Part 1

FLAXIUS

LEAVES FROM THE LIFE OF AN IMMORTAL

[Illustration]

CHARLES GODFREY LELAND

AUTHOR OF ‘THE BREITMANN BALLADS,’ ETC.

LONDON

PHILIP WELLBY

6 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN

1902

Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, (late) Printers to Her Majesty

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

FLAXIUS AND THE FAIRY

FLAXIUS AND THE GOD

FLAXIUS AND ROOSEVELDT

FLAXIUS AND HAMLET

HOW FLAXIUS MADE THE FORTUNE OF EADWARD THE GRANDSON OF AEOLFRIC

FLAXIUS AND ASMODEUS

FLAXIUS IN FLORENCE

FLAXIUS AND THE EMPEROR JULIAN

FLAXIUS IN HADES

FLAXIUS AND ADELINDÈ

FLAXIUS AND THE WERE-WOLF

FLAXIUS AND BREITMANN

FLAXIUS IN INDIA

THE WONDERFUL STORY OF MISS JESABELLE ROCKHARD

HOW FLAXIUS SAT AS JUDGE WITH A JURY OF TWELVE DEVILS

FLAXIUS AND THE BOOKSELLER

FLAXIUS IN THE FUTURE

THE EVANISHMENT OF FLAXIUS

BREITMANN’S LAST BALLAD

FIRST WORDS

THE _raison d’être_, cause for existence, and origin of this book, may be found in the following extract from a review of the _Florentine Legends_, which appeared in the _Daily Chronicle_ of June 19, 1895:--

‘Mr. Leland frequently refers throughout his narratives to a certain Flaxius. We were somewhat puzzled as to whom this Flaxius might be, until we came across the statement that the author had once begun a book entitled, _The Experiences of Flaxius the Immortal_. The reflections of the Immortal are quoted extensively in this volume, and we can only say we wish the Flaxius project a happy ending, and would not be surprised if the new sage, racy of Italian soil, as he appears to be, should even a little eclipse Mr. Leland’s old hero of Lager beer celebrity.’

For which kind word all thanks, and from the heart, since it suggested what had never been seriously thought of; for, in truth, the experiences had no more been written than the books which appear in the catalogue of the library given in the _Chronicle_ of Pantagruel. Now, I have had all my life a strange love for works on varied subjects, in unity of style, even as in Mendelssohn’s _Songs without Words_ there are many melodies forming one work. Such were the best sketches of Irving, and such was my first original venture, _Meister Karl’s Sketch-Book_, which had the remarkable fortune to attract, most unexpectedly, a very kind letter on it from Washington Irving, and subsequently another of seven large closely written pages, critical and laudatory, from Lord Bulwer Lytton, the novelist, who, with all modesty be it said, took several palpable hints from it for his _Kenelm Chillingly_, into which he introduced me under a pseudonym, as a small _memento_. And it is in this style that the present work is composed of different stories, which, however, make one _parure_, or, changing the metaphor, of varied dishes in one dinner met.

I beg the reader to pardon this fond disquisition, but it is natural for an author to think fondly of his first work, as it is for a mother to do the same by her first-born; and I was the more influenced to do so by its having been in the same _genre_ as the present volume.

The comparison, made by the reviewer of the _Chronicle_, between the warrior-bard Hans Breitmann and his possible rival Flaxius, suggested the idea of making the two meet in this volume, the result of which encounter is two Breitmann ballads, never before published, with others which had indeed appeared casually in another form, but not as yet in any edition of the poems, and which will be assuredly new to most of my readers. And as these later lays--of which I have only given a specimen--all turn on marvellous mediæval legends of magic, I will mention, by way of _avant-courier_, that I have in manuscript, and have been writing or revising this thirty years, a curious collection of _Ballads of Witchcraft and Songs of Sorcery_, which I cannot but think would greatly please all lovers of _occulta_, and which will be published should sign be given that it would be wanted by the public.

I would end by recording that this work is most kindly and cordially dedicated to certain friends who have greatly aided me at different times in collecting Italian folk-lore, that is to say, to Miss Roma Lister, who was from the first specially interested in Flaxius, and to Mrs. Tessa Arbuthnot; whereunto I might add the names of all who have for many years and in many ways shown friendship and cordial kindness--of late in sad trials by illness--to whom be all thanks.

CHARLES GODFREY LELAND.

FLORENCE, _June 1902_.

FLAXIUS AND THE FAIRY

OR, HOW HE BECAME AN IMMORTAL

‘This work is a collection of Fables.’--_Sir Roger Lestrange._

‘There is no expression of politeness but has its root in the moral nature of man.’--_Goethe._

‘There is no policy like politeness, and a good manner is the best thing in the world, either to get a good name or to supply the want of it.’--_Bulwer Lytton._

‘Politeness is like Generosity; nay, I am not sure that it is not Generosity itself. But neither deserves respect unless perfectly innate--unaffected and natural.’--_L’Accademia._

LONG ago, when Time was in its early dawn--_à prima pueritia_, or in its pink infancy--Flaxius the Neophyte was also in his youth; for which reason he and the world got on very well together. He was far from having attained to high magic, though of an eminently respectable old priestly-sorcering family, and of fairy descent, but he had in him those qualities which in any age advance the man who gets a fair trial. And that we may the better understand what these qualities were, I will narrate the first bud of incident, or rosy adventure, by which it befell that he too rose in life.

It happened one day that on the annual holiday or festival of Volterra, in the first Etruscan age, lied about by Inghirami, Flaxius saw in the street, among the many in the middle distance, a girl who was, _à prima vista_, evidently not respectable, or was rather so far from it that it might not have been said, _habet pudicitiam in propatulo_. Yet there was nothing arrogantly offensive in the poor thing; she seemed to be of that kind whose whole life, like the donkey’s, is a sad, mute speech to the effect: ‘If you don’t care for me--and I’m not astonished that you don’t--then don’t speak to me, but pray do not abuse me, for I can’t help it--indeed I can’t.’

This silent-violet eloquence was, however, lost on a group of two or three rude young men and girls who came howling along in high, red-poppy spirits, and who, seeing the poor forlorn creature, proceeded to hoot her in the manner peculiar to the virtuous vulgar of all ages, by hurling at her terms intended to make her feel deeply that she was indeed that which her sad attire proclaimed her to be.

‘And out of the way of your betters, O Dirt, and into the dirt!’ cried a youth, giving a bump to the Moral Calamity, which sent her reeling, so that she indeed fell in the mud of the street, at which all roared with laughter.

Now in all the country round there was not a taller or more robust bull of a young man than Flaxius, and seeing this, he gave the Guardian or Vindicator of Morals and Holy Virtue a blow which levelled him likewise in the grey dirt, and with as little difficulty sent the rest flying; for there was that in his patrician appearance, quite as much as in his iron strength, which inspired fear. He picked up the girl, bade her be of good cheer, and not mind what had happened; there was something marvellously moving and honey-comforting in his tone of voice, which snatched a grace beyond the reach of skill.

It is an art little known now to the world, that of the voice trained to woo and win feeling, to inspire awe and emotion by musical tone--but it formed a part of cultured magic in early times, and Flaxius was at the head of the class in Enchanting natural elocution and Musical morality.

... And furthermore bestowed on her a silver coin, and was about to depart, when the girl astonished him by saying, in tones as marked and deeply magical as his own:

‘Why did you pity me?’

Flaxius replied, ‘Because you, doing no one injustice, were unjustly treated.’

‘Do you not see what I am?’

‘I see nothing beyond what I behold in all human beings, one cast by fate or chance into a certain life. And few indeed are what they fain would be.’

‘Then you despise no one?’

‘I very deeply despise all who make no effort to know or do what is _better_. I despise all who can only--I say _only_--realise their own dignity in the abasement of others. I despise the man who requires to own slaves in order to know that he is free.... I feel....’

‘There are not many who feel as you do,’ replied the girl. And this time in the voice Flaxius recognised that he was indeed speaking to a _magia_, or one of the initiated in high wisdom. Therefore he was not astonished to see in her eyes a strange and as yet unperceived expression of marvellous intellect and electric beauty, and note a divine dignity and grace in her carriage. She signed to him to follow her, and he obeyed.

‘No, there are yet few,’ he answered, ‘but there will ever be more and more in the ages to come. I would that I could live to see the time when all slavery and social injustice will disappear. But will it ever be?’

‘Who knows,’ replied his companion. ‘Who knows how long we may live, or how bad or good the world may become, or anything?’

‘Do not the gods know?’ said Flaxius, amazed.

‘Who knows what the gods know?’ replied the _magia_. ‘They do not even know what they know themselves.’

By this high time the pair had passed as if by enchantment, or in a dream, into a strange mountain country, unknown to Flaxius. Wilder grew the rocks and road until they came to a marvellous place where the cliffs were like a vast range of rude castles all in one. As they approached, Flaxius saw them change to magnificent ancient structures. Then they entered a golden door, and soon were in a splendidly furnished apartment. The _magia_ was now a being of unearthly beauty, robed in light. Before her Flaxius forgot--it is to be desired that modern realists would do the same--even the transcendental upholstery.

‘Remarkable Young Man,’ said the beautiful being (pray be it noted by the reader that all the phrases here given are far more poetic in Etruscan), ‘I have brought you hither on important business.’

‘At your command, Daughter of the Most Beautiful,’ replied Flaxius. This was a delicate compliment, according to magic, for it was from a high formula of worship, and was therefore tenderly blasphemous in the genitive. The lady smiled subjectively, not with her face, but in her intonation, as she replied in the ablative absolute:

‘Know that I was this day what I was, for being what those were who insulted me, and truly in being every whit as base as they.’

‘This is a kind of poem,’ reflected Flaxius. [A great many of the lyrics of that age were riddles, like some of the songs, and not a few of the novelettes of the present time, to say nothing of Browning.]

‘I was doing a deserved penance, from which you rescued me. Listen! I was born of the fairy race, but by long study, penance, and prayer to the Sublimities, rose to the higher order of spirits, beyond which are the minor gods, such as those to whom the great deities assign specialties in nature, or even in mortal life. My protectress was _Thana_, the chaste goddess of the moon, or Diana, and as power was to be gained by renouncing pleasure, I became proud of maiden _virtue_, believing it was a virtue in itself, and not one of the means thereto.’

‘More and more interesting,’ reflected Flaxius, ‘And a neat distinction!’

‘And one day, in my vanity, I insulted one of the beautiful attendants on Turan or Venus, the Goddess of Beauty and Love; for I reviled a Lasa, or one of the spirits who are attendants on and mistresses of the souls which come from earth. Yes, I insulted her, much as I was this day insulted by the mob. There was an appeal to the gods, and Tinia, the Lord of All, sentenced me to assume the mortal form in which you to-day first beheld me, and to endure the insults of men till I should learn higher truth, and until I should meet with a mortal who would treat me sincerely with true humanity. This I have done, and now I am not only freed from penance, but find myself advanced far beyond what I was,--going in golden glory ever on. Yet I say, in truth, that I did not suffer once or in the least as a mortal, from the time that I was struck by the great truth in all its branches, that no one should be condemned for being what one is by fate, and that Inferno is not too bad for a prurient prude on the prowl.

‘But to _you_, who were in this my master, I owe great gratitude. By penance and prayer I have accumulated much power which I proposed to devote to advancing myself to higher lives. But it shall go to you in the form of two wishes. I can wait for more and work a while longer. Ask for whatever you can imagine, such as a mortal may require--wealth or power, choose!’

‘Your ladyship,’ replied Flaxius, ‘is decidedly determined to prove that in this world the less a man does, the better he is paid for it. Having been already rewarded a millionfold by the sight of your superb beauty, for what I declare in all sincerity seems to me to be a mere little street incident, in which I casually comported myself as a simply decent man should, I am, of course, to receive further recompense beyond all human conception. ’Tis the rule. So be it! Yet I pray you, most Beautifully Grateful, do not ascribe it to modesty or virtue if I am not extravagant in my desire. I have heard of a man who having been offered a wish by a god, forthwith wished that his future wishes might all be granted. Cunning, that! And they were all granted, so that in the end he became the most miserable creature on earth, and ended by wishing himself to the devil, and got there, as must befall most mortals who get all they want. Now as you, O Beyond-all-Dreams, are inconceivably my superior in wisdom, it occurs to me that a single wish guided by your sagacity would be more to my benefit than a thousand emanating from my weak mind. Therefore, for a beginning, I wish that your Divine Loveliness would kindly tell me what my second wish should be.’

‘There is in that wish,’ replied the spirit, ‘a combination of generosity, courtesy, and gratitude, such as a first-class god need not be ashamed of. Well, I will choose for you a wish that would suit few men. You shall live on earth, a philosopher, but ever in manly strength and health, as long as you will, and to the end of time if you choose it. You will see and feel so deeply into Nature--as I can well foresee--that the passing away of other mortals, races, or kingdoms, will be but as the passing away of other guests from a hostelry, or as clouds from the sky. For to such as you are, O Humorist! to live on earth or in heaven, amid ghosts or gods, would in the end be all one and the same; you would note it all with curious observation, and be the same unchanged in every age. For to him who has like unto thee attained to seeing things absolutely as they _are_--gods or geese are all one and the same.’

‘What a stupendous truth!’ thought Flaxius, ‘and how beautifully expressed! I could go on listening to this lady till I should grow thirsty--for fame!’

‘And they _are_ all one and the same,’ continued the spirit-lady, ‘to him who is honest--which always means generous; they are all one and the same to the upright or charitable. How do you like your gift?’

‘I am delighted, O my Eyes, beyond all expression, and now see how wise I was to trust to your higher wisdom. To tell the truth, O Diva, I was dreadfully afraid lest your grace might bestow on me wealth--I detest business--unbounded dominion, ineffable winsomeness, æsthetic taste--O Rubbish!--gratified ambition--O Emetics!--and power--not being, I trust, a cad. For to tell the truth, I was fearfully afraid of all earthly blessings, and so as to secure the least of evils, resolved to take but one, as I was in politeness bound not to decline your offer of sugar-plums, and therefore choose what it seems best to you to give.’

‘You are, O philosopher,’ replied the spirit, ‘so ingenious in your generosity, that you make yourself almost discourteous. Man, I read your heart, and know that you are no more free from desire than are the gods; for to wish for nothing is to live no more. Now, will I hold you firmly, and give you more, whether you will or not. Thy first wish was no wish at all, O Flaxius; it was but a kindly gift to me to spare my power, and aid me on my road to higher life. Therefore, a wish still remains to thee, and I warn thee that the favours of the gods are not to be lightly cast aside. Therefore, make a wish now for thyself, and look that thou put into it all thy heart, and all thy self.’

‘Then, lady,’ replied Flaxius, ‘since I must ask for Something, I wish to know in what manner I can best show my gratitude to you for all this kindness.’

‘Go thy way for an incorrigible rogue!’ exclaimed the spirit, this time with a divinely genial smile on her countenance. ‘I see that thou wilt never be beaten at this game. Ages on ages hence, when thou may’st take a fancy to leave the world, there shall be inscribed on thy tomb: “Here lies Flaxius, never surpassed among men or gods in generosity, courtesy, or coolness!”’

‘And the gratitude, O Marvellous One,’ exclaimed Flaxius.

‘Thou canst show it best by remaining here as my guest, and regarding my house as a home. When weary of wandering about in the wide world, come here and rest, and ever be welcome. Here no haunting _Hintial_ or Spirit of the Shadow can cast a gloom over life; in these fairy palaces all is peace. ‘But remember, Flaxius,’ added the beautiful spirit, ‘that it is still not too late for thee to express and receive another wish. By the eternal law of the Aesir, this must be done within the fated, favourable hour when a spirit offers it. Opportunity is golden, and I ask it as a favour.’

‘Then, your Resplendent Picturesqueness and Benign Benevolence,’ replied Flaxius, quoting at hap-hazard what he could recall from the Etruscan prayer-book, and grasping desperately in earnest at the first thing he could think of which would be nice to have, or to be, ‘make me an Original Character.’

The Peri of Loveliness raised the two most beautiful little hands which Flaxius had ever seen, and slightly spreading the rosy fingers, struck them downwards abruptly, even as mortals do when they ‘give it up’ in mild despair, and are dead-locked, grassed, or gravelled.

‘I hope I utter no blasphemy against the power of the immortals,’ said the Beautiful One, ‘but I verily believe the gods themselves, O Flaxius, can add nothing to thee as thou art in that respect. O Tinia, father of the deities, ineffable, overwhelming, and unspeakable Fulminator!’ she exclaimed, with the passion of a wildly inspired divinity, ‘am I not right, and if so, give me a sign, that I speak the truth? My destiny! what _can_ one do with such a man!’

Over all Northern Italy there roared such a peal of thunder as the oldest _aruspices_ or _lucumones_ had never heard before. It rang in Rome, and rolled beyond the Alps. Vesuvius, by fair Parthenopis, answered it with the tremendous peal of an eruption, as Vulcan (termed _Sethlans_, the earthly deity of fire) answered his awful brother of the air. It drove the gods of the fields and roads, the fairies and satyrs, _silvani_, fauns, _dusii_, and all their kind, in terror to the mountain caves and forests. It pierced, like a spirit, to the depths of the darkest caverns wherein reposed the ancestors, and the dead amid the painted vases and mystic bronzes turned over in their eternal sleep; and every statue in the land was found next morning in a changed position, or bottom upwards. The _magi_ consulted the _Ars Fulguritora_, written of yore by the nymph Begoe, to translate the mighty peal, for unto them its words were a distinct language. And as they overturned the holy utterance, syllable by syllable, from the dictionary into Etruscan, it read:

‘Fear not, O daughter, for thou speakest truth: That is about the size of it, in sooth, For well I ween on earth no queerer _cus_ Did ever live than this thy Flaxius.’

[_Cus_, be it observed, is a terminal noun signifying a person of any kind--as _rusticus_, _grammaticus_, _clericus_, and many other kinds of cusses--its use here being a proof of the immense antiquity of the Sabine Latin version of the original from which this tale is taken.]

_Ab hac origine et itinere terrestri illuc profectus est_--‘’twas thus that Flaxius got his start in life.’ _Ab hoc disce_--‘learn from his legend this,’ concludes the scroll:

‘Be it a slipper or be she a shrew, Be civil to women whatever you do!’

FLAXIUS AND THE GOD

‘Every Divinity--no matter who-- Is but the ideal of an age or race Which makes its god, though it be not with hands, Just in the form which it would like to wear. And every man in this is like his age.’

AGES have passed away since Flaxius found himself one twilight in autumn in the wild Lombard land of Northern Italy. Towering far as eye could see, vast cliffs or mighty peaks sprang up like living forms, with precipiced sides falling gracefully as classic draperies; bold and strange and all unlike the rounded hills and undulating plains of other countries. Before him spread, as if into a steel-blue eternity, the shining Mediterranean; all about him seemed beautiful, cold, and strange as in a dream. The western sky was one even hue of rich, ripe orange turning into brown. Upon a distant headland rose an ancient tower, by which rested a vessel with one long, sloping sail. A chill stole o’er the whispering breeze, and the evening star shone gently forth.

And standing there high upon the mountain, the mystic magian and undying one looked around among the rocks and said: