Isopel Berners: The History of certain doings in a Staffordshire Dingle, July, 1825 — John Shaqi
Isopel Berners: The History of certain doings in a Staffordshire Dingle, July, 1825Borrow, George
General
Isopel Berners: The History of certain doings in a Staffordshire Dingle, July, 1825
Borrow, George
England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
Heaviness had suddenly come over me, heaviness of heart, and of body
also. I had accomplished the task which I had imposed upon myself, and
now that nothing more remained to do, my energies suddenly deserted me,
and I felt without strength and without hope. Several causes, perhaps,
co-operated to bring about the state in which I then felt myself. It is
not improbable that my energies had been overstrained during the work,
the progress of which I have attempted to describe; and everyone is aware
that the results of overstrained energies are feebleness and
lassitude--want of nourishment might likewise have something to do with
it. During my sojourn in the dingle, my food had been of the simplest
and most unsatisfying description, by no means calculated to support the
exertion which the labour I had been engaged upon required; it had
consisted of coarse oaten cakes and hard cheese, and for beverage I had
been indebted to a neighbouring pit, in which, in the heat of the day, I
frequently saw, not golden or silver fish, but frogs and eftes swimming
about. I am, however, inclined to believe that Mrs. Herne's cake had
quite as much to do with the matter as insufficient nourishment. I had
never entirely recovered from the effects of its poison, but had
occasionally, especially at night, been visited by a grinding pain in the
stomach, and my whole body had been suffused with cold sweat; and indeed
these memorials of the drow {71} have never entirely disappeared--even at
the present time they display themselves in my system, especially after
much fatigue of body and excitement of mind. So there I sat in the
dingle upon my stone, nerveless and hopeless, by whatever cause or causes
that state had been produced--there I sat with my head leaning upon my
hand, and so I continued a long, long time. At last I lifted my head
from my hand, and began to cast anxious, unquiet looks about the
dingle--the entire hollow was now enveloped in deep shade--I cast my eyes
up; there was a golden gleam on the tops of the trees which grew towards
the upper parts of the dingle; but lower down, all was gloom and
twilight--yet, when I first sat down on my stone, the sun was right above
the dingle, illuminating all its depths by the rays which it cast
perpendicularly down--so I must have sat a long, long time upon my stone.
And now, once more, I rested my head upon my hand, but almost instantly
lifted it again in a kind of fear, and began looking at the objects
before me--the forge, the tools, the branches of the trees, endeavouring
to follow their rows, till they were lost in the darkness of the dingle.
And now I found my right hand grasping convulsively three forefingers of
the left, first collectively, and then successively, wringing them till
the joints cracked; then I became quiet, but not for long.
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