The Gargoyles
Eli Stoddard was only six years old in the summer of 1861 when his father enlisted in the Union Army and went off to fight for President Lincoln; he was ten when his father returned. In the four intervening years, young Eli was in his mother's care and became the most outrageously spoiled child in Tall Pines.
After Captain Nathaniel Stoddard returned home to his wife and son, neither he nor the boy was very happy. Eli, for his part, hated having to share his mother's affections with another man. For four years he had been the center of Emma Stoddard's universe, her sole reason for living. Now she spent hours fussing over the returning war hero, stealing precious time away from her son. Eli wished with all his heart that his father had not come home, that he had been laid to rest on some distant battlefield in Pennsylvania or Virginia. Selfish by nature, he would much rather have had to live with the memory of a dead parent than with the presence of a living rival.
Nathaniel, on the other hand, had lived through hell for four long years. He had seen too many good men die in agony on both sides of the conflict and had himself brought death to more than a few fine young men of the Confederacy. He had been wounded twice, and for a brief time had even been imprisoned at the infamous Camp Sumter military prison in Andersonville, Georgia. Once the war was over, all he wanted was to return to his small farm in Connecticut and live out his days in peace in the comfort of his family. The poor man certainly did not expect to return to a son who hated him more than any Johnny Reb ever had.
"Don't worry, darling," Emma said soothingly. "It will just take a little time for Eli to get used to having you around again."
Despite his wife's optimism, such was not the case. As the years passed, the boy kept his distance from his father.
Nathaniel Stoddard was not the only man that Eli was to regard as an enemy; he was but the first.
The second was schoolteacher Silas Corwin, who had the misfortune of having to educate the spoiled young boy. Although Eli was not a bad student, he thought himself better than his classmates and seldom felt inclined to put forth any effort in his studies. He also took great delight in distracting the other students and disrupting the teacher's lessons. Mr. Corwin often found it necessary to chastise the lad, and on more than one occasion had to resort to laying a birch rod across his bottom in the name of discipline. Despite the painful physical punishment, Eli continued to defy the schoolmaster and secretly vowed that he would someday seek vengeance on Silas.
Then, in 1869, fourteen-year-old Eli Stoddard made a third enemy when he went to work for Wilmot Fisk, the owner of the Tall Pines dry goods store. Eli was responsible for doing the more strenuous chores that the rotund Mr. Fisk was physically unfit to perform. These consisted mainly of loading and unloading wagons; lifting heavy sacks, barrels and crates; and delivering goods to Wilmot's customers. Eli, who had never outgrown the feeling that he was better than everyone else, detested being forced to do such menial work. Even worse, Wilmot treated him little better than a servant. Eli hated both the shopkeeper and his job, but he somehow managed to endure them both for more than two years.
Not long after Eli began working for Wilmot Fisk, a wealthy shipbuilder named Uriah Hopkins settled in Tall Pines. Uriah was a widower with a daughter six months younger than Eli. One day while the delivery boy was bringing supplies to the Hopkins's cook, he spied the enchanting young Phoebe playing with her dog on the immense lawn of her father's estate. He walked around the side of the house and waved to her.
"Who are you?" she asked sweetly.
"I'm Eli Stoddard," he replied with a smile. "What's your name?"
"Phoebe Hopkins. I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Stoddard."
The two young people were soon interrupted by the girl's father.
"Phoebe!" he shouted. "Come in here at once. You know you're not to associate with such people."
Embarrassed by her father's discourtesy, the young woman put her head down and rushed into the house.
"Just what is your business here, boy?" Uriah asked rudely.
"I'm making a delivery for Wilmot Fisk."
"Fisk? Oh yes, the dry goods merchant. Well, get on with it and then be on your way."
"Sir, I only wished to make the acquaintance of your daughter."
"My daughter is a genteel young lady. She doesn't associate with delivery boys," he said curtly and returned to his house.
Thus, Uriah Hopkins became the fourth man on Eli Stoddard's list of adversaries.
Not long after Eli's encounter with Hopkins and his daughter, Emma Stoddard died of influenza. Her husband, the former Union captain, was inconsolable whereas her son was furious. The day after his mother's remains were interred in the cemetery adjacent to the Tall Pines Church, the angry young man left the little Connecticut town of his birth and headed for New York.
* * *
Mrs. Clement Wentworth III, the former Phoebe Hopkins, returned to Tall Pines after a six-month European honeymoon, a wedding gift from her doting father. Phoebe and her young husband, the son of a prominent (if somewhat impoverished) Boston family, would be staying with Uriah Hopkins until their own house—another wedding gift from the bride's father—was finished.
As Phoebe and Clement rode in their carriage toward the Hopkins estate, they passed a huge mansion under construction high on Dutchman's Bluff, overlooking the town.
"I bet that's our house," Phoebe said excitedly. "It must be twice the size of Father's. What will we do with such a big place?"
"I suppose your father is hoping for a lot of grandchildren," Clement laughed.
"Surely not that many!"
But as the carriage drew near the Hopkins's home, Phoebe saw another house, much smaller than the first, being built on the property adjoining her father's.
"I think I was mistaken. This must be our house," she said, clearly disappointed.
"It's a fine place," declared Clement, who was quite satisfied with his father-in-law's generosity.
After all, had he not married the daughter of a wealthy man, Clement would have had no choice but to live with his parents in Boston, a dismal prospect indeed.
Uriah Hopkins heard the carriage coming up the drive and ran out of the house to greet his daughter.
"Papa!" Phoebe cried and flew into her father's arms. "I had such a wonderful time. London and Rome were breathtaking, and Paris—what can I possibly say about Paris?"
"I'm so glad you're back," Uriah said, and then he led the two newlyweds inside where a feast had been prepared in honor of their homecoming. "What do you think of your house?"
"The one right next door?" Phoebe asked.
"Of course. After all, I have to keep an eye on my little girl, don't I?"
"It's a wonderful house, sir," Clement said. "I don't know how we can thank you."
"No thanks are necessary, my boy. Just promise me you'll take good care of my little Phoebe."
"Always, sir."
"Father," Phoebe asked suddenly, "on the way here we passed an enormous house being built."
"You must mean that monstrosity that's going up on Dutchman's Bluff."
"Yes, that's the one. Whose house is it?"
"Some rich banker from New York."
As they sat down to eat, the topic of the conversation switched to the couple's travels in Europe, and the huge house on the bluff was temporarily forgotten.
Phoebe Wentworth was not the only one in Tall Pines who was curious about the large house overlooking the town.
"Business must be good," Nathaniel Stoddard told Wilmot Fisk when he made his weekly trip into town. "With all this building going on, you'll find yourself a wealthy man soon."
"Not me," Wilmot replied bitterly. "That banker fellow has all his supplies shipped up from New York."
"Guess he's got a lot of money to waste."
Nathaniel's new wife, a good woman who had lost her husband in the battle of Gettysburg, was buying linen to make a new apron.
"Why would a New York millionaire want to build a house in Tall Pines?" she wondered.
It was a question most of the villagers were asking themselves.
* * *
Silas Corwin was the first person in Tall Pines to meet the mysterious new resident. Class had just been dismissed, and the schoolteacher was grading papers when the classroom door opened. Corwin suspected it was one of his students.
"Forgot something?" he asked without looking up from his task.
"I never forget anything," a man's voice echoed from the back of the room.
Silas raised his head and recognized the former student who was glaring at him.
"Eli Stoddard. It's been a long time. What are you doing back in Tall Pines?"
"I've come home, Mr. Corwin," he announced menacingly. "I'm having a house built on Naumkeag Hill, and I intend to live here."
"You're the New York banker?" Silas asked.
"Are you surprised? I'm sure you won't be the only one."
"Allow me to welcome you home then, Eli," the schoolteacher said uneasily.
"Thank you, Silas," he replied, stressing his use of the man's first name. "I'll be seeing you again. I promise."
Stoddard moved into his huge mansion the following week. He never bothered to visit his father, but he did go to the cemetery and place flowers on his mother's grave. He also made discreet inquiries about Phoebe Hopkins and learned of her recent marriage. This disappointment only added to the resentment he still felt toward the girl's father. True, there was no shortage of women in Eli's life, but none of them were in the same class as Phoebe Wentworth.
* * *
Immediately following Eli's return to Tall Pines, a stranger appeared in town. One night the unknown man took his dinner at the Town Crier Tavern where he invited Silas Corwin, who was also eating alone, to join him.
"What kind of work do you do?" the schoolteacher asked politely.
"I'm an artist. I paint a little, and I do a bit of sculpting. Right now, I'm doing portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth to hang in their new home."
"Ah!" the schoolteacher said with a warm smile. "The lovely Phoebe and her husband."
"You know, Mr. Corwin, you have a very interesting face. I'd like to sketch it sometime, if I may."
"Oh, I'm just a simple schoolteacher," Silas said, blushing with embarrassment. "I don't make much money."
"You misunderstand me, sir. I'd pay you to model for me. I can't afford to pay much, of course, because I'm not a rich man either. I do illustrations for a publisher in Philadelphia, and I sometimes have the devil of a time finding the right face. So, Mr. Corwin, would you like to earn a little extra money by allowing me to sketch you?"
Silas, a thrifty Yankee, could not pass up the offer. Neither could Nathaniel Stoddard or Wilmot Fisk. Uriah Hopkins, however, was a rich and proud man. A different approach was necessary in his case.
"Mr. Hopkins," the artist said confidentially. "I'd be willing to bet your daughter would love to have a painting of you hanging in her new house. If you're interested, I'll do your portrait at half my usual fee. The only problem is that I have to leave at the end of the week. But if you have a spare hour or so, I can sketch you now and then do the painting later. When the portrait is finished, I'll send it to you."
Uriah, who would not have been tempted by the promise of payment, did agree to sit for the artist at the prospect of pleasing his daughter.
A few weeks later, upon the completion of Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth's portraits, the artist packed his bags and secretly took up residence in Eli Stoddard's mansion.
"Are you ready to begin?" the host asked his guest as he showed him to one of the many unused bedrooms in the house.
"I have everything I need. I can start in the morning if you like."
Eli's warped smile dripped with malevolence.
For the next ten months, the artist worked in the temporary studio that had been set up at the mansion.
"Well, Mr. Stoddard?" he asked expectantly as his patron gazed at the finished sculptures. "Are they what you wanted?"
"I'm very pleased. In fact, I've decided to pay you extra. After all, you had to promise old Uriah Hopkins a portrait to get him to pose for you."
"Thank you, Mr. Stoddard. You're very generous."
Eli hired a group of strong men to hoist the four sculptures atop his roof: two above the front entrance, and one on each corner of the front veranda. The statues were then covered with cloth to hide them from the eyes of the curious until such time as he chose to unveil them.
* * *
The residents of Tall Pines were surprised when Eli Stoddard issued an open invitation to those people in town who wished to attend his thirtieth birthday party. A top chef was brought over from Paris and a popular music hall performer from London. Four men in town received specially engraved invitations: Nathaniel Stoddard, Silas Corwin, Wilmot Fisk and Uriah Hopkins.
"This is so exciting!" Phoebe exclaimed to her father when she learned of the party. "I'll have to call my dressmaker and have her sew a new gown for me."
"I don't understand all the fuss everyone is making over this Stoddard fellow," Uriah said pompously.
"He's filthy rich for one thing," Phoebe said.
"He's an upstart. He has no breeding whatsoever," declared Hopkins, a social snob, who never looked further back than two generations in his own lineage, for his great-grandfather, a cutpurse, had come to the new world aboard a convict ship. "I certainly don't intend to mingle with the likes of him."
"Father! This is going to be the most important social event of the year!"
Clement laughed.
"It's the only social event of the year, darling. This is Tall Pines, not London."
"Yes, I know. There has never been a party of this magnitude in our little town. Clement and I are going even if you aren't. But I do so wish you'd come with us, Papa."
Uriah looked at his beautiful daughter who in four months was to give birth to his grandchild. Despite his misgivings, he would go to the party but only to make her happy.
Nathaniel Stoddard, too, had reservations about attending his son's birthday celebration.
"The boy has hated me ever since I came home from the war," he exclaimed. "Why would he want to see me now?"
His wife, a sweet, loving woman who had no children of her own, was anxious to patch things up between Nathaniel and Eli.
"We all become wiser as we grow older. Perhaps his whole reason for moving here was to get closer to you. Why don't you give your son a chance? He has taken the first step and invited you to his house."
Like Uriah Hopkins, Nathaniel reluctantly agreed to attend, mainly to please his wife.
* * *
The evening of Eli's party was a warm, clear summer night. The mansion was awash with light, and music filtered down from Dutchman's Bluff to the village below. Hundreds of people accepted his invitation and flocked to the house, eager to see the elaborate mansion close up and to enjoy the free food and drink. Eli was a gracious host, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, but by ten o'clock, the first of the guests were ready to leave.
"Before anyone goes," the host announced, "I have a little surprise. I'm sure many of you noticed the four covered ornaments on my roof. In a few minutes, I'm going to unveil them. But first, there are several people in this town—people I knew in my boyhood—whom I would like to acknowledge. The first is my old teacher, Mr. Silas Corwin. The second is my former employer, Mr. Wilmot Fisk. The third is Mr. Uriah Hopkins, a man who taught me the value of wealth and position. And the last is my father, Nathaniel Stoddard. Gentlemen, when I left this pathetic little town, I vowed never to forget any of you. These," he said pointing to the covered statues, "will always help me to remember you."
Eli nodded his head, and four workmen tugged on the ropes that lowered the drop cloths. A collective gasp went through the crowd. The statues atop Eli Stoddard's roof were four hideous gargoyles: monstrous winged and horned demons with hunched backs and deformed appendages. The only human qualities these creatures possessed were their faces. Each of the four gargoyles was artfully sculpted, bearing the facial features of one of the four men the banker hated—the same four men on whom he had once vowed to take vengeance.
Eli's joy at his petty revenge was short-lived, however. The four men who had been so cruelly and publicly insulted said nothing. They simply took their leave in silence after the gargoyles were uncovered. Eli was disappointed by their lack of response. He had hoped for shouts, curses and threats, but these men behaved like gentlemen perhaps because they knew Stoddard for what he was: a spoiled, defiant and vindictive little boy who had never grown up.
* * *
In the years that followed that memorable party, Eli rarely visited his mansion on Dutchman's Bluff. Both his business and social life were in New York. He had built that enormous house only to show four men the measure of his success and the extent of his wealth, and he had the gargoyles sculpted to forever remind them of the enmity he felt toward them.
He did, however, make an occasional pilgrimage to his hometown. Whenever he did, he visited his mother's grave and showered it with fresh flowers. He also made sure that the gargoyles still stood guard atop his roof, clearly visible from the village below.
Yet even when Eli was in New York, he kept abreast of the news of Tall Pines. He learned with great sadness that less than six months from the night of his party, Phoebe Wentworth died in childbirth. Her father, Uriah Hopkins, passed away shortly after her death. The doctors say it was his heart, but some say he died of grief over the loss of his beloved daughter and stillborn grandson. Wilmot Fisk, who had grown fatter and lazier over the years, lost his business and took to drink. He was found dead in the gutter less than two years after the night of the party. One year later, the schoolteacher, Silas Corwin, was thrown from his horse and broke his neck.
Nathaniel Stoddard, a former captain in the Union Army, died of pneumonia just before his son's thirty-sixth birthday. He hadn't seen or heard from Eli in the six years following the scandalous evening. Nathaniel had lived out the last of his days in peace and happiness with his second wife, and upon his death, his widow had him buried next to Emma Stoddard, his first wife.
As his thirty-eighth birthday neared, Eli fell in love with his attorney's daughter, and after a brief courtship and engagement, the two were married. Hortense was sixteen years younger than her husband, but he was rich, so she was willing to overlook the difference in their ages. In New York society, where marriages were so often based on business and politics, theirs was based on love: Eli adored his beautiful young wife, who bore a striking resemblance to the black-haired, blue-eyed Phoebe Hopkins, and Hortense loved being married to a millionaire.
In the summer of 1896, New York City was sweltering. The hot, humid weather sent the wealthier residents to their vacation homes in Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey and Long Island. Hortense complained incessantly of the heat, and Eli suggested they take up residence in his Tall Pines home until the autumn season cooled things down.
"Why would I want to spend my summer in the middle of nowhere? Why can't we go to Newport like most of our friends?" Hortense whined.
"Because it will be impossible to find a place this late in the season. I'll tell you what, darling, we'll go to Connecticut this year, and I'll have a huge house built for you on Bellevue Avenue in time for next summer."
"Will it be as nice as Kingscote, Marble House or Chateau-sur-Mer?"
"I'll make it as grand as the Breakers if that will make you happy, my love."
At the prospect of owning a summer "cottage" in Newport, Rhode Island, Hortense agreed to go to Tall Pines for the remainder of the summer.
Like so many newly rich, Eli and Hortense Stoddard's tastes leaned toward the extravagant and ostentatious. Confusing size and price with quality, Hortense was delighted with Eli's home on on the bluff. It was, by far, the largest house in town. The only things she didn't like were the hideous gargoyles.
"They're so ugly!" she complained. "Why don't you tear them down and put up lions or, better yet, cherubs?"
Eli stared up at the familiar faces atop his roof. The gargoyles had served their purpose; he'd had his revenge. But since all of his enemies were dead now, there was no reason to keep the hideous effigies atop his house, especially if they displeased his beloved Hortense.
"Very well, darling," he agreed. "I'll send for a sculptor to design cherubs in place of those demons."
Later that night, as he slept alone in the master's bed, Eli was haunted by memories of his childhood. He relived in his dreams his father's return and his mother's betrayal. He saw the disapproving face of his schoolteacher and the beefy, miserly countenance of his employer. Even the vision of the beautiful, young Phoebe was marred by the visage of her arrogant, overbearing father.
Suddenly, a loud, scraping sound woke him from his fitful slumber.
"Hortense," he called out sleepily, "is that you?"
She didn't answer; she was asleep in her own room, separated from his by an adjoining sitting room.
The scraping sound grew louder and seemed to be coming from two different directions. Eli opened his eyes. Two large shadows were slowly moving across his room. They were soon joined by a third and then a fourth. Eli was afraid that burglars had found their way into his house. He feared for his life and that of his wife.
"Who's there?"
There was no reply from the shadows as they inched closer. When the nearest one reached the foot of his bed, Eli shuddered with fear. He knew that face. But Silas Corwin was dead, buried not far from Eli's mother and father. As the moonlight fell upon the countenance of his old schoolteacher, Eli saw the creature's wings spread wide. It was not the ghost of Silas Corwin at all; it was the gargoyle that had stood atop his roof directly above his front door.
As they drew closer, the other three gargoyles' features became recognizable. All four were there: Silas Corwin, Nathaniel Stoddard, Wilmot Fisk and Uriah Hopkins. Like giant chess pieces, the monstrous statues were moved across the floor by an unseen player. Once the four pawns surrounded Eli's bed, they came to life and moved of their own accord. Their heads turned, and their eyes focused on the man who lay cowering before them.
"This can't be happening," Eli cried, clutching his blankets, as though they could ward off the danger that was closing in on him.
The stone mouth of Nathaniel Stoddard slowly opened, and the inhuman voice of the gargoyle responded, "Your hatred gave us life. We fed off your desire for vengeance."
Then, with Eli's enemies all dead and buried, the evil malignancy the bitter man had unleashed turned and fed on him.
The following morning Hortense Stoddard was awakened by the screams of the maid.
"What's going on?" she demanded to know.
The butler broke the news to her.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Stoddard, but your husband seems to have suffered a heart attack during the night."
"Is he dead?" she asked.
The butler nodded solemnly.
"Will you see to things for me?"
"Of course, madam."
Hortense then returned to her room, got into bed and promptly fell back to sleep.
* * *
Eli Stoddard was buried next to his mother in the Tall Pines Church cemetery. Once Hortense inherited her husband's fortune, she chose to leave New York and travel throughout Europe. The house on Dutchman's Bluff was boarded up and abandoned.
Although from time to time, young boys would bravely explore the overgrown grounds and sneak inside the dilapidated mansion through one of its many broken windows, most of the people of Tall Pines ignored the house. The once-grand home had become an eyesore, a hideous monstrosity. Not one of the people who had attended the owner's thirtieth birthday party ever returned after his death. If they had, they might have noticed that the four gargoyles were now of uniform appearance, each bearing a strong resemblance to the late Eli Stoddard.
No, Salem, I'm not going to put that hideous gargoyle on the roof of our saltbox!
