richard Lauder of Halton, was born 20 June, 1653. Before his father succeeded to the Lauderdale title he was styled of Over-Gogar; after that event he was known as Lord Maitland. 9 October, 1678, he was sworn a Privy Councillor, and appointed Joint General of the Mint with his father. In 1681 he was made Lord Justice General, but deprived of that office three years later on account of suspected communications with his father-in-law, Argyll, who had fled to Holland in 1681. Maitland, however, was in truth a strong Jacobite, and refusing to accept the Revolution settlement became an exile with his King. He is said to have been present at the battle of the Boyne, 1 July, 1690. He resided for some time at St. Germains, but fell into disfavour, perhaps owing to the well-known protestant sympathies of his wife, Lady Agnes Campbell (1658-1734), second daughter of the fanatical Archibald, Earl of Argyll. From St. Germains Maitland retired to Paris, where he died in 1695. He had succeeded to the Earldom of Lauderdale 9 June, 1691, but was outlawed by the Court of Justiciary, 23 July, 1694. He left no issue. Lauderdale was the author of a verse translation of Virgil (8vo, 1718 and 2 Vols., 12mo, 1737). Dryden, to whom he sent a MS. copy from Paris, states that whilst working on his own version he consulted this whenever a crux appeared in the Latin text. Lauderdale also wrote _A Memorial on the Estate of Scotland_ (about 1690), printed in Hooke's _Correspondence_ (Roxburghe Club), and there wrongly ascribed to the third Earl, his father.

The Dedication only occurs in the first edition of _Oronooko_ (1688), of which I can trace but one copy. This is in the library of Mr. F. F. Norcross of Chicago, whose brother-in-law, Mr. Harold B. Wrenn, most kindly transcribed and transmitted to me the Epistle Dedicatory. It, unfortunately, arrived too late for insertion at p. 129.

p. 130 _I gave 'em to the King's Theatre._ Sir Robert Howard and Dryden's heroic tragedy, _The Indian Queen_, was produced at the Theatre Royal in mid-January, 1663. It is a good play, but the extraordinary success it attained was in no small measure due to the excellence and magnificence of the scenic effects and mounting. 27 January, Pepys noticed that the streets adjacent to the theatre were 'full of coaches at the new play _The Indian Queen_, which for show, they say, exceeds _Henry VIII_.' On 1 February he himself found it 'indeed a most pleasant show'. The grandeur of the _mise en scene_ became long proverbial in theatrical history. Zempoalla, the Indian Queen, a fine role, was superbly acted by Mrs. Marshall, the leading tragedienne of the day. The feathered ornaments which Mrs. Behn mentions must have formed a quaint but doubtless striking addition to the actress's pseudo-classic attire. Bernbaum pictures 'Nell Gwynn[5] in the true costume of a Carib belle', a quite unfair deduction from Mrs. Behn's words.

p. 168 _Osenbrigs._ More usually 'osnaburg', so named from Osnabrueck in North Germany, a kind of coarse linen made in this town. Narborough's Journal, 1669 (_An Account of Several Late Voyages_, 1694), speaks of 'Cloth, Osenbrigs, Tobacco'. cf. _Pennsylvania Col. Records_ (1732): 'That to each there be given a couple of Shirts, a Jackett, two pairs of trowsers of Oznabrigs.'

p. 174 _as soon as the Governour arrived_. The Governor was Francis Willoughby, fifth Baron Willoughby of Parham (1613?-1666). He had arrived at Barbadoes, 29 April, 1650, and was received as Governor 7 May, which same day he caused Charles II to be proclaimed. An ardent royalist, he was dispossessed by an Act of Parliament, 4 March, 1652, and summoned back to England. At the Restoration he was reinstated, and arrived the second time with full powers in Barbadoes, 10 August, 1663. About the end of July, 1666, he was lost at sea on board the good ship _Hope_.

p. 177 _my Father . . . never arriv'd to possess the Honour design'd him._ Bernbaum, following the mistaken statement that Mrs. Behn's father, John Amis, was a barber, argues that a man in such a position could hardly have obtained so important a post, and if her 'father was not sent to Surinam, the only reason she gives for being there disappears.' However, since we know her father to have been no barber, but of good family, this line of discussion falls to the ground.

p. 180 _Brother to Harry Martin the great Oliverian._ Henry, or Harry, and George Marten were the two sons of Sir Henry Marten (_ob._ 1641) and his first wife, Elizabeth, who died 19 June, 1618. For the elder brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note Vol. I, p. 457.

p. 193 _The Deputy Governor._ William Byam was 'Lieutenant General of Guiana and Governor of Willoughby Land', 1661-7. Even previously to this he had gained no little influence and power in these colonies. He headed the forces that defended Surinam in 1667 against the Dutch Admiral Crynsens, who, however, proved victorious.

p. 198 _my new Comedy. The Younger Brother; or, The Amorous Jilt_, posthumously produced under the auspices of, and with some alterations by, Charles Gildon at Drury Lane in 1696. George Marteen, acted by Powell, is the young and gallant hero of the comedy.

p. 200 _his Council_. In _The Widow Ranter_ Mrs. Behn draws a vivid picture of these deboshed ruffians.

p. 207 _one Banister_. Sergeant Major James Banister being, after Byam's departure in 1667, 'the only remaining eminent person' became Lieutenant-Governor. It was he who in 1668 made the final surrender of the colony. Later, having quarrelled with the Dutch he was imprisoned by them.

[Footnote 5: Nell Gwynne had no part in the play.]

Cross-Reference from Critical Notes: _Oroonoko_

Note to p. 180: For the elder brother, Henry Marten, (1602-80), see note Vol. I, p. 457.

Vol. I, p. 457 note (referring to _The Roundheads_, V, ii):

p. 414 _Peters the first_, _Martin the Second_. Hugh Peters has been noticed before. Henry Martin was an extreme republican, and at one time even a Leveller. He was a commissioner of the High Court of Justice and a regicide. At the Restoration he was imprisoned for life and died at Chepstow Castle, 1681, aged seventy-eight. He was notorious for profligacy and shamelessness, and kept a very seraglio of mistresses. [[The date "1681" is in the original.]]

* * * * * * * * *

AGNES DE CASTRO.

INTRODUCTION.

The 'sweet sentimental tragedy' of Agnes de Castro was founded by Mrs. Behn upon a work by Mlle S. B. de Brillac, _Agnes de Castro, nouvelle portugaise_ (1688), and various subsequent editions. In the same year (1688) as Mrs. Behn's _Agnes de Castro; or, The Force of Generous Blood_ was published there appeared 'Two New Novels, i. _The Art of Making Love_.[1] ii. _The Fatal Beauty of Agnes de Castro_: Taken out of the History of Portugal. Translated from the French by P. B. G.[2] For R. Bentley' (12mo). Each has a separate title page. Bellon's version does not differ materially from Mrs. Behn, but she far exceeds him in spirit and niceness of style.

So much legend has surrounded the romantic history of the beautiful Ines de Castro that it is impossible fully to elucidate every detail of her life. Born in the early years of the fourteenth century, she was the daughter of Pedro Fernandez de Castro, major domo to Alphonso XI of Castille. She accompanied her relative, Dona Constanca Manuel, daughter to the Duke of Penafiel, to the court of Alphonso IV of Portugal when this lady was to wed the Infante Don Pedro. Here Ines excited the fondest love in Pedro's heart and the passion was reciprocated. She bore him several children, and there can be no doubt that Dona Constanca was madly jealous of her husband's amour with her fair friend. 13 November, 1345, Constanca died, and Pedro immediately married his mistress at Braganza in the presence of the Bishop of Guarda. Their nuptials were kept secret, and the old King kept pressing his son to take a wife. Before long his spies found out the reason of the Infante's constant refusals; and, beside himself with rage, he watched an opportunity whilst Pedro, on a great hunting expedition, was absent from Coimbra where they resided, and had Ines cruelly assassinated 7 January, 1355. The grief of Pedro was terrible, he plunged the country into civil war, and it was only by the tenderest solicitations of his mother and the authority of several holy monks and bishops that he was restrained from taking a terrible revenge upon his father. Alphonso died, his power curtailed, his end unhappy, May, 1357.

A very literature has grown up around the lovely Ines, and many more than a hundred items of interest could be enumerated. The best authority is J. de Araujo, whose monumental _Bibliographia Inesiana_ was published in 1897. Mrs. Behn's novel was immensely popular and is included, with some unnecessary moral observations as preface, in Mrs. Griffith's _A Collection of Novels_ (1777), Vol. III, which has a plate illustrating the tale. It was turned into French by Marie-Genevieve-Charlotte Tiroux d' Arconville (1720-1805), wife of a councillor of the Parliament, an aimable blue-stocking who devoted her life wholly to literature, and translated freely from English. This work is to be found in _Romans (les deux premiers . . . tires des Lettres Persanes . . . par M. Littleton et le dernier . . . d'un Recueil de Romans . . . de Madame Behn) traduits de l' Anglois_, (Amsterdam, 1761.) It occurs again in _Melanges de Litterature_ (12mo, 1775, etc.), Vol. VI.

A tragedy, _Agnes de Castro_, written by that philosophical lady, Catherine Trotter (afterwards Cockburn), at the early age of sixteen, and produced at the Theatre Royal, 1696, with Powell, Verbruggen, Mrs. Rogers in the principal parts, is directly founded upon Mrs. Behn. It is a mediocre play, and the same can even more truly be said of Mallet's cold _Elvira_ (1763). This was acted, however, with fair success thirteen times. Garrick played Don Pedro, his last original part, and Mrs. Cibber Elvira. Such dull exercises as C. Symmons, _Inez, a tragedy_ (1796), and _Ignez de Castro_, a tragedy in verse, intended for _Hoad's Magazine_ call for no comment.

There is a French play by Lamotte on the subject of Ines de Castro, which was first produced 6 April, 1723. Voltaire found the first four acts execrable and laughed consumedly. The fifth was so tender and true that he melted into tears. In Italian we have, from the pen of Bertoletti, _Inez de Castro_, tragedia, Milano, 1826.

In Spanish and Portuguese there are, of course, innumerable poems, treaties, tragedies, studies, romances. Lope de Vega wrote _Dona Inez de Castro_, and the beautiful episode of Camoens is deservedly famous. Antonio Ferreira's splendid tragedy is well known. First published in _Comedias Famosas dos Doctores de Sa de Mirande_ (4to, 1622), it can also be read in _Poemas lusitanos_ (2 Vols., 8vo, Lisbon, 1771). Domingo dos Reis Quita wrote a drama, _Ignez de Castro_, a translation of which, by Benjamin Thompson, was published in 1800. There is also a play _Dona Ignez de Castro_, by Nicolas Luiz, which was Englished by John Adamson, whose version was printed at Newcastle, 1808.

[Footnote 1: Mr. Arundell Esdaile in his _Bibliography of Fiction_ (_printed before 1740_) erroneously identifies this amusing little piece with Mrs. Behn's _The Lover's Watch_. It is, however, quite another thing, dealing with a pseudo-Turkish language of love.]

[Footnote 2: i.e., Peter Bellon, Gent. Bellon was an assiduous hackney writer and translator of the day. He has also left one comedy, _The Mock Duellist; or, The French Valet_ (4to, 1675).]

THE HISTORY OF _AGNES de CASTRO_.

Tho' Love, all soft and flattering, promises nothing but Pleasures; yet its Consequences are often sad and fatal. It is not enough to be in love, to be happy; since Fortune, who is capricious, and takes delight to trouble the Repose of the most elevated and virtuous, has very little respect for passionate and tender Hearts, when she designs to produce strange Adventures.

Many Examples of past Ages render this Maxim certain; but the Reign of _Don Alphonso_ the IVth, King of _Portugal_, furnishes us with one, the most extraordinary that History can produce.

He was the Son of that _Don Denis_, who was so successful in all his Undertakings, that it was said of him, that he was capable of performing whatever he design'd, (and of _Isabella_, a Princess of eminent Virtue) who when he came to inherit a flourishing and tranquil State, endeavour'd to establish Peace and Plenty in abundance in his Kingdom.

And to advance this his Design, he agreed on a Marriage between his Son _Don Pedro_ (then about eight Years of Age) and _Bianca_, Daughter of _Don Pedro_, King of _Castile_; and whom the young Prince married when he arriv'd to his sixteenth Year.

_Bianca_ brought nothing to _Coimbra_ but Infirmities and very few Charms. _Don Pedro_, who was full of Sweetness and Generosity, lived nevertheless very well with her; but those Distempers of the Princess degenerating into the Palsy, she made it her request to retire, and at her Intercession the Pope broke the Marriage, and the melancholy Princess conceal'd her Languishment in a solitary Retreat: And _Don Pedro_, for whom they had provided another Match, married _Constantia Manuel_, Daughter of _Don John Manuel_, a Prince of the Blood of _Castile_, and famous for the Enmity he had to his King.

_Constantia_ was promised to the King of _Castile_; but the King not keeping his word, they made no Difficulty of bestowing her on a young Prince, who was one Day to reign over a number of fine Provinces. He was but five and twenty years of Age, and the Man of all _Spain_ that had the best Fashion and Grace: and with the most advantageous Qualities of the Body he possest those of the Soul, and shewed himself worthy in all things of the Crown that was destin'd for him.

The Princess _Constantia_ had Beauty, Wit, and Generosity, in as great a measure as 'twas possible for a Woman to be possest with; her Merit alone ought to have attach'd _Don Pedro_, eternally to her; and certainly he had for her an Esteem, mix'd with so great a Respect, as might very well pass for Love with those that were not of a nice and curious Observation: but alas! his real Care was reserved for another Beauty.