HALFWAY1 down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty2 wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference3, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm. On my occasional visits to the town aforesaid, I seldom failed to turn down Pyncheon Street, for the sake of passing through the shadow of these two antiquities4 — the great elm-tree and the weather-beaten edifice5.
The aspect of the venerable mansion6 has always affected7 me like a human countenance8, bearing the traces not merely of outward storm and sunshine, but expressive10 also, of the long lapse11 of mortal life, and accompanying vicissitudes13 that have passed within. Were these to be worthily14 recounted, they would form a narrative15 of no small interest and instruction, and possessing, moreover, a certain remarkable16 unity17, which might almost seem the result of artistic18 arrangement. But the story would include a chain of events extending over the better part of two centuries, and, written out with reasonable amplitude19, would fill a bigger folio volume, or a longer series of duodecimos, than could prudently20 be appropriated to the annals of all New England during a similar period. It consequently becomes imperative21 to make short work with most of the traditionary lore22 of which the old Pyncheon House, otherwise known as the House of the Seven Gables, has been the theme. With a brief sketch23, therefore, of the circumstances amid which the foundation of the house was laid, and a rapid glimpse at its quaint24 exterior25, as it grew black in the prevalent east wind — pointing, too, here and there, at some spot of more verdant27 mossiness on its roof and walls — we shall commence the real action of our tale at an epoch29 not very remote from the present day. Still, there will be a connection with the long past — a reference to forgotten events and personages, and to manners, feelings, and opinions, almost or wholly obsolete30 — which, if adequately translated to the reader, would serve to illustrate31 how much of old material goes to make up the freshest novelty of human life. Hence, too, might be drawn32 a weighty lesson from the little-regarded truth, that the act of the passing generation is the germ which may and must produce good or evil fruit in a far-distant time; that, together with the seed of the merely temporary crop, which mortals term expediency33, they inevitably34 sow the acorns35 of a more enduring growth, which may darkly overshadow their posterity36.
The House of the Seven Gables, antique as it now looks, was not the first habitation erected37 by civilized39 man on precisely40 the same spot of ground. Pyncheon Street formerly41 bore the humbler appellation43 of Maule’s Lane, from the name of the original occupant of the soil, before whose cottage-door it was a cow-path. A natural spring of soft and pleasant water — a rare treasure on the sea-girt peninsula where the Puritan settlement was made — had early induced Matthew Maule to build a hut, shaggy with thatch44, at this point, although somewhat too remote from what was then the centre of the village. In the growth of the town, however, after some thirty or forty years, the site covered by this rude hovel had become exceedingly desirable in the eyes of a prominent and powerful personage, who asserted plausible45 claims to the proprietorship47 of this and a large adjacent tract48 of land, on the strength of a grant from the legislature. Colonel Pyncheon, the claimant, as we gather from whatever traits of him are preserved, was characterized by an iron energy of purpose. Matthew Maule, on the other hand, though an obscure man, was stubborn in the defence of what he considered his right; and, for several years, he succeeded in protecting the acre or two of earth which, with his own toil49, he had hewn out of the primeval forest, to be his garden ground and homestead. No written record of this dispute is known to be in existence. Our acquaintance with the whole subject is derived50 chiefly from tradition. It would be bold, therefore, and possibly unjust, to venture a decisive opinion as to its merits; although it appears to have been at least a matter of doubt, whether Colonel Pyncheon’s claim were not unduly51 stretched, in order to make it cover the small metes52 and bounds of Matthew Maule. What greatly strengthens such a suspicion is the fact that this controversy53 between two ill-matched antagonists55 — at a period, moreover, laud56 it as we may, when personal influence had far more weight than now — remained for years undecided, and came to a close only with the death of the party occupying the disputed soil. The mode of his death, too, affects the mind differently, in our day, from what it did a century and a half ago. It was a death that blasted with strange horror the humble42 name of the dweller57 in the cottage, and made it seem almost a religious act to drive the plough over the little area of his habitation, and obliterate58 his place and memory from among men.
Old Matthew Maule, in a word, was executed for the crime of witchcraft59. He was one of the martyrs60 to that terrible delusion61, which should teach us, among its other morals, that the influential62 classes, and those who take upon themselves to be leaders of the people, are fully63 liable to all the passionate64 error that has ever characterized the maddest mob. Clergymen, judges, statesmen — the wisest, calmest, holiest persons of their day stood in the inner circle round about the gallows65, loudest to applaud the work of blood, latest to confess themselves miserably66 deceived. If any one part of their proceedings67 can be said to deserve less blame than another, it was the singular indiscrimination with which they persecuted68, not merely the poor and aged69, as in former judicial70 massacres71, but people of all ranks; their own equals, brethren, and wives. Amid the disorder72 of such various ruin, it is not strange that a man of inconsiderable note, like Maule, should have trodden the martyr’s path to the hill of execution almost unremarked in the throng73 of his fellow sufferers. But, in after days, when the frenzy74 of that hideous75 epoch had subsided76, it was remembered how loudly Colonel Pyncheon had joined in the general cry, to purge77 the land from witchcraft; nor did it fail to be whispered, that there was an invidious acrimony in the zeal78 with which he had sought the condemnation79 of Matthew Maule. It was well known that the victim had recognized the bitterness of personal enmity in his persecutor80’s conduct towards him, and that he declared himself hunted to death for his spoil. At the moment of execution — with the halter about his neck, and while Colonel Pyncheon sat on horseback, grimly gazing at the scene Maule had addressed him from the scaffold, and uttered a prophecy, of which history, as well as fireside tradition, has preserved the very words. “God,” said the dying man, pointing his finger, with a ghastly look, at the undismayed countenance of his enemy —“God will give him blood to drink!” After the reputed wizard’s death, his humble homestead had fallen an easy spoil into Colonel Pyncheon’s grasp. When it was understood, however, that the Colonel intended to erect38 a family mansion-spacious, ponderously82 framed of oaken timber, and calculated to endure for many generations of his posterity over the spot first covered by the log-built hut of Matthew Maule, there was much shaking of the head among the village gossips. Without absolutely expressing a doubt whether the stalwart Puritan had acted as a man of conscience and integrity throughout the proceedings which have been sketched84, they, nevertheless, hinted that he was about to build his house over an unquiet grave. His home would include the home of the dead and buried wizard, and would thus afford the ghost of the latter a kind of privilege to haunt its new apartments, and the chambers86 into which future bridegrooms were to lead their brides, and where children of the Pyncheon blood were to be born. The terror and ugliness of Maule’s crime, and the wretchedness of his punishment, would darken the freshly plastered walls, and infect them early with the scent87 of an old and melancholy88 house. Why, then — while so much of the soil around him was bestrewn with the virgin89 forest leaves — why should Colonel Pyncheon prefer a site that had already been accurst?
But the Puritan soldier and magistrate90 was not a man to be turned aside from his well-considered scheme, either by dread91 of the wizard’s ghost, or by flimsy sentimentalities of any kind, however specious92. Had he been told of a bad air, it might have moved him somewhat; but he was ready to encounter an evil spirit on his own ground. Endowed with commonsense93, as massive and hard as blocks of granite94, fastened together by stern rigidity95 of purpose, as with iron clamps, he followed out his original design, probably without so much as imagining an objection to it. On the score of delicacy96, or any scrupulousness97 which a finer sensibility might have taught him, the Colonel, like most of his breed and generation, was impenetrable. He therefore dug his cellar, and laid the deep foundations of his mansion, on the square of earth whence Matthew Maule, forty years before, had first swept away the fallen leaves. It was a curious, and, as some people thought, an ominous98 fact, that, very soon after the workmen began their operations, the spring of water, above mentioned, entirely99 lost the deliciousness of its pristine100 quality. Whether its sources were disturbed by the depth of the new cellar, or whatever subtler cause might lurk101 at the bottom, it is certain that the water of Maule’s Well, as it continued to be called, grew hard and brackish102. Even such we find it now; and any old woman of the neighborhood will certify103 that it is productive of intestinal104 mischief105 to those who quench106 their thirst there.
The reader may deem it singular that the head carpenter of the new edifice was no other than the son of the very man from whose dead gripe the property of the soil had been wrested107. Not improbably he was the best workman of his time; or, perhaps, the Colonel thought it expedient108, or was impelled109 by some better feeling, thus openly to cast aside all animosity against the race of his fallen antagonist54. Nor was it out of keeping with the general coarseness and matter-of-fact character of the age, that the son should be willing to earn an honest penny, or, rather, a weighty amount of sterling110 pounds, from the purse of his father’s deadly enemy. At all events, Thomas Maule became the architect of the House of the Seven Gables, and performed his duty so faithfully that the timber framework fastened by his hands still holds together.
Thus the great house was built. Familiar as it stands in the writer’s recollection — for it has been an object of curiosity with him from boyhood, both as a specimen111 of the best and stateliest architecture of a longpast epoch, and as the scene of events more full of human interest, perhaps, than those of a gray feudal112 castle — familiar as it stands, in its rusty old age, it is therefore only the more difficult to imagine the bright novelty with which it first caught the sunshine. The impression of its actual state, at this distance of a hundred and sixty years, darkens inevitably through the picture which we would fain give of its appearance on the morning when the Puritan magnate bade all the town to be his guests. A ceremony of consecration113, festive114 as well as religious, was now to be performed. A prayer and discourse115 from the Rev26. Mr. Higginson, and the outpouring of a psalm116 from the general throat of the community, was to be made acceptable to the grosser sense by ale, cider, wine, and brandy, in copious117 effusion, and, as some authorities aver119, by an ox, roasted whole, or at least, by the weight and substance of an ox, in more manageable joints120 and sirloins. The carcass of a deer, shot within twenty miles, had supplied material for the vast circumference of a pasty. A codfish of sixty pounds, caught in the bay, had been dissolved into the rich liquid of a chowder. The chimney of the new house, in short, belching121 forth122 its kitchen smoke, impregnated the whole air with the scent of meats, fowls123, and fishes, spicily124 concocted125 with odoriferous herbs, and onions in abundance. The mere9 smell of such festivity, making its way to everybody’s nostrils126, was at once an invitation and an appetite.
Maule’s Lane, or Pyncheon Street, as it were now more decorous to call it, was thronged127, at the appointed hour, as with a congregation on its way to church. All, as they approached, looked upward at the imposing129 edifice, which was henceforth to assume its rank among the habitations of mankind. There it rose, a little withdrawn130 from the line of the street, but in pride, not modesty131. Its whole visible exterior was ornamented132 with quaint figures, conceived in the grotesqueness133 of a Gothic fancy, and drawn or stamped in the glittering plaster, composed of lime, pebbles134, and bits of glass, with which the woodwork of the walls was overspread. On every side the seven gables pointed128 sharply towards the sky, and presented the aspect of a whole sisterhood of edifices135, breathing through the spiracles of one great chimney. The many lattices, with their small, diamond-shaped panes136, admitted the sunlight into hall and chamber85, while, nevertheless, the second story, projecting far over the base, and itself retiring beneath the third, threw a shadowy and thoughtful gloom into the lower rooms. Carved globes of wood were affixed137 under the jutting139 stories. Little spiral rods of iron beautified each of the seven peaks. On the triangular140 portion of the gable, that fronted next the street, was a dial, put up that very morning, and on which the sun was still marking the passage of the first bright hour in a history that was not destined141 to be all so bright. All around were scattered142 shavings, chips, shingles143, and broken halves of bricks; these, together with the lately turned earth, on which the grass had not begun to grow, contributed to the impression of strangeness and novelty proper to a house that had yet its place to make among men’s daily interests.
The principal entrance, which had almost the breadth of a church-door, was in the angle between the two front gables, and was covered by an open porch, with benches beneath its shelter. Under this arched doorway144, scraping their feet on the unworn threshold, now trod the clergymen, the elders, the magistrates145, the deacons, and whatever of aristocracy there was in town or county. Thither146, too, thronged the plebeian147 classes as freely as their betters, and in larger number. Just within the entrance, however, stood two serving-men, pointing some of the guests to the neighborhood of the kitchen and ushering148 others into the statelier rooms — hospitable149 alike to all, but still with a scrutinizing150 regard to the high or low degree of each. Velvet151 garments sombre but rich, stiffly plaited ruffs and bands, embroidered152 gloves, venerable beards, the mien153 and countenance of authority, made it easy to distinguish the gentleman of worship, at that period, from the tradesman, with his plodding154 air, or the laborer155, in his leathern jerkin, stealing awe156-stricken into the house which he had perhaps helped to build.
One inauspicious circumstance there was, which awakened157 a hardly concealed158 displeasure in the breasts of a few of the more punctilious159 visitors. The founder160 of this stately mansion — a gentleman noted161 for the square and ponderous81 courtesy of his demeanor162, ought surely to have stood in his own hall, and to have offered the first welcome to so many eminent163 personages as here presented themselves in honor of his solemn festival. He was as yet invisible; the most favored of the guests had not beheld164 him. This sluggishness165 on Colonel Pyncheon’s part became still more unaccountable, when the second dignitary of the province made his appearance, and found no more ceremonious a reception. The lieutenant-governor, although his visit was one of the anticipated glories of the day, had alighted from his horse, and assisted his lady from her side-saddle, and crossed the Colonel’s threshold, without other greeting than that of the principal domestic.
This person — a gray-headed man, of quiet and most respectful deportment — found it necessary to explain that his master still remained in his study, or private apartment; on entering which, an hour before, he had expressed a wish on no account to be disturbed.
“Do not you see, fellow,” said the high-sheriff of the county, taking the servant aside, “that this is no less a man than the lieutenant-governor? Summon Colonel Pyncheon at once! I know that he received letters from England this morning; and, in the perusal166 and consideration of them, an hour may have passed away without his noticing it. But he will be ill-pleased, I judge if you suffer him to neglect the courtesy due to one of our chief rulers, and who may be said to represent King William, in the absence of the governor himself. Call your master instantly.”
“Nay, please your worship,” answered the man, in much perplexity, but with a backwardness that strikingly indicated the hard and severe character of Colonel Pyncheon’s domestic rule; “my master’s orders were exceeding strict; and, as your worship knows, he permits of no discretion167 in the obedience168 of those who owe him service. Let who list open yonder door; I dare not, though the governor’s own voice should bid me do it!”
“Pooh, pooh, master high sheriff!” cried the lieutenant-governor, who had overheard the foregoing discussion, and felt himself high enough in station to play a little with his dignity. “I will take the matter into my own hands. It is time that the good Colonel came forth to greet his friends; else we shall be apt to suspect that he has taken a sip83 too much of his Canary wine, in his extreme deliberation which cask it were best to broach169 in honor of the day! But since he is so much behindhand, I will give him a remembrancer myself!”
Accordingly, with such a tramp of his ponderous riding-boots as might of itself have been audible in the remotest of the seven gables, he advanced to the door, which the servant pointed out, and made its new panels reecho with a loud, free knock. Then, looking round, with a smile, to the spectators, he awaited a response. As none came, however, he knocked again, but with the same unsatisfactory result as at first. And now, being a trifle choleric170 in his temperament171, the lieutenant-governor uplifted the heavy hilt of his sword, wherewith he so beat and banged upon the door, that, as some of the bystanders whispered, the racket might have disturbed the dead. Be that as it might, it seemed to produce no awakening172 effect on Colonel Pyncheon. When the sound subsided, the silence through the house was deep, dreary173, and oppressive, notwithstanding that the tongues of many of the guests had already been loosened by a surreptitious cup or two of wine or spirits.
“Strange, forsooth!— very strange!” cried the lieutenant-governor, whose smile was changed to a frown. “But seeing that our host sets us the good example of forgetting ceremony, I shall likewise throw it aside, and make free to intrude174 on his privacy.”
He tried the door, which yielded to his hand, and was flung wide open by a sudden gust175 of wind that passed, as with a loud sigh, from the outermost176 portal through all the passages and apartments of the new house. It rustled177 the silken garments of the ladies, and waved the long curls of the gentlemen’s wigs178, and shook the window-hangings and the curtains of the bedchambers; causing everywhere a singular stir, which yet was more like a hush180. A shadow of awe and half-fearful anticipation181 — nobody knew wherefore, nor of what — had all at once fallen over the company.
They thronged, however, to the now open door, pressing the lieutenant-governor, in the eagerness of their curiosity, into the room in advance of them. At the first glimpse they beheld nothing extraordinary: a handsomely furnished room, of moderate size, somewhat darkened by curtains; books arranged on shelves; a large map on the wall, and likewise a portrait of Colonel Pyncheon, beneath which sat the original Colonel himself, in an oaken elbow-chair, with a pen in his hand. Letters, parchments, and blank sheets of paper were on the table before him. He appeared to gaze at the curious crowd, in front of which stood the lieutenant-governor; and there was a frown on his dark and massive countenance, as if sternly resentful of the boldness that had impelled them into his private retirement182.
A little boy — the Colonel’s grandchild, and the only human being that ever dared to be familiar with him — now made his way among the guests, and ran towards the seated figure; then pausing halfway, he began to shriek183 with terror. The company, tremulous as the leaves of a tree, when all are shaking together, drew nearer, and perceived that there was an unnatural184 distortion in the fixedness185 of Colonel Pyncheon’s stare; that there was blood on his ruff, and that his hoary186 beard was saturated187 with it. It was too late to give assistance. The iron-hearted Puritan, the relentless188 persecutor, the grasping and strong-willed man was dead! Dead, in his new house! There is a tradition, only worth alluding189 to as lending a tinge190 of superstitious191 awe to a scene perhaps gloomy enough without it, that a voice spoke192 loudly among the guests, the tones of which were like those of old Matthew Maule, the executed wizard —“God hath given him blood to drink!”
Thus early had that one guest — the only guest who is certain, at one time or another, to find his way into every human dwelling193 — thus early had Death stepped across the threshold of the House of the Seven Gables!
Colonel Pyncheon’s sudden and mysterious end made a vast deal of noise in its day. There were many rumors194, some of which have vaguely195 drifted down to the present time, how that appearances indicated violence; that there were the marks of fingers on his throat, and the print of a bloody196 hand on his plaited ruff; and that his peaked beard was dishevelled, as if it had been fiercely clutched and pulled. It was averred197, likewise, that the lattice window, near the Colonel’s chair, was open; and that, only a few minutes before the fatal occurrence, the figure of a man had been seen clambering over the garden fence, in the rear of the house. But it were folly198 to lay any stress on stories of this kind, which are sure to spring up around such an event as that now related, and which, as in the present case, sometimes prolong themselves for ages afterwards, like the toadstools that indicate where the fallen and buried trunk of a tree has long since mouldered199 into the earth. For our own part, we allow them just as little credence200 as to that other fable201 of the skeleton hand which the lieutenant-governor was said to have seen at the Colonel’s throat, but which vanished away, as he advanced farther into the room. Certain it is, however, that there was a great consultation202 and dispute of doctors over the dead body. One — John Swinnerton by name — who appears to have been a man of eminence203, upheld it, if we have rightly understood his terms of art, to be a case of apoplexy. His professional brethren, each for himself, adopted various hypotheses, more or less plausible, but all dressed out in a perplexing mystery of phrase, which, if it do not show a bewilderment of mind in these erudite physicians, certainly causes it in the unlearned peruser204 of their opinions. The coroner’s jury sat upon the corpse205, and, like sensible men, returned an unassailable verdict of “Sudden Death!”
It is indeed difficult to imagine that there could have been a serious suspicion of murder, or the slightest grounds for implicating206 any particular individual as the perpetrator. The rank, wealth, and eminent character of the deceased must have insured the strictest scrutiny207 into every ambiguous circumstance. As none such is on record, it is safe to assume that none existed Tradition — which sometimes brings down truth that history has let slip, but is oftener the wild babble208 of the time, such as was formerly spoken at the fireside and now congeals209 in newspapers — tradition is responsible for all contrary averments. In Colonel Pyncheon’s funeral sermon, which was printed, and is still extant, the Rev. Mr. Higginson enumerates210, among the many felicities of his distinguished211 parishioner’s earthly career, the happy seasonableness of his death. His duties all performed — the highest prosperity attained212 — his race and future generations fixed138 on a stable basis, and with a stately roof to shelter them for centuries to come — what other upward step remained for this good man to take, save the final step from earth to the golden gate of heaven! The pious118 clergyman surely would not have uttered words like these had he in the least suspected that the Colonel had been thrust into the other world with the clutch of violence upon his throat.
The family of Colonel Pyncheon, at the epoch of his death, seemed destined to as fortunate a permanence as can anywise consist with the inherent instability of human affairs. It might fairly be anticipated that the progress of time would rather increase and ripen213 their prosperity, than wear away and destroy it. For, not only had his son and heir come into immediate214 enjoyment215 of a rich estate, but there was a claim through an Indian deed, confirmed by a subsequent grant of the General Court, to a vast and as yet unexplored and unmeasured tract of Eastern lands. These possessions — for as such they might almost certainly be reckoned — comprised the greater part of what is now known as Waldo County, in the state of Maine, and were more extensive than many a dukedom, or even a reigning216 prince’s territory, on European soil. When the pathless forest that still covered this wild principality should give place — as it inevitably must, though perhaps not till ages hence — to the golden fertility of human culture, it would be the source of incalculable wealth to the Pyncheon blood. Had the Colonel survived only a few weeks longer, it is probable that his great political influence, and powerful connections at home and abroad, would have consummated217 all that was necessary to render the claim available. But, in spite of good Mr. Higginson’s congratulatory eloquence218, this appeared to be the one thing which Colonel Pyncheon, provident219 and sagacious as he was, had allowed to go at loose ends. So far as the prospective220 territory was concerned, he unquestionably died too soon. His son lacked not merely the father’s eminent position, but the talent and force of character to achieve it: he could, therefore, effect nothing by dint222 of political interest; and the bare justice or legality of the claim was not so apparent, after the Colonel’s decease, as it had been pronounced in his lifetime. Some connecting link had slipped out of the evidence, and could not anywhere be found.
Efforts, it is true, were made by the Pyncheons, not only then, but at various periods for nearly a hundred years afterwards, to obtain what they stubbornly persisted in deeming their right. But, in course of time, the territory was partly regranted to more favored individuals, and partly cleared and occupied by actual settlers. These last, if they ever heard of the Pyncheon title, would have laughed at the idea of any man’s asserting a right — on the strength of mouldy parchments, signed with the faded autographs of governors and legislators long dead and forgotten — to the lands which they or their fathers had wrested from the wild hand of nature by their own sturdy toil. This impalpable claim, therefore, resulted in nothing more solid than to cherish, from generation to generation, an absurd delusion of family importance, which all along characterized the Pyncheons. It caused the poorest member of the race to feel as if he inherited a kind of nobility, and might yet come into the possession of princely wealth to support it. In the better specimens223 of the breed, this peculiarity224 threw an ideal grace over the hard material of human life, without stealing away any truly valuable quality. In the baser sort, its effect was to increase the liability to sluggishness and dependence225, and induce the victim of a shadowy hope to remit226 all self-effort, while awaiting the realization227 of his dreams. Years and years after their claim had passed out of the public memory, the Pyncheons were accustomed to consult the Colonel’s ancient map, which had been projected while Waldo County was still an unbroken wilderness228. Where the old land surveyor had put down woods, lakes, and rivers, they marked out the cleared spaces, and dotted the villages and towns, and calculated the progressively increasing value of the territory, as if there were yet a prospect221 of its ultimately forming a princedom for themselves.
In almost every generation, nevertheless, there happened to be some one descendant of the family gifted with a portion of the hard, keen sense, and practical energy, that had so remarkably229 distinguished the original founder. His character, indeed, might be traced all the way down, as distinctly as if the Colonel himself, a little diluted230, had been gifted with a sort of intermittent231 immortality232 on earth. At two or three epochs, when the fortunes of the family were low, this representative of hereditary233 qualities had made his appearance, and caused the traditionary gossips of the town to whisper among themselves, “Here is the old Pyncheon come again! Now the Seven Gables will be new-shingled!” From father to son, they clung to the ancestral house with singular tenacity234 of home attachment235. For various reasons, however, and from impressions often too vaguely founded to be put on paper, the writer cherishes the belief that many, if not most, of the successive proprietors46 of this estate were troubled with doubts as to their moral right to hold it. Of their legal tenure236 there could be no question; but old Matthew Maule, it is to be feared, trode downward from his own age to a far later one, planting a heavy footstep, all the way, on the conscience of a Pyncheon. If so, we are left to dispose of the awful query237, whether each inheritor of the property-conscious of wrong, and failing to rectify238 it — did not commit anew the great guilt239 of his ancestor, and incur240 all its original responsibilities. And supposing such to be the case, would it not be a far truer mode of expression to say of the Pyncheon family, that they inherited a great misfortune, than the reverse?
We have already hinted that it is not our purpose to trace down the history of the Pyncheon family, in its unbroken connection with the House of the Seven Gables; nor to show, as in a magic picture, how the rustiness241 and infirmity of age gathered over the venerable house itself. As regards its interior life, a large, dim looking-glass used to hang in one of the rooms, and was fabled242 to contain within its depths all the shapes that had ever been reflected there — the old Colonel himself, and his many descendants, some in the garb243 of antique babyhood, and others in the bloom of feminine beauty or manly244 prime, or saddened with the wrinkles of frosty age. Had we the secret of that mirror, we would gladly sit down before it, and transfer its revelations to our page. But there was a story, for which it is difficult to conceive any foundation, that the posterity of Matthew Maule had some connection with the mystery of the looking-glass, and that, by what appears to have been a sort of mesmeric process, they could make its inner region all alive with the departed Pyncheons; not as they had shown themselves to the world, nor in their better and happier hours, but as doing over again some deed of sin, or in the crisis of life’s bitterest sorrow. The popular imagination, indeed, long kept itself busy with the affair of the old Puritan Pyncheon and the wizard Maule; the curse which the latter flung from his scaffold was remembered, with the very important addition, that it had become a part of the Pyncheon inheritance. If one of the family did but gurgle in his throat, a bystander would be likely enough to whisper, between jest and earnest,“He has Maule’s blood to drink!” The sudden death of a Pyncheon, about a hundred years ago, with circumstances very similar to what have been related of the Colonel’s exit, was held as giving additional probability to the received opinion on this topic. It was considered, moreover, an ugly and ominous circumstance, that Colonel Pyncheon’s picture — in obedience, it was said, to a provision of his will — remained affixed to the wall of the room in which he died. Those stern, immitigable features seemed to symbolize245 an evil influence, and so darkly to mingle246 the shadow of their presence with the sunshine of the passing hour, that no good thoughts or purposes could ever spring up and blossom there. To the thoughtful mind there will be no tinge of superstition247 in what we figuratively express, by affirming that the ghost of a dead progenitor248 — perhaps as a portion of his own punishment — is often doomed250 to become the Evil Genius of his family.
The Pyncheons, in brief, lived along, for the better part of two centuries, with perhaps less of outward vicissitude12 than has attended most other New England families during the same period of time. Possessing very distinctive251 traits of their own, they nevertheless took the general characteristics of the little community in which they dwelt; a town noted for its frugal252, discreet253, well-ordered, and home-loving inhabitants, as well as for the somewhat confined scope of its sympathies; but in which, be it said, there are odder individuals, and, now and then, stranger occurrences, than one meets with almost anywhere else. During the Revolution, the Pyncheon of that epoch, adopting the royal side, became a refugee; but repented254, and made his reappearance, just at the point of time to preserve the House of the Seven Gables from confiscation255. For the last seventy years the most noted event in the Pyncheon annals had been likewise the heaviest calamity256 that ever befell the race; no less than the violent death — for so it was adjudged — of one member of the family by the criminal act of another. Certain circumstances attending this fatal occurrence had brought the deed irresistibly257 home to a nephew of the deceased Pyncheon. The young man was tried and convicted of the crime; but either the circumstantial nature of the evidence, and possibly some lurking258 doubts in the breast of the executive, or” lastly — an argument of greater weight in a republic than it could have been under a monarchy259 — the high respectability and political influence of the criminal’s connections, had availed to mitigate260 his doom249 from death to perpetual imprisonment261. This sad affair had chanced about thirty years before the action of our story commences. Latterly, there were rumors (which few believed, and only one or two felt greatly interested in) that this long-buried man was likely, for some reason or other, to be summoned forth from his living tomb.
It is essential to say a few words respecting the victim of this now almost forgotten murder. He was an old bachelor, and possessed262 of great wealth, in addition to the house and real estate which constituted what remained of the ancient Pyncheon property. Being of an eccentric and melancholy turn of mind, and greatly given to rummaging263 old records and hearkening to old traditions, he had brought himself, it is averred, to the conclusion that Matthew Maule, the wizard, had been foully264 wronged out of his homestead, if not out of his life. Such being the case, and he, the old bachelor, in possession of the ill-gotten spoil — with the black stain of blood sunken deep into it, and still to be scented265 by conscientious266 nostrils — the question occurred, whether it were not imperative upon him, even at this late hour, to make restitution267 to Maule’s posterity. To a man living so much in the past, and so little in the present, as the secluded268 and antiquarian old bachelor, a century and a half seemed not so vast a period as to obviate269 the propriety270 of substituting right for wrong. It was the belief of those who knew him best, that he would positively271 have taken the very singular step of giving up the House of the Seven Gables to the representative of Matthew Maule, but for the unspeakable tumult272 which a suspicion of the old gentleman’s project awakened among his Pyncheon relatives. Their exertions273 had the effect of suspending his purpose; but it was feared that he would perform, after death, by the operation of his last will, what he had so hardly been prevented from doing in his proper lifetime. But there is no one thing which men so rarely do, whatever the provocation274 or inducement, as to bequeath patrimonial275 property away from their own blood. They may love other individuals far better than their relatives — they may even cherish dislike, or positive hatred276, to the latter; but yet, in view of death, the strong prejudice of propinquity revives, and impels277 the testator to send down his estate in the line marked out by custom so immemorial that it looks like nature. In all the Pyncheons, this feeling had the energy of disease. It was too powerful for the conscientious scruples278 of the old bachelor; at whose death, accordingly, the mansion-house, together with most of his other riches, passed into the possession of his next legal representative.
This was a nephew, the cousin of the miserable279 young man who had been convicted of the uncle’s murder. The new heir, up to the period of his accession, was reckoned rather a dissipated youth, but had at once reformed, and made himself an exceedingly respectable member of society. In fact, he showed more of the Pyncheon quality, and had won higher eminence in the world, than any of his race since the time of the original Puritan. Applying himself in earlier manhood to the study of the law, and having a natural tendency towards office, he had attained, many years ago, to a judicial situation in some inferior court, which gave him for life the very desirable and imposing title of judge. Later, he had engaged in politics, and served a part of two terms in Congress, besides making a considerable figure in both branches of the State legislature. Judge Pyncheon was unquestionably an honor to his race. He had built himself a country-seat within a few miles of his native town, and there spent such portions of his time as could be spared from public service in the display of every grace and virtue280 — as a newspaper phrased it, on the eve of an election — befitting the Christian281, the good citizen, the horticulturist, and the gentleman.
There were few of the Pyncheons left to sun themselves in the glow of the Judge’s prosperity. In respect to natural increase, the breed had not thriven; it appeared rather to be dying out. The only members of the family known to be extant were, first, the Judge himself, and a single surviving son, who was now travelling in Europe; next, the thirty years’ prisoner, already alluded282 to, and a sister of the latter, who occupied, in an extremely retired283 manner, the House of the Seven Gables, in which she had a life-estate by the will of the old bachelor. She was understood to be wretchedly poor, and seemed to make it her choice to remain so; inasmuch as her affluent284 cousin, the Judge, had repeatedly offered her all the comforts of life, either in the old mansion or his own modern residence. The last and youngest Pyncheon was a little country-girl of seventeen, the daughter of another of the Judge’s cousins, who had married a young woman of no family or property, and died early and in poor circumstances. His widow had recently taken another husband.
As for Matthew Maule’s posterity, it was supposed now to be extinct. For a very long period after the witchcraft delusion, however, the Maules had continued to inhabit the town where their progenitor had suffered so unjust a death. To all appearance, they were a quiet, honest, well-meaning race of people, cherishing no malice285 against individuals or the public for the wrong which had been done them; or if, at their own fireside, they transmitted from father to child any hostile recollection of the wizard’s fate and their lost patrimony286, it was never acted upon, nor openly expressed. Nor would it have been singular had they ceased to remember that the House of the Seven Gables was resting its heavy framework on a foundation that was rightfully their own. There is something so massive, stable, and almost irresistibly imposing in the exterior presentment of established rank and great possessions, that their very existence seems to give them a right to exist; at least, so excellent a counterfeit287 of right, that few poor and humble men have moral force enough to question it, even in their secret minds. Such is the case now, after so many ancient prejudices have been overthrown288; and it was far more so in ante–Revolutionary days, when the aristocracy could venture to be proud, and the low were content to be abased289. Thus the Maules, at all events, kept their resentments290 within their own breasts. They were generally poverty-stricken; always plebeian and obscure; working with unsuccessful diligence at handicrafts; laboring291 on the wharves292, or following the sea, as sailors before the mast; living here and there about the town, in hired tenements293, and coming finally to the almshouse as the natural home of their old age. At last, after creeping, as it were, for such a length of time along the utmost verge294 of the opaque295 puddle296 of obscurity, they had taken that downright plunge297 which, sooner or later, is the destiny of all families, whether princely or plebeian. For thirty years past, neither town-record, nor gravestone, nor the directory, nor the knowledge or memory of man, bore any trace of Matthew Maule’s descendants. His blood might possibly exist elsewhere; here, where its lowly current could be traced so far back, it had ceased to keep an onward298 course.
So long as any of the race were to be found, they had been marked out from other men — not strikingly, nor as with a sharp line, but with an effect that was felt rather than spoken of — by an hereditary character of reserve. Their companions, or those who endeavored to become such, grew conscious of a circle round about the Maules, within the sanctity or the spell of which, in spite of an exterior of sufficient frankness and good-fellowship, it was impossible for any man to step. It was this indefinable peculiarity, perhaps, that, by insulating them from human aid, kept them always so unfortunate in life. It certainly operated to prolong in their case, and to confirm to them as their only inheritance, those feelings of repugnance299 and superstitious terror with which the people of the town, even after awakening from their frenzy, continued to regard the memory of the reputed witches. The mantle300, or rather the ragged301 cloak, of old Matthew Maule had fallen upon his children. They were half believed to inherit mysterious attributes; the family eye was said to possess strange power. Among other good-for-nothing properties and privileges, one was especially assigned them — that of exercising an influence over people’s dreams. The Pyncheons, if all stories were true, haughtily302 as they bore themselves in the noonday streets of their native town, were no better than bond-servants to these plebeian Maules, on entering the topsy-turvy commonwealth303 of sleep. Modern psychology304, it may be, will endeavor to reduce these alleged305 necromancies within a system, instead of rejecting them as altogether fabulous306.
A descriptive paragraph or two, treating of the seven-gabled mansion in its more recent aspect, will bring this preliminary chapter to a close. The street in which it upreared its venerable peaks has long ceased to be a fashionable quarter of the town; so that, though the old edifice was surrounded by habitations of modern date, they were mostly small, built entirely of wood, and typical of the most plodding uniformity of common life. Doubtless, however, the whole story of human existence may be latent in each of them, but with no picturesqueness308, externally, that can attract the imagination or sympathy to seek it there. But as for the old structure of our story, its white-oak frame, and its boards, shingles, and crumbling309 plaster, and even the huge, clustered chimney in the midst, seemed to constitute only the least and meanest part of its reality. So much of mankind’s varied310 experience had passed there — so much had been suffered, and something, too, enjoyed — that the very timbers were oozy311, as with the moisture of a heart. It was itself like a great human heart, with a life of its own, and full of rich and sombre reminiscences.
The deep projection312 of the second story gave the house such a meditative313 look, that you could not pass it without the idea that it had secrets to keep, and an eventful history to moralize upon. In front, just on the edge of the unpaved sidewalk, grew the Pyncheon Elm, which, in reference to such trees as one usually meets with, might well be termed gigantic. It had been planted by a great-grandson of the first Pyncheon, and, though now fourscore years of age, or perhaps nearer a hundred, was still in its strong and broad maturity314, throwing its shadow from side to side of the street, overtopping the seven gables, and sweeping315 the whole black roof with its pendant foliage316. It gave beauty to the old edifice, and seemed to make it a part of nature. The street having been widened about forty years ago, the front gable was now precisely on a line with it. On either side extended a ruinous wooden fence of open lattice-work, through which could be seen a grassy317 yard, and, especially in the angles of the building, an enormous fertility of burdocks, with leaves, it is hardly an exaggeration to say, two or three feet long. Behind the house there appeared to be a garden, which undoubtedly318 had once been extensive, but was now infringed319 upon by other enclosures, or shut in by habitations and outbuildings that stood on another street. It would be an omission320, trifling321, indeed, but unpardonable, were we to forget the green moss28 that had long since gathered over the projections322 of the windows, and on the slopes of the roof nor must we fail to direct the reader’s eye to a crop, not of weeds, but flower-shrubs, which were growing aloft in the air, not a great way from the chimney, in the nook between two of the gables. They were called Alice’s Posies. The tradition was, that a certain Alice Pyncheon had flung up the seeds, in sport, and that the dust of the street and the decay of the roof gradually formed a kind of soil for them, out of which they grew, when Alice had long been in her grave. However the flowers might have come there, it was both sad and sweet to observe how Nature adopted to herself this desolate323, decaying, gusty324, rusty old house of the Pyncheon family; and how the even-returning summer did her best to gladden it with tender beauty, and grew melancholy in the effort.
There is one other feature, very essential to be noticed, but which, we greatly fear, may damage any picturesque307 and romantic impression which we have been willing to throw over our sketch of this respectable edifice. In the front gable, under the impending325 brow of the second story, and contiguous to the street, was a shop-door, divided horizontally in the midst, and with a window for its upper segment, such as is often seen in dwellings326 of a somewhat ancient date. This same shop-door had been a subject of No slight mortification327 to the present occupant of the august Pyncheon House, as well as to some of her predecessors328. The matter is disagreeably delicate to handle; but, since the reader must needs be let into the secret, he will please to understand, that, about a century ago, the head of the Pyncheons found himself involved in serious financial difficulties. The fellow (gentleman, as he styled himself) can hardly have been other than a spurious interloper; for, instead of seeking office from the king or the royal governor, or urging his hereditary claim to Eastern lands, he bethought himself of no better avenue to wealth than by cutting a shop-door through the side of his ancestral residence. It was the custom of the time, indeed, for merchants to store their goods and transact329 business in their own dwellings. But there was something pitifully small in this old Pyncheon’s mode of setting about his commercial operations; it was whispered, that, with his own hands, all beruffled as they were, he used to give change for a shilling, and would turn a half-penny twice over, to make sure that it was a good one. Beyond all question, he had the blood of a petty huckster in his veins330, through whatever channel it may have found its way there.
Immediately on his death, the shop-door had been locked, bolted, and barred, and, down to the period of our story, had probably never once been opened. The old counter, shelves, and other fixtures331 of the little shop remained just as he had left them. It used to be affirmed, that the dead shop-keeper, in a white wig179, a faded velvet coat, an apron332 at his waist, and his ruffles333 carefully turned back from his wrists, might be seen through the chinks of the shutters334, any night of the year, ransacking335 his till, or poring over the dingy336 pages of his day-book. From the look of unutterable woe337 upon his face, it appeared to be his doom to spend eternity338 in a vain effort to make his accounts balance.
And now — in a very humble way, as will be seen — we proceed to open our narrative.
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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antiquities
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| n.古老( antiquity的名词复数 )；古迹；古人们；古代的风俗习惯 | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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vicissitude
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| n.变化，变迁，荣枯，盛衰 | |
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vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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worthily
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| 重要地，可敬地，正当地 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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amplitude
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| n.广大；充足；振幅 | |
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prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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expediency
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| n.适宜；方便；合算；利己 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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acorns
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| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
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posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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metes
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| v.（对某人）施以，给予（处罚等）( mete的第三人称单数 ) | |
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controversy
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| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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antagonists
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| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
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laud
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| n.颂歌；v.赞美 | |
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dweller
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| n.居住者，住客 | |
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obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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witchcraft
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| n.魔法，巫术 | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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62
influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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63
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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64
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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65
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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66
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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67
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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68
persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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69
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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70
judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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71
massacres
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| 大屠杀( massacre的名词复数 )； 惨败 | |
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72
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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73
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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74
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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75
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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76
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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77
purge
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|
| n.整肃，清除，泻药，净化；vt.净化，清除，摆脱；vi.清除，通便，腹泻，变得清洁 | |
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78
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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79
condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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80
persecutor
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| n. 迫害者 | |
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81
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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82
ponderously
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83
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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84
sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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85
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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86
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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87
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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88
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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89
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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90
magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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91
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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92
specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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93
commonsense
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| adj.有常识的；明白事理的；注重实际的 | |
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94
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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95
rigidity
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| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
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96
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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97
scrupulousness
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| n.一丝不苟；小心翼翼 | |
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98
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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99
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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100
pristine
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| adj.原来的，古时的，原始的，纯净的，无垢的 | |
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101
lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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102
brackish
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| adj.混有盐的；咸的 | |
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103
certify
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| vt.证明，证实；发证书(或执照)给 | |
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104
intestinal
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| adj.肠的；肠壁；肠道细菌 | |
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105
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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106
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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107
wrested
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|
| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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108
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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109
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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111
specimen
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|
| n.样本，标本 | |
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112
feudal
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| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
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113
consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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114
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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115
discourse
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|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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116
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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117
copious
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|
| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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118
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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119
aver
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| v.极力声明；断言；确证 | |
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120
joints
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|
| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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121
belching
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| n. 喷出，打嗝 动词belch的现在分词形式 | |
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122
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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123
fowls
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|
| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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124
spicily
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|
| adv.香地；讽刺地；痛快地；下流地 | |
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125
concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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126
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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127
thronged
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|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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128
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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129
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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130
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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131
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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132
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
grotesqueness
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134
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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135
edifices
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|
| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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136
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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137
affixed
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|
| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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138
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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139
jutting
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|
| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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140
triangular
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|
| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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141
destined
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|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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142
scattered
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|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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143
shingles
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|
| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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144
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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145
magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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146
thither
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|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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147
plebeian
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|
| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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148
ushering
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的现在分词 ) | |
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149
hospitable
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|
| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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150
scrutinizing
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|
| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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151
velvet
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|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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152
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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153
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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154
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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155
laborer
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| n.劳动者，劳工 | |
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156
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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157
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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158
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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159
punctilious
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|
| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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160
Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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161
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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162
demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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163
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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164
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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165
sluggishness
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| 不振，萧条，呆滞；惰性；滞性；惯性 | |
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166
perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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167
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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168
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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169
broach
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| v.开瓶，提出(题目) | |
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170
choleric
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| adj.易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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171
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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172
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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173
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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174
intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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175
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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176
outermost
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|
| adj.最外面的，远离中心的 | |
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177
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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178
wigs
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| n.假发，法官帽( wig的名词复数 ) | |
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179
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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180
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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181
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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182
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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183
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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184
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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185
fixedness
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| n.固定；稳定；稳固 | |
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186
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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187
saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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188
relentless
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|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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189
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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190
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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191
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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192
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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193
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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194
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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195
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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196
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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197
averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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198
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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199
mouldered
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| v.腐朽( moulder的过去式和过去分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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200
credence
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| n.信用，祭器台，供桌，凭证 | |
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201
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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202
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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203
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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204
peruser
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| 精细阅读者 | |
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205
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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206
implicating
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| vt.牵涉，涉及（implicate的现在分词形式） | |
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207
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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208
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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209
congeals
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的第三人称单数 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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210
enumerates
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| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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211
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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212
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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213
ripen
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| vt.使成熟；vi.成熟 | |
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214
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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215
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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216
reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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217
consummated
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| v.使结束( consummate的过去式和过去分词 )；使完美；完婚；（婚礼后的）圆房 | |
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218
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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219
provident
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| adj.为将来做准备的，有先见之明的 | |
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220
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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221
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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222
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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223
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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224
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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225
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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226
remit
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| v.汇款，汇寄；豁免（债务），免除（处罚等） | |
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227
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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228
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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229
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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230
diluted
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| 无力的，冲淡的 | |
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231
intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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232
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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233
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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234
tenacity
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| n.坚韧 | |
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235
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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236
tenure
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| n.终身职位；任期；(土地)保有权，保有期 | |
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237
query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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238
rectify
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| v.订正，矫正，改正 | |
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239
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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240
incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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241
rustiness
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| 生锈，声音沙哑； 荒疏； 锈蚀 | |
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242
fabled
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| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
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243
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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244
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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245
symbolize
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| vt.作为...的象征，用符号代表 | |
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246
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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247
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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248
progenitor
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| n.祖先，先驱 | |
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249
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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250
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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251
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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252
frugal
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| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
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253
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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254
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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255
confiscation
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| n. 没收, 充公, 征收 | |
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256
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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257
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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258
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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259
monarchy
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| n.君主，最高统治者；君主政体，君主国 | |
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260
mitigate
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| vt.（使）减轻，（使）缓和 | |
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261
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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262
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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263
rummaging
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的现在分词 )； 海关检查 | |
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264
foully
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| ad.卑鄙地 | |
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265
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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266
conscientious
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|
| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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267
restitution
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| n.赔偿；恢复原状 | |
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268
secluded
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|
| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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269
obviate
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| v.除去，排除，避免，预防 | |
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270
propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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271
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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272
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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273
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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274
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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275
patrimonial
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| adj.祖传的 | |
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276
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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277
impels
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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278
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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279
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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280
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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281
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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282
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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283
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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284
affluent
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| adj.富裕的，富有的，丰富的，富饶的 | |
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285
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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286
patrimony
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| n.世袭财产，继承物 | |
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287
counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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288
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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289
abased
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| 使谦卑( abase的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到羞耻； 使降低（地位、身份等）； 降下 | |
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290
resentments
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| （因受虐待而）愤恨，不满，怨恨( resentment的名词复数 ) | |
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291
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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292
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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293
tenements
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| n.房屋，住户，租房子( tenement的名词复数 ) | |
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294
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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295
opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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296
puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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297
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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298
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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299
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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300
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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301
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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302
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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303
commonwealth
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| n.共和国，联邦，共同体 | |
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304
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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305
alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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306
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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307
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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308
picturesqueness
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309
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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310
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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311
oozy
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| adj.软泥的 | |
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312
projection
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| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
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313
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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314
maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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315
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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316
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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317
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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318
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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319
infringed
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| v.违反（规章等）( infringe的过去式和过去分词 )；侵犯（某人的权利）；侵害（某人的自由、权益等） | |
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320
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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321
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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322
projections
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| 预测( projection的名词复数 )； 投影； 投掷； 突起物 | |
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323
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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324
gusty
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| adj.起大风的 | |
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325
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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326
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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327
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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328
predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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329
transact
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| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
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330
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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331
fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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332
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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333
ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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334
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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335
ransacking
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的现在分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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336
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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337
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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338
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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