Chapter V.

A few days after this, Virginia and her curly-haired cavalier went out riding on Brockley meadows, where she tore her habit so badly in getting through a hedge that, on their return home, she made up her mind to go up by the back staircase so as not to be seen. As she was running past the Tapestry Chamber, the door of which happened to be open, she fancied she saw some one inside, and thinking it was her mother's maid, who sometimes used to bring her work there, looked in to ask her to mend her habit. To her immense surprise, however, it was the Canterville Ghost himself! He was sitting by the window, watching the ruined gold of the yellowing trees fly through the air, and the red leaves dancing madly down the long avenue. His head was leaning on his hand, and his whole attitude was one of extreme depression. Indeed, so forlorn, and so much out of repair did he look, that little Virginia, whose first idea had been to run away and lock herself in her room, was filled with pity, and determined to try and comfort him. So light was her footfall, and so deep his melancholy, that he was not aware of her presence till she spoke to him.

"I am so sorry for you," she said, "but my brothers are going back to Eton to-morrow, and then, if you behave yourself, no one will annoy you."

"It is absurd asking me to behave myself," he answered, looking round in astonishment at the pretty little girl who had ventured to address him, "quite absurd. I must rattle my chains, and groan through keyholes, and walk about at night, if that is what you mean. It is my only reason for existing."

"It is no reason at all for existing, and you know you have been very wicked. Mrs. Umney told us, the first day we arrived here, that you had killed your wife."

"Well, I quite admit it," said the Ghost, petulantly, "but it was a purely family matter, and concerned no one else."

"It is very wrong to kill any one," said Virginia, who at times had a sweet puritan gravity, caught from some old New England ancestor.

"Oh, I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics! My wife was very plain, never had my ruffs properly starched, and knew nothing about cookery. Why, there was a buck I had shot in Hogley Woods, a magnificent pricket, and do you know how she had it sent to table? However, it is no matter now, for it is all over, and I don't think it was very nice of her brothers to starve me to death, though I did kill her."

"Starve you to death? Oh, Mr. Ghost—I mean Sir Simon, are you hungry? I have a sandwich in my case. Would you like it?"

"No, thank you, I never eat anything now; but it is very kind of you, all the same, and you are much nicer than the rest of your horrid, rude, vulgar, dishonest family."

"Stop!" cried Virginia, stamping her foot, "it is you who are rude, and horrid, and vulgar, and as for dishonesty, you know you stole the paints out of my box to try and furbish up that ridiculous blood-stain in the library. First you took all my reds, including the vermilion, and I couldn't do any more sunsets, then you took the emerald-green and the chrome-yellow, and finally I had nothing left but indigo and Chinese white, and could only do moonlight scenes, which are always depressing to look at, and not at all easy to paint. I never told on you, though I was very much annoyed, and it was most ridiculous, the whole thing; for who ever heard of emerald-green blood?"

"Well, really," said the Ghost, rather meekly, "what was I to do? It is a very difficult thing to get real blood nowadays, and, as your brother began it all with his Paragon Detergent, I certainly saw no reason why I should not have your paints. As for colour, that is always a matter of taste: the Cantervilles have blue blood, for instance, the very bluest in England; but I know you Americans don't care for things of this kind."

"You know nothing about it, and the best thing you can do is to emigrate and improve your mind. My father will be only too happy to give you a free passage, and though there is a heavy duty on spirits of every kind, there will be no difficulty about the Custom House, as the officers are all Democrats. Once in New York, you are sure to be a great success. I know lots of people there who would give a hundred thousand dollars to have a grandfather, and much more than that to have a family ghost."

"I don't think I should like America."

"I suppose because we have no ruins and no curiosities," said Virginia, satirically.

"No ruins! no curiosities!" answered the Ghost; "you have your navy and your manners."

"Good evening; I will go and ask papa to get the twins an extra week's holiday."

"Please don't go, Miss Virginia," he cried; "I am so lonely and so unhappy, and I really don't know what to do. I want to go to sleep and I cannot."

"That's quite absurd! You have merely to go to bed and blow out the candle. It is very difficult sometimes to keep awake, especially at church, but there is no difficulty at all about sleeping. Why, even babies know how to do that, and they are not very clever."

"I have not slept for three hundred years," he said sadly, and Virginia's beautiful blue eyes opened in wonder; "for three hundred years I have not slept, and I am so tired."

Virginia grew quite grave, and her little lips trembled like rose-leaves. She came towards him, and kneeling down at his side, looked up into his old withered face.

"Poor, poor Ghost," she murmured; "have you no place where you can sleep?"

"Far away beyond the pine-woods," he answered, in a low, dreamy voice, "there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold crystal moon looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers."

Virginia's eyes grew dim with tears, and she hid her face in her hands.

"You mean the Garden of Death," she whispered.

"Yes, death. Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace. You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death's house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is."

Virginia trembled, a cold shudder ran through her, and for a few moments there was silence. She felt as if she was in a terrible dream.

Then the ghost spoke again, and his voice sounded like the sighing of the wind.

"Have you ever read the old prophecy on the library window?"

"Oh, often," cried the little girl, looking up; "I know it quite well. It is painted in curious black letters, and is difficult to read. There are only six lines:

     'When a golden girl can win
     Prayer from out the lips of sin,
     When the barren almond bears,
     And a little child gives away its tears,
     Then shall all the house be still
     And peace come to Canterville.'

But I don't know what they mean."

"They mean," he said, sadly, "that you must weep with me for my sins, because I have no tears, and pray with me for my soul, because I have no faith, and then, if you have always been sweet, and good, and gentle, the angel of death will have mercy on me. You will see fearful shapes in darkness, and wicked voices will whisper in your ear, but they will not harm you, for against the purity of a little child the powers of Hell cannot prevail."

Virginia made no answer, and the ghost wrung his hands in wild despair as he looked down at her bowed golden head. Suddenly she stood up, very pale, and with a strange light in her eyes. "I am not afraid," she said firmly, "and I will ask the angel to have mercy on you."

He rose from his seat with a faint cry of joy, and taking her hand bent over it with old-fashioned grace and kissed it. His fingers were as cold as ice, and his lips burned like fire, but Virginia did not falter, as he led her across the dusky room. On the faded green tapestry were broidered little huntsmen. They blew their tasselled horns and with their tiny hands waved to her to go back. "Go back! little Virginia," they cried, "go back!" but the ghost clutched her hand more tightly, and she shut her eyes against them. Horrible animals with lizard tails and goggle eyes blinked at her from the carven chimneypiece, and murmured, "Beware! little Virginia, beware! we may never see you again," but the Ghost glided on more swiftly, and Virginia did not listen. When they reached the end of the room he stopped, and muttered some words she could not understand. She opened her eyes, and saw the wall slowly fading away like a mist, and a great black cavern in front of her. A bitter cold wind swept round them, and she felt something pulling at her dress. "Quick, quick," cried the Ghost, "or it will be too late," and in a moment the wainscoting had closed behind them, and the Tapestry Chamber was empty.


  1. Virginia fearlessly resolves to help Sir Simon. Her actions serve as point of reconciliation between American and British values because Virginia has accepted the aesthetics of the ghost and combined them with her own American practicality and hope for a better future. Wilde uses her as a character open to the past and present, one who can atone for ancient sins and represent a optimistic future.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  2. Virginia initially doesn't accept Sir Simon's version of events, but she eventually comes to pity him. While Wilde treats the other themes of culture class and aesthetics more comically in this story, this section marks a transition to his more serious theme of atonement and forgiveness.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  3. Similar to the hemlock, the yew-tree also has a connection to death, folklore, and superstition. This coniferous tree produces red, berrylike fruit that is highly poisonous.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  4. Hemlock is a poisonous herb that has purple-colored spots with finely cut leaves and small white flowers. While it can be used medicinally as a powerful sedative, it can also be brewed into a poison that can kill. The plant itself has strong association with death, which is why Sir Simon uses it here to describe the place where he can sleep.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  5. Since Sir Simon is already dead, he cannot sleep in the sense that Virginia can. It takes her a moment to understand that by "sleep" Sir Simon means being finally at peace beyond death.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  6. The ghost's response is a good example of verbal irony as he responds to Virginia's satirical comment in kind. Sir Simon equates ruins with the United States' navy and curiosities with American manners, implying that the US has never matched the sea power of England nor understands true civility like the English.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  7. Saying that someone has blue blood is akin to calling them an aristocrat or a noble. "Blue blood" typically characterizes old, noble, and aristocratic families or anyone with upper-class birth or lineage.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  8. This line reveals that Virginia, like Sir Simon, is an artist and more understanding of his understanding of aesthetics. Even as Sir Simon stole her paints, she continued her art, working with the materials she had available even if it compelled her to paint gloomy, depressing scenes.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  9. Aside from referring to typical behavior, the word "habit" can be used as a synonym for "clothes," referring to any kind of clothing or garment that someone is wearing. When used this way, the word can often be used with an adjective to describe the kind of attire being worn, such as a riding habit.

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  10. Wild, through Virigina, is having a little fun with the multiple meanings of "spirits." Distilled alcohol can be referred to as "spirits" and such goods are typically taxed (a duty) at high rates when being imported or exported. Since Sir Simon the ghost is also a "spirit," Virginia is suggesting that he would fall under this duty tax as well (if it weren't for the lax policy of the custom house Demoncrats).

    — Wesley, Owl Eyes Editor
  11. Wide or protuberant eyes, thrusting outward from the surface of the face. 

    — Susan Hurn
  12. The angel of death is described in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam as an angel that brings death and sometimes destruction. In popular conceptions of this figure, the angel of death is known as the Grim Reaper.

    — Susan Hurn
  13. Large doors or gates through which one passes to enter a building.

    — Susan Hurn
  14. A poisonous herb with finely cut leaves and small white flowers.

    — Susan Hurn
  15. A custom house is a building occupied by government officials who supervise the import and export of goods into and out of a country; a port of entry. 

    — Susan Hurn
  16. "Ruffs" are stiffly starched frilled or pleated circular collars of lace, muslin, or other fine fabric, which were worn by men and women in the 16th and 17th centuries.

    — Susan Hurn
  17. This is an allusion to the Puritans, a Protestant sect known for being strict and serious in attitude and behavior. Puritans first immigrated to America in the 1600s aboard the Mayflower and settled in New England.

    — Susan Hurn
  18. In earlier centuries, a "cavalier" was a man who escorted and protected women. It also meant a kind of soldier. In this context, it refers to the Duke of Cheshire and his courtly behavior around Virginia.

    — Susan Hurn