Is to make midnight mushrooms, who rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew—
and “weak masters though they be”, their melody hovers round us as sweet as the air-borne songs of Ariel, and when we wake from the trance into which they have plunged us, “we cry to dream again”—
In spite of similarity in construction it will be seen that the general atmosphere of Montorio differs greatly from the feminine gentleness of Mrs Radcliffe—as much as it does from the crude straightforwardness of Lewis; and it speaks much for Maturin’s originality that he at once succeeded in preserving a tone so distinctly his own among patterns so highly admired.—
Lastly, a third class of the novel of terror is that in which the marvellous or seemingly supernatural phenomenon is represented as a result of scientific or quasi-scientific occupations, and, consequently, within the limits of possibility. Instead of receiving a ‘natural’ explanation à la Mrs Radcliffe, the reader is referred to the effects of mesmerism, hypnotism, or some other suggestive and incompletely known branch of natural science. This class, of which Edgar Allan Poe was to become the most brilliant representative—and in which the elements strictly Gothic are often dispensed with—was the latest developed of the three. At the time Montorio was written, it had been touched upon in some of the tales of the American Charles Brockden Brown (1771-1810) which, however, it is very uncertain whether Maturin was acquainted with. Closely related to novels of this class are the so-called Rosicrucian stories, which deal with alchemic pursuits; the most celebrated of these, the St. Leon of William Godwin, to which Maturin’s Melmoth the Wanderer is largely indebted, appeared in 1799.
The plot in Montorio is sufficiently intricate to necessitate a commencement of the analysis from the end and to reveal the mystery at once.
The ‘fatal revenge’ is perpetrated by Orazio, count of Montorio, upon his brother, who has, in a diabolical manner, caused the death of his (Orazio’s) wife and the ruin of all his family. Orazio and his younger brother are, some twenty years before the commencement of the story, the only surviving representatives of a house which for centuries has been one of the most illustrious in the kingdom of Naples. Orazio is of a brave and enthusiastic disposition, and warmly attached to his unworthy brother; the latter is incapable of holding any of the commissions procured for him by Orazio, and finally marries a woman whose family are on a decidedly hostile footing towards his brother. At the same time Orazio himself marries a beautiful and distinguished lady called Erminia di Amaldi, whom, with his usual impetuosity, he drags to the altar almost by main force. Very soon it becomes obvious to him that his love is not reciprocated, and all the goodness and gentleness of his wife cannot conceal the fact that she feels profoundly unhappy. Now Orazio is reconciled to his brother and invites him to the castle of Muralto, the family residence. The brother, coveting the title and estates of Montorio, determines to avail himself of the apparent depression of Erminia, whom he hates, being a rejected suitor of hers, while his wife, who is equally depraved, eagerly abets him in his intentions. He conceives a plan of exciting the jealousy of Orazio, which, considering his vehement nature, he rightly conjectures will be of fatal consequence. The plan is easily executed. It is generally known that a young officer of the name of Verdoni has been in love with Erminia before her marriage; and with the assistance of a rascally servant dismissed by Verdoni and taken up by the younger Montorio, the suspicions of Orazio are awakened and successfully kept alive by means of continual hints and allusions. Letters written by his wife to Verdoni are thrown into his way, and at last it is even proved that Erminia is in the habit of meeting Verdoni at the house of a peasant, where there is a little child who is the object of the tender care of both. Orazio’s rage knows no bounds. Verdoni is treacherously assaulted and brought to Muralto, where Orazio lets him be murdered before the eyes of Erminia; which horrible sight puts an end to her life also. Well-nigh deranged with sorrow and fear, Orazio leaves the country and finds a solitary refuge on a small isle in the Grecian archipelago, which is believed to be haunted and is never visited by the people of the neighbouring islands. Here his ‘propensities and habits cease to be those of humanity,’ and his bodily strength and perseverance likewise grow almost superhuman. His tranquillity is unexpectedly disturbed by a boat landing on the shore, with two men in it, whom he understands to speak Italian. From a part of their conversation which he overhears, he gathers that they are assassins sent out by the present count of Montorio, who cannot feel at ease while his brother is alive. In the night he is attacked by the men but easily dispatches both of them. By the corpse of one he finds some letters containing an account of the tragedy at Muralto, which clearly demonstrates the innocence of Erminia. It appears that she had been attached to Verdoni from her earliest youth. Her father being opposed to their union, they were married privately, and the following year Erminia was delivered of a daughter at the house of a relative. At the same time reports were spread of Verdoni’s death while on an expedition, and in the meantime Erminia’s father had compelled her to accept Orazio. When Verdoni had returned, Erminia was the unhappy but faithful wife of another.—Such are the tidings Orazio learns in his solitude, and to them are added those of the death of all his children. He lingers long in a state of stupefaction, but at length his energies are roused and inflamed into their former fury, whereupon a thirst for revenge is the only feeling which fills his soul, night and day. The revenge is to fall upon the whole family of his guilty brother, whose children, according to Orazio’s idea of combining justice with vengeance, are to be made the punishers of their father. Before, however, starting to put his purpose into effect, Orazio undertakes an extensive journey to the East where he becomes an adept in secret and magical studies, and during which his mental and physical abilities are developed to the highest perfection. Thence he returns to Italy and enters a convent under the name of father Schemoli. As he knows how to give himself an air of particular sanctity, he is soon called to the castle Muralto, to be the confessor of count Montorio, who has, by this time, become a rigid devotee.—
The story begins with a description of the family residing at the ancient castle. The gloomy retirement in which the count and countess pass their days is in no wise brightened by the presence of the confessor who is their only companion. Their eldest son, Ippolito, lives at Naples, as the admired and brilliant leader of the pleasures and dissipations of its jeunesse dorée, while the younger, Annibal, who is of a timid, melancholy, and suspicious disposition, is an inhabitant of Muralto. The members of the family have, from time immemorial, been noted for their love of magic and the preternatural. It is subsequently upon this inclination which the young men, otherwise so different, have in common, that the monk bases his scheme of inducing them to destroy their father. The story is one of a continuous, unrelenting process of strong mental suggestion, operating through its victims’ readiness to believe in supernatural agency. The plot goes forward alternately at the castle and at Naples; the adventures of Annibal are told by himself in letters to his brother. Muralto is furnished with everything required for a scene of ‘Gothic incidents.’ There is an old, uninhabited wing of the castle, with a cemetery-chapel partly in ruins, and no end of secret doors, intricate passages, and subterranean vaults. It is the delight of Annibal to ramble about in these desolate places; he has heard that a mystery is connected with the sudden and tragical end of the late possessor of the castle, whose fate greatly excites his curiosity. He attaches himself to an old servant who apparently knows more than he dares disclose. Much against his will the old man is persuaded to accompany Annibal on his nocturnal visits to the deserted part of the building—nocturnal, because the count is suspected to be very unfavourably disposed towards this kind of occupation. With difficulty they open the long-shut door to the apartments used by count Orazio. A portrait of the countess Erminia makes a profound impression upon Annibal, who feels assured that the original is still in the land of the living; he makes a copy of the picture, which he always carries about him. These excursions are exactly what Schemoli would wish, it being very easy for him, with his familiarity with all the recesses of the building, to awaken superstitious fear in the visitants. At times they see a human figure issuing, as it were, directly out of the wall; they hear mysterious steps and observe strange lights moving around them. Blood is detected on the floors, and in a cavity of the wall a skeleton is discovered. Once the old man disappears, for a while, as if swallowed up by the tombs. Shortly afterwards he dies, without being able to reveal what he has seen among the dead; he merely repeats that ‘the house of Montario must fall!’ Attended by a nephew of the old man, called Filippo, who now becomes his companion, Annibal continues to explore the ruins, until one night they are surprised by the count and Schemoli. The count, in a fury which betrays him to be conscious of a crime, has Annibal imprisoned in a lonely chamber in the castle, where, for some time to come, he beholds no face but that of the monk. At this stage Schemoli deems it fit to commence his work. He never speaks to the prisoner, or heeds his queries, by day; but every night at twelve he emerges from his castle of silence and sallies forth to Annibal’s room, where he serves up a fantastical story which he pretends to be allowed to relate at that hour only. He tells that he is the spirit of the dead body discovered by Annibal in the chapel. His life has been wild and sinful, and he has suffered a violent death. The body Annibal now sees before him is one two thousand years old, re-animated to become the abode of his spirit, until his real body is properly interred and vengeance wreaked upon his murderer. This task an implacable fate has destined to be executed by Annibal; and he is made to understand—although it is never distinctly uttered—that the criminal he must punish is his father. Annibal repudiates the idea with indignation, but Schemoli calmly repeats that his fate is inevitable, and that he is compelled to pursue Annibal everywhere until the deed is done. The mind of Annibal is already beginning to give way under the regular pressure of Schemoli, when these midnightly visits are suddenly interrupted. Annibal has, for some time, been permitted to enjoy the society of Filippo.—The count had promised to send Filippo to another of his estates, while the ruffian who was to be his guide had received a secret commission to murder him on the way. After a marvellous escape, however, Filippo had boldly returned to the castle and offered himself to act as a spy upon Annibal.—As he is really devoted to Annibal, he has the difficult task of operating as a double spy; but in this he succeeds so well as to find out that his master is to be poisoned by the monk. Through the dexterous management of Filippo, the draught prepared for Annibal is swallowed by Schemoli himself, after which the prisoners make their escape from the castle. Annibal determines to proceed to Naples to his brother, but on arriving there he learns that Ippolito has just left the town in a state of desperation.—
Interesting as are Annibal’s letters to his brother, Ippolito pays them but little attention, being wholly absorbed by business of his own. He has run across a stranger who exercises a mysterious, irresistible ascendancy over his mind. This stranger, otherwise father Schemoli, introduces himself to Ippolito in a manner calculated to excite, by degrees, his interest and curiosity; speaking, at first, but little at a time and then disappearing. Ippolito is usually called to meet him by letters which he finds in his room, none of his servants being able to explain how they get there. Soon it is generally observed that Ippolito is in the habit of spending his nights at some unknown place whence he always returns with a pale and haggard appearance; and when at times he takes part in his former amusements, he does so with the wild despair of one who wishes to escape his own thoughts. His young page, Cyprian, who takes tender care of him, endeavours, by every means, to keep him at home; sometimes he reads a diary to him, partly in verse and partly in prose, written by a nun and dedicated to some one she is hopelessly attached to. The gentle influence of Cyprian, however, is no match for the miraculous power of Schemoli. When midnight arrives, Ippolito departs. Once he has invited a company of friends to his house, but at the usual hour a gigantic figure, with his face concealed in a mask, appears among them, beckoning to Ippolito, who submissively follows him. Their destination is a subterranean vault, whither Ippolito is always conducted blindfold, and the purpose of these excursions is to impress upon him that he is ordered, by fate, to commit an extraordinary deed. Just as in the case of Annibal, the monk enjoins upon Ippolito that he himself labours under the same fate, and that his is no voluntary service; and the credulous mind of Ippolito soon proves susceptible to the imposture. One night he is informed that ‘the hour is come.’ He is again conducted to the vaults where he is received by several figures fantastically attired; after a multitude of mysterious rites and ceremonies he is shown, by a pantomimic display, that he is destined to commit a murder against his will, and also who is to be his victim. Like Annibal he is seized with violent indignation, but the serenity of Schemoli remains unperturbed. In great despair Ippolito leaves Naples at the very time Annibal arrives there from Muralto.