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J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, 
Volume 1, by 
 
Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu 
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Title: J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 1 
Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu 
Release Date: March 24, 2004 [eBook #11699] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK J. S. LE 
FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES, VOLUME 1*** 
E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Andrea Ball, and the Project 
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
J. S. LE FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES, VOLUME 1 
Schalken the Painter (1851) 
and 
An Account of Some Strange Disturbances in Aungier Street (1853) 
by 
Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu 
 
Schalken the Painter 
_"For he is not a man as I am that we should come together; neither is 
there any that might lay his hand upon us both. Let him, therefore, take 
his rod away from me, and let not his fear terrify me."_ 
There exists, at this moment, in good preservation a remarkable work 
of Schalken's. The curious management of its lights constitutes, as 
usual in his pieces, the chief apparent merit of the picture. I say 
apparent, for in its subject, and not in its handling, however exquisite, 
consists its real value. The picture represents the interior of what might 
be a chamber in some antique religious building; and its foreground is 
occupied by a female figure, in a species of white robe, part of which is 
arranged so as to form a veil. The dress, however, is not that of any 
religious order. In her hand the figure bears a lamp, by which alone her 
figure and face are illuminated; and her features wear such an arch 
smile, as well becomes a pretty woman when practising some prankish 
roguery; in the background, and, excepting where the dim red light of 
an expiring fire serves to define the form, in total shadow, stands the 
figure of a man dressed in the old Flemish fashion, in an attitude of 
alarm, his hand being placed upon the hilt of his sword, which he 
appears to be in the act of drawing. 
There are some pictures, which impress one, I know not how, with a 
conviction that they represent not the mere ideal shapes and
combinations which have floated through the imagination of the artist, 
but scenes, faces, and situations which have actually existed. There is 
in that strange picture, something that stamps it as the representation of 
a reality. 
And such in truth it is, for it faithfully records a remarkable and 
mysterious occurrence, and perpetuates, in the face of the female figure, 
which occupies the most prominent place in the design, an accurate 
portrait of Rose Velderkaust, the niece of Gerard Douw, the first, and, I 
believe, the only love of Godfrey Schalken. My great grandfather knew 
the painter well; and from Schalken himself he learned the fearful story 
of the painting, and from him too he ultimately received the picture 
itself as a bequest. The story and the picture have become heir-looms in 
my family, and having described the latter, I shall, if you please, 
attempt to relate the tradition which has descended with the canvas. 
There are few forms on which the mantle of romance hangs more 
ungracefully than upon that of the uncouth Schalken--the boorish but 
most cunning worker in oils, whose pieces delight the critics of our day 
almost as much as his manners disgusted the refined of his own; and 
yet this man, so rude, so dogged, so slovenly, in the midst of his 
celebrity, had in his obscure, but happier days, played the hero in a wild 
romance of mystery and passion. 
When Schalken studied under the immortal Gerard Douw, he was a 
very young man; and in spite of his phlegmatic temperament, he at 
once fell over head and ears in love with the beautiful niece of his 
wealthy master. Rose Velderkaust was still younger than he, having not 
yet attained her seventeenth year, and, if tradition speaks truth, 
possessed all the soft and dimpling charms of the fair, light-haired 
Flemish maidens. The young painter loved honestly and fervently. His 
frank adoration was rewarded. He declared his love, and extracted a 
faltering confession in return. He was the happiest and proudest painter 
in all Christendom. But there was somewhat to dash his elation; he was 
poor and undistinguished. He dared not ask old Gerard for the hand of 
his sweet ward. He must first win a reputation and a competence. 
There were, therefore, many dread    
    
		
	
	
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