Jan Van Hunks (British Library, Ashley 3868) Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1 Text courtesy of the British Library Jan Van Hunks Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1882 fair copy 13 leaves (in a notebook of 28 leaves) The poem is fair copied in ink into a quarto notebook (unwatermarked) of white laid and ruled paper. The text is copied on both sides of the first two leaves and on the recto of the remaining eleven. DGR's corrections are in both ink and pencil. DGR DGR The British Library Ashley 3868 laid white ruled, 16 x 10.2 cm none The notebook is a standard stationer's size account book. Commentary
Introduction

This manuscript of the ballad was fair copied by DGR, probably in February and March 1882, from the late working manuscript of 1881-1882. DGR gave it as a gift to Watt-Dunton, who published the ballad for the first time after DGR's death. The text printed by Watts-Dunton does not give and accurate rendering of its manuscript copy.

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

Production History

Reception History

Iconographic

Printing History

First published from this manuscript in 1909 in <hi rend="i">The English Review</hi> (January 1909), 193-200 .

Pictorial

Historical

Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

Wahl ed., <hi rend="i">Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Jan Van Hunks</hi> 1952

Ashley 3868

Ashley No.3868

 1 Page number added in upper right corner Jan Van Hunks. --------- Full of smoke was the quaint old room And of pleasant winter-heat; Whence you might hear the hall-door slap, And the wary shuffling of feet Which from the carpeted floor stepped out Into the ice-paved street. Van Hunks was laughing in his paunch; Twelve silver Ten golden pieces rare Lay in his hand; with neighbour Spratz He had smoked for a wager there. He laughed, and from his neighbour's pipe He looked to his neighbour's chair. Even as he laughed, the evening shades Rose stealthily and spread, Till the smoky clouds walled up the sun And hid his shining old head, As though he too took had his evening pipe Before he tumbled to bed. The stanza is an addition to the poem, and marked for insertion on page [2r] Van Hunks still chuckled as he sat: It caused him an inward grin, When he heard the blast shake shutter & blind With its teeth-chattering din, To fancy the many who froze without While he sat thawing within. 2 Page number added in upper right corner His bowl restuffed, again he puffed: No noise the stillness broke Save the tread of feet here & there in the street, And the church-bell's hourly stroke; While silver white through the deepening shade dusk Up leaped the rapid smoke. “For thirty years,” the Dutchman said, “I have smoked both night and day; I've laid great wagers on my pipe. But never had once to pay For my vapouring foes long ere the close Have all sneaked sickly away “Ah! would that I could find but one Who knew me not too well To try his chance against me After the evening bell, Even though he came to challenge me From the smoking-crib of Hell!” His breath still lingered on the air And mingled with the smoke, The stanza is an addition to the poem, and marked for insertion on page [3r] What thunder dwelt there, that which had car[?] left On his brow that lowering trace,— What lightning, that which could kindle so The fitful glare on his face,— Though the sneering smile coursed over his lips, And the laughter rose apace? 3 Page number added in upper right corner When he was aware of a little old man In broidered hosen and tocque, Who looked as through from a century's sleep That instant he had woke. Small to scan was the little old man, Passing small and lean; Yet a something lurked about him, Felt strongly though unseen, Which made you fear the hidden soul Whose covering was so mean. With cap in hand the stranger bowed Till the feather swept his shoe:— “A gallant wish was yours,” he said, “And I come to pleasure you: We're goodly gossips, you and I,— Let us wager and fall to.” The Dutchman stared. “How here you came Is nothing to me,” he said; “A stranger I sought to smoke withal, And my wish is seconded; Blank page 4 Page number added in upper right corner But tell me, what should the wager be, By these our two pipes essay'd?” “Nay now,” the old man said, “what need Have we for a golden stake? What more do we wa ask but honour's spur To keep our hopes awake? And yet some bond 'twixt our goodwills Must stand for the wager's sake. “This be our bond:—two midnights hence The term of our strife shall be; And whichsoe'er to the other then M[?]Shall yield the victory, At the victor's hest that must needs accept His hospitality.” “Done, done!” the Dutchman cried; “ for your home, I'd know it not, seek reach be it far or near; But in my good pipe I set my trust, And 'tis you shall sojourn here; Here many a time we'll meet again For the smokers' welcome cheer.” Blank page 5 Page number added in upper right corner With that, they lit their pipes and smoked, And never a word they said: The darkdense cloud gathered about them there High over each smoke-crowned head, As if by with the will mesh of some secret thing They sat encompassèd. But now when a great blast shook the house, And The Dutchman laughed paused and spoke:— “If aught this night could be devised To sweeten our [?] glorious smoke, 'Twere the thought of the outcast loons who freeze 'Neath the winter's bitter yoke.” The stranger said laughed: “I most have watched The dire extremes of heat, And like yourself Ay, more than you, I have seen men shrink quail, And found their sufferings sweet. Brave Fit gossips, you and I! you and I! But hark hark! What sound comes from the street?” To the street the chamber-window stood, With shutters strongly barred. Blank page 6 Page number added in upper right corner There came a timid knock without And another afterward; But both so low and faint and weak That the casement never jarred. And weak the voice that came with the knock:— “My father, lend your ear! 'Twas store of gold that you bade me wed, But the wife I chose was dear; And she and my babes crave only bread: O father, pity and hear!” Van Hunks looked after the feathered smoke:— “What thing so slight and vain As joy pride whose plume is torn in the wind And joy's rash flight to pain?” Then loud: “Thou mindst when I bade thee hence,— Poor fool, go hence again!” There came a moan to the lighted room, A moan to the frosty sky:— “O father, my loves are dying now,— Father, you too must die. Blank page 7 Page number added in upper right corner Oh! on your soul, by God's good grace, Let not this dread hour lie!” “Gossip, well done!” quoth the little old man; And in a silvery spire, Like a spider's web up leaped his smoke Still twisting higher and higher; And still through the veil his watchful eye Burned with a fell desire. A woman's voice came next to the wall:— “Father, my mother died: 'Twas three months since that you drove her forth In the bitter Christmastide: How could I care for your proffered gold And quit my mother's side? “For two months now I have begged my bread; Father, I can no more: My mother's blind and deaf in her grave, But her soul is at Heaven's door; And though we're parted on this side death, We may meet on the further shore.” Blank page 8 Page number added in upper right corner Van Hunks laughed up at the scudding smoke:— “Ay, go what way you will! Of folly and pride, in life or death, Let a woman take her fill! My girl, even choose this road or that, So we be asunder still!” “Gossip, well done!” the old man shrieked, “And mark how her words come true!” The smoke soared wildly around his head In snakes of knotted blue; And ever at heart of the inmost coil, Two fiery eyes shone through. Above the hearth was a carven frame Where seven small mirrors shone; There six bright moon-shapes circled round A centre rayed like a sun; And ever the reflex image dwelt Alike in every one. No smokers' faces appeared there now; But there, lo! by magic art, Blank page 9 Page number added in upper right corner Seven times one squalid chamber showed The dull grave's counterpart; For there two starving parents lay With their starved babes heart to heart. Then changed the scene. In the watered street, 'Twixt houses dim and tall, Like shaggy dogs did the pollards shake Above the dark canal; And a girl's thin form gleamed through the night, And sank; and that was all. And there the smoker beheld once more Seven times his own hard face; Half-dazed it seemed with the sudden sights, But showed no sign of grace; And seven times flashed flashed two fiery eyes In the mirror's narrow space. The hours wore on, and still they sat Mid the vapour's stifling cloud; The one tow'rds sudden stupor sank, While the other laughed aloud. Blank page 10 Page number added in upper right corner Alas for the shrinking blinking owl, With the vulture over him bowed! 'Twas the second night of the wager now, And the midnight hour was near. That glance like a kindled cresset blazed:— “Ho! gossip of mine, what cheer?” But the smoke from the Dutchman's pipe arose No longer swift and clear. The door-bell rang: “Peace to this house!”— 'Twas the Pastor's voice that spoke. Above Van Hunks's head still curled A fitful flickering smoke, As the last half-hour ere full midnight From the booming clock-tower broke. The old man doffed his bonnet & cringed As he oped the chamber-door; The priest cast never a glance his way, But crossed the polished floor To where the Dutchman's head on his breast Lolled with a torpid snore. Blank page 11 Page number added in upper right corner “Mynheer, your servant sought me out; He says that day and night You have sat—” He shook the smoker's arm, But shrank in sudden fright, The arm dropped down like a weight of lead, The face was dull and white. And now the old man stranger stood astride, And taller he seemed to grow: The pipe sat firm in his sneering lips, And with victorious glow Like dancing figures around its bowl Did the smoke-wreaths come and go. “Nay, nay,” he said, “our gossip sits To contemplation bent; On son and daughter afar, his mind Is doubtless all intent; Haply his silence breathes a prayer Ere the midnight hour be spent.” “And who art thou?” the Pastor cried With a quaking countenance. Blank page 12 Page number added in upper right corner “A smoke-dried crony of our good friend Here rapt in pious trance.” And his chuckle shook the vaporous sprites To a madder merrier dance. “Hence, mocking fiend, for I know thee now! The Pastor signed the cross. Then the old man laughed and shrieked at once once, As over turret and fosse The midnight hour in the sleeping town From bell to bell did toss. “Too late, poor priest!” In the Pastor's ear So rang the scornful croak. With that, a swoon pas fell over his sense; And when at length he woke, Two pipes lay shattered upon the floor, And the room was black with smoke. --------------- That hour a direful Master sped Home to his fiery place; Blank page 13 Page number added in upper right corner A shrieking wretch hung over his back As he sank through nether space. Of such a rider on such a steed What tongue the flight shall trace? The bearer shook his burthen off As he reached his retinue: He's flung him into a knot of fiends, Red, yellow, green and blue:— “I've brought a pipe for my private use,— Go trim it, some of you!” They've sliced the very crown from his head,— Worse tonsure than a monk's— Lopped arms and legs,—stuck a red-hot tube In his wretchedest of trunks; And when the Devil wants his pipe, They bring him Jan Van Hunks. -----------------