Chapter Two

Chapter Two of Bram Stoker's Dracula edited by Amy Thiessen. Chapter Two of Bram Stoker’s Dracula utilizes extensive scene setting to begin to form the tone, emotion, and expectations of the narrative to follow. As Jonathan Harker is the first character to move through Transylvania to Castle Dracula, and to meet the resident vampire, Dracula, he will become the eyes through which readers first encounter the supernatural world Stoker has written into existence.

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                <title>Chapter Two, Bram Stoker's Dracula</title>
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                    <persName ref="#AmyT">Amy Thiessen </persName>
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                        <persName ref="#Stoker">Stoker, Bram </persName></author><title>The Project
                        Gutenberg Ebook of Dracula</title><publisher>Project
                        Gutenberg</publisher><date>2013</date>
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            <div>
                <head>Introduction, by <persName ref="#AmyT">Amy Thiessen</persName>, Editor. </head>
                <p> Chapter Two of <persName ref="#Stoker">Bram Stoker’s</persName>
                    <title>Dracula</title> utilizes extensive scene setting to begin to form the
                    tone, emotion, and expectations of the narrative to follow. As <persName
                        ref="#Jonathan">Jonathan Harker</persName> is the first character to move
                    through <placeName ref="#Transylvania">Transylvania</placeName> to <placeName
                        ref="#CaslteDracula">Castle Dracula</placeName>, and to meet the resident
                    vampire, <persName ref="#Dracula">Dracula</persName>, he will become the eyes
                    through which readers first encounter the supernatural world <persName
                        ref="#Stoker">Stoker</persName> has written into existence. It will quickly
                    become evident that elements of both myth and reality are braided together to
                    create a unique experience for <persName ref="#Stoker">Stoker's</persName>
                    characters and readers alike.<persName ref="#Jonathan"> Harker</persName> will
                    journey through time and space in ways that will heighten readers perception of
                    the mythical world while simultaneously grounding the story in reality. Chapter
                    Two will instigate the chaos and mayhem that will launch the characters of this
                    novel into their tragic, thrilling, investigative journey.</p>
            </div>
            <div>
                <head>
                    <persName ref="#Jonathan"> JONATHAN HARKER’S</persName> JOURNAL—continued</head>

                <p><date when="--05-05">5 May</date>.—I must have been asleep, for certainly if I
                    had been fully awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable
                        <placeName ref="#CastleDracula"> place.</placeName> In the gloom the
                    courtyard looked of considerable size, and as several dark ways led from it
                    under great round arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not
                    yet been able to see it by daylight. </p>
                <p>When the calèche stopped, the <persName ref="#Dracula">driver </persName> jumped
                    down and held out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice
                    his prodigious strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could
                    have crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he took out my traps, and placed them
                    on the ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, old and studded with
                    large iron nails, and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could see
                    even in the dim light that the stone was massively carved, but that the carving
                    had been much worn by time and weather. As I stood, the driver jumped again into
                    his seat and shook the reins; the horses started forward, and trap and all
                    disappeared down one of the dark openings. </p>
                <p>I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of bell or knocker
                    there was no sign; through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was
                    not likely that my voice could penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and
                    I felt doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of <geogName
                        ref="#Transylvania">place</geogName> had I come to, and among what kind of
                    people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? Was this a
                    customary incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the
                    purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor’s clerk! <persName
                        ref="#MinaMurray">Mina </persName> would not like that. Solicitor just
                    before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am
                    now a full-blown solicitor! I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I
                    were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I
                    should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in
                    through the windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of
                    overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be
                    deceived. I was indeed awake and among the <geogName>Carpathians.</geogName> All
                    I could do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of the morning.</p>
                <p>Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind the
                    great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there
                    was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A
                    key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door
                    swung back. </p>
                <p> Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and
                    clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him
                    anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned
                    without chimney or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it
                    flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his
                    right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a
                    strange intonation:— </p>
                <p><q>Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!</q> He made no motion
                    of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of
                    welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, however, that I had stepped over
                    the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped
                    mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by
                    the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a
                    living man. Again he said:—</p>
                <p><q>Welcome to my house. <ref target="#Note1">Come Freely.</ref> Go safely; and
                        leave something of the happiness you bring!</q>The strength of the handshake
                    was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not
                    seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was
                    speaking; so to make sure, I said interrogatively:— </p>
                <p><q><persName ref="#Dracula">Count Dracula?</persName></q> He bowed in a courtly
                    way as he replied:—</p>
                <p><q>I am <persName ref="#Dracula">Dracula</persName>; and I bid you welcome,
                            <persName ref="#Jonathan">Mr. Harker</persName>, to my house. Come in;
                        the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest.</q> As he was
                    speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my
                    luggage; he had carried it in before I could forestall him. I protested but he
                    insisted:— </p>
                <p><q>Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. Let
                        me see to your comfort myself.</q> He insisted on carrying my traps along
                    the passage, and then up a great winding stair, and along another great passage,
                    on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily. At the end of this he threw open a
                    heavy door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table was
                    spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly
                    replenished, flamed and flared. </p>
                <p><persName ref="#Dracula">The Count</persName> halted, putting down my bags,
                    closed the door, and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a
                    small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any
                    sort. Passing through this, he opened another door, and motioned me to enter. It
                    was a welcome sight; for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with
                    another log fire,—also added to but lately, for the top logs were fresh—which
                    sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count himself left my luggage inside
                    and withdrew, saying, before he closed the door:—</p>
                <p><q>You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your toilet.
                        I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other
                        room, where you will find your supper prepared.</q></p>
                <p>The light and warmth and the <persName ref="#Dracula">Count’s</persName>
                    courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then
                    reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished with hunger; so
                    making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room. </p>
                <p>I found supper already laid out. <persName ref="#Dracula"> My host,</persName>
                    who stood on one side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework,
                    made a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said:—</p>
                <p><q>I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I trust, excuse me
                        that I do not join you; but I have dined already, and I do not sup.</q></p>
                <p>I handed to him the sealed letter which <persName>Mr. Hawkins</persName> had
                    entrusted to me. He opened it and read it gravely; then, with a charming smile,
                    he handed it to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill of
                    pleasure.</p>
                <p><q>I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant
                        sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to
                        come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom
                        I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and
                        talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet
                        and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to
                        attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your
                        instructions in all matters.</q></p>
                <p><persName ref="#Dracula">The Count</persName> himself came forward and took off
                    the cover of a dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This,
                    with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two
                    glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating it <persName ref="#Dracula"
                        >the Count</persName> asked me many questions as to my journey, and I told
                    him by degrees <ref target="#Note2">all I had experienced.</ref></p>
                <p>By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’s desire had drawn up a
                    chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same
                    time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of
                    observing him, and found him of a very marked physiognomy. </p>
                <p>His face was a strong—a very strong—aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose
                    and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing
                    scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very
                    massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl
                    in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy
                    moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white
                    teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed
                    astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale,
                    and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks
                    firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.</p>
                <p>Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in the
                    firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine; but seeing them now close
                    to me, I could not but notice that they were rather coarse—broad, with squat
                    fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails
                    were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As <persName ref="#Dracula"> the
                        Count</persName> leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not
                    repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible
                    feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal.
                        <persName ref="#Dracula">The Count</persName>, evidently noticing it, drew
                    back; and with a grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his
                    protuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of the fireplace. We
                    were both silent for a while; and as I looked towards the window I saw the first
                    dim streak of the coming <date when="--05-07"> dawn </date>. There seemed a
                    strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down
                    below in the valley the howling of many wolves. <persName ref="#Dracula">The
                        Count’s</persName> eyes gleamed, and he said:—</p>
                <p><q>Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make!</q> Seeing, I
                    suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he added:—</p>
                <p><q>Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the
                        hunter.</q> Then he rose and said:—</p>
                <p><q>But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and <date when="--05-07">
                            tomorrow </date> you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away
                        till the <date when="--05-07">afternoon </date>; so sleep well and dream
                        well!</q> With a courteous bow, he opened for me himself the door to the
                    octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom....</p>
                <p>I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I
                    dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear
                    to me!</p>
                <div>
                    <p><date when="--05-07"> 7 May.</date>—It is again early morning, but I have
                        rested and enjoyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day,
                        and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room
                        where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept
                        hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on
                        which was written:—</p>
                    <p><q>I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me.—<persName
                                ref="#Dracula">D.</persName></q> I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal.
                        When I had done, I looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know
                        I had finished; but I could not find one. There are certainly odd
                        deficiencies in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth
                        which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beautifully wrought
                        that it must be of immense value. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs
                        and sofas and the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and most beautiful
                        fabrics, and must have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they
                        are centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like them in
                            <placeName>Hampton Court</placeName> there they were worn and frayed and
                        moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is not
                        even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the little shaving glass
                        from my bag before I could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet
                        seen a servant anywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling
                        of wolves. Some time after I had finished my meal—I do not know whether to
                        call it breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o’clock when I
                        had it—I looked about for something to read, for I did not like to go about
                        the <placeName ref="#CastleDracula">castle</placeName> until I had asked the
                            <persName ref="#Dracula">Count’s</persName> permission. There was
                        absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or even writing materials;
                        so I opened another door in the room and found a sort of library. The door
                        opposite mine I tried, but found it locked.</p>
                    <p>In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English books,
                        whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A
                        table in the centre was littered with English magazines and newspapers,
                        though none of them were of very recent date. The books were of the most
                        varied kind—history, geography, politics, political economy, botany,
                        geology, law—all relating to <placeName>England</placeName> and English life
                        and customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the <ref
                            target="#Note3">
                            <placeName>London Directory</placeName>
                        </ref>
                        <ref target="#Note4">,the “Red” and “Blue” books </ref>
                        <ref target="#Note5">,<persName>Whitaker’s</persName> Almanac, </ref> the
                        Army and Navy Lists, and—it somehow gladdened my heart to see it—the <ref
                            target="#Note6">Law List </ref> .</p>
                    <p>Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the <persName
                            ref="#Dracula"> Count </persName>entered. He saluted me in a hearty way,
                        and hoped that I had had a good night’s rest. Then he went on:—</p>
                    <p><q>I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much that
                            will interest you. These companions</q>—and he laid his hand on some of
                        the books—“have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since
                        I had the idea of going to <placeName>London</placeName>, have given me
                        many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great
                            <placeName>England</placeName>; and to know her is to love her. I long
                        to go through the crowded streets of your mighty
                            <placeName>London</placeName>, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush
                        of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it
                        what it is. But alas! as yet I only know your tongue through books. To you,
                        my friend, I look that I know it to speak.”</p>
                    <p><q>But, <persName ref="#Dracula">Count</persName>,</q> I said, <q>you know
                            and speak English thoroughly!</q> He bowed gravely.</p>
                    <p><q>I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate, but yet I
                            fear that I am but a little way on the road I would travel. True, I know
                            the grammar and the words, but yet I know not how to speak them.</q></p>
                    <p><q>Indeed,</q> I said, <q>you speak excellently.</q></p>
                    <p><q>Not so,</q> he answered. <q>Well, I know that, did I move and speak in
                            your <placeName ref="#London"> London</placeName>, none there are who
                            would not know me for a stranger. That is not enough for me. Here I am
                            noble; I am <foreign>boyar</foreign>; the common people know me, and I
                            am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one; men know him
                            not—and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like the
                            rest, so that no man stops if he see me, or pause in his speaking if he
                            hear my words, <q>Ha, ha! a stranger!</q> I have been so long master
                            that I would be master still—or at least that none other should be
                            master of me. You come to me not alone as agent of my friend
                                <persName>Peter Hawkins</persName>, of
                            <placeName>Exeter</placeName>, to tell me all about my <placeName
                                ref="#Carfax"> new estate</placeName> in <placeName ref="#London"
                                >London</placeName>. You shall, I trust, rest here with me awhile,
                            so that by our talking I may learn the English intonation; and I would
                            that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my
                            speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long to-day; but you will,
                            I know, forgive one who has so many important affairs in hand.</q></p>
                    <p>Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if I might come
                        into that room when I chose. He answered: <q>Yes, certainly,</q> and
                        added:—</p>
                    <p><q>You may go anywhere you wish in the <placeName ref="#CastleDracula"
                                >castle</placeName>, except where the doors are locked, where of
                            course you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as
                            they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you
                            would perhaps better understand.</q> I said I was sure of this, and then
                        he went on:—</p>
                    <p><q>We are in <geogName ref="#Transylvania">Transylvania</geogName>; and
                                <geogName ref="#Transylvania">Transylvania</geogName> is not
                                <placeName>England.</placeName> Our ways are not your ways, and
                            there shall be to you many <ref target="#Note7">strange things </ref> .
                            Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know
                            something of what strange things there may be.</q></p>
                    <p>This led to much conversation; and as it was evident that he wanted to talk,
                        if only for talking’s sake, I asked him many questions regarding things that
                        had already happened to me or come within my notice. Sometimes he sheered
                        off the subject, or turned the conversation by pretending not to understand;
                        but generally he answered all I asked most frankly. Then as time went on,
                        and I had got somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the strange things of
                        the preceding night, as, for instance, why the coachman went to the places
                        where he had seen the blue flames. He then explained to me that it was
                        commonly believed that on a certain night of the year—<ref target="#Note8"
                            >last night </ref>, in fact, when all evil spirits are supposed to have
                        unchecked sway—a blue flame is seen over any place where treasure has been
                        concealed. <q>That treasure has been hidden,</q> he went on, <q>in the
                            region through which you came <ref target="#Note8">last night,</ref>
                            there can be but little doubt; for it was the ground fought over for
                            centuries by the <orgName>Wallachian</orgName>, the
                                <orgName>Saxon</orgName>, and the <orgName>Turk</orgName>. Why,
                            there is hardly a foot of soil in all this <geogName ref="#Transylvania"
                                >region</geogName> that has not been enriched by the blood of men,
                            patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when the
                                <orgName>Austrian</orgName> and the <orgName>Hungarian</orgName>
                            came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them—men and women,
                            the aged and the children too—and waited their coming on the rocks above
                            the passes, that they might sweep destruction on them with their
                            artificial avalanches. When the invader was triumphant he found but
                            little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the friendly
                            soil.</q></p>
                    <p><q>But how,</q> said I, <q>can it have remained so long undiscovered, when
                            there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to
                            look?</q>
                        <persName ref="#Dracula">The Count</persName> smiled, and as his lips ran
                        back over his gums, the long, sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely; he
                        answered:—</p>
                    <p><q>Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames only
                            appear on <ref target="#Note8"> one night </ref>; and on that night no
                            man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And,
                            dear sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the
                            peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not
                            know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would
                            not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?</q></p>
                    <p><q>There you are right,</q> I said. <q>I know no more than the dead where
                            even to look for them.</q> Then we drifted into other matters.</p>
                    <p><q>Come,</q> he said at last, <q>tell me of <placeName>London</placeName> and
                            of the <placeName ref="#Carfax"> house</placeName> which you have
                            procured for me.</q> With an apology for my remissness, I went into my
                        own room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in order I
                        heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and as I passed
                        through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamp lit, for it
                        was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also lit in the study or
                        library, and I found the <persName ref="#Dracula">Count</persName> lying on
                        the sofa, reading, of all things in the world, an <ref target="#Note9">
                            English Bradshaw’s Guide </ref>. When I came in he cleared the books and
                        papers from the table; and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures
                        of all sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked me a myriad
                        questions about the place and its surroundings. He clearly had studied
                        beforehand all he could get on the subject of the neighbourhood, for he
                        evidently at the end knew very much more than I did. When I remarked this,
                        he answered:—</p>
                    <p><q>Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go there I
                            shall be all alone, and my friend <persName ref="Jonathan">Harker
                                Jonathan</persName>—nay, pardon me, I fall into my country’s habit
                            of putting your patronymic first—my friend <persName ref="Jonathan"
                                >Jonathan Harker</persName> will not be by my side to correct and
                            aid me. He will be in <placeName>Exeter</placeName>, miles away,
                            probably working at papers of the law with my other friend,
                                <persName>Peter Hawkins</persName>. So!</q></p>
                    <p>We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the <placeName
                            ref="#Carfax"> estate at Purfleet </placeName>. When I had told him the
                        facts and got his signature to the necessary papers, and had written a
                        letter with them ready to post to <persName>Mr. Hawkins,</persName> he began
                        to ask me how I had come across so suitable a place. I read to him the notes
                        which I had made at the time, and which I inscribe here:—</p>
                    <p><q>At <placeName ref="#Carfax">Purfleet</placeName>, on a by-road, I came
                            across just such a place as seemed to be required, and where was
                            displayed a dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It is
                            surrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure, built of heavy stones,
                            and has not been repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates
                            are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust.</q></p>
                    <p><q>The estate is called <placeName ref="#Carfax"> Carfax</placeName>, no
                            doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four-sided,
                            agreeing with the cardinal points of the compass. It contains in all
                            some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above
                            mentioned. There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy,
                            and there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by
                            some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized
                            stream. The house is very large and of all periods back, I should say,
                            to mediæval times, for one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a
                            few windows high up and heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of
                            a keep, and is close to an old chapel or church. I could not enter it,
                            as I had not the key of the door leading to it from the house, but I
                            have taken with my kodak views of it from various points. The house has
                            been added to, but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the
                            amount of ground it covers, which must be very great. There are but few
                            houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently added
                            to and formed into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible
                            from the grounds.</q></p>
                    <p>When I had finished, he said:</p>
                    <p><q>I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to
                            live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a
                            day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice
                            also that there is a chapel of old times. We <geogName
                                ref="#Transylvania">Transylvanian</geogName> nobles love not to
                            think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety
                            nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling
                            waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my
                            heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to
                            mirth. Moreover, the walls of my <placeName ref="#CastleDracula">castle
                            </placeName> are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes
                            cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and
                            the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may.</q> Somehow
                        his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else it was that his cast
                        of face made his smile look malignant and saturnine.</p>
                    <p>Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to put all my papers
                        together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some of the
                        books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened naturally at
                            <placeName>England</placeName>, as if that map had been much used. On
                        looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on
                        examining these I noticed that one was near London on the east side,
                        manifestly where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and
                        Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.</p>
                    <p>It was the better part of an hour when <persName ref="#Dracula">the
                            Count</persName> returned. <q>Aha!</q> he said; <q>still at your books?
                            Good! But you must not work always. Come; I am informed that your supper
                            is ready.</q> He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I
                        found an excellent supper ready on the table. <persName ref="#Dracula">The
                            Count</persName> again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being
                        away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I
                        ate. After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and <persName
                            ref="#Dracula">the Count </persName> stayed with me, chatting and asking
                        questions on every conceivable subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was
                        getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under
                        obligation to meet my host’s wishes in every way. I was not sleepy, as the
                        long sleep <date>yesterday <date when="--05-07"/></date> had fortified me;
                        but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the
                        coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They
                        say that people who are near death die generally at the change to the dawn
                        or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, and tied as it were
                        to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it.
                        All at once we heard the crow of a cock coming up with preternatural
                        shrillness through the clear morning <date when="--05-08"/>air; <persName
                            ref="#Dracula">Count Dracula </persName>, jumping to his feet,
                        said:—</p>
                    <p><q>Why, there is the morning <date when="--05-08"/> again! How remiss I am to
                            let you stay up so long. You must make your conversation regarding my
                            dear new country of <placeName>England</placeName> less interesting, so
                            that I may not forget how time flies by us,</q> and, with a courtly bow,
                        he quickly left me.</p>
                    <p>I went into my own room and drew the curtains, but there was little to
                        notice; my window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the warm
                        grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have written of
                        this day.</p>
                </div>
                <div>
                    <p><date when="--05-08">8 May</date>.—I began to fear as I wrote in this book
                        that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail
                        from the first, for there is something so strange about <placeName
                            ref="#CastleDracula">this place </placeName> and all in it that I cannot
                        but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come. It
                        may be that this strange night-existence is telling on me; but would that
                        that were all! If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there
                        is no one. I have only <persName ref="#Dracula">the Count</persName> to
                        speak with, and he!—I fear I am myself the only living soul within the
                        place. Let me be prosaic so far as facts can be; it will help me to bear up,
                        and imagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me say
                        at once how I stand—or seem to.</p>
                    <p>I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not
                        sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was
                        just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard
                        the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good-morning.” I started, for it amazed me
                        that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole
                        room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it
                        at the moment. Having answered <persName ref="#Dracula"> the
                            Count’s</persName> salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I
                        had been mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the man was close
                        to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of
                        him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no
                        sign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming on the
                        top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling
                        of uneasiness which I always have when <persName ref="#Dracula">the
                            Count</persName> is near; but at the instant I saw that the cut had bled
                        a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor,
                        turning as I did so half round to look for some sticking plaster. When
                            <persName ref="#Dracula"> the Count</persName> saw my face, his eyes
                        blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my
                        throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the
                        crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly
                        that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.</p>
                    <p><q>Take care,</q> he said, <q>take care how you cut yourself. It is more
                            dangerous than you think in this country.</q> Then seizing the shaving
                        glass, he went on: <q>And this is the wretched thing that has done the
                            mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!</q> and
                        opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out
                        the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the
                        courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying,
                        for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of
                        the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.</p>
                    <p>When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared; but I could not
                        find <persName ref="#Dracula"> the Count</persName> anywhere. So I
                        breakfasted alone. It is strange that as yet I have not seen <persName
                            ref="#Dracula">the Count</persName> eat or drink. He must be a very
                        peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in <placeName
                            ref="#CastleDracula">the castle</placeName>. I went out on the stairs,
                        and found a room looking towards the South. The view was magnificent, and
                        from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is
                        on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling from the window
                        would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can
                        reach is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there
                        is a chasm. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep
                        gorges through the forests.</p>
                    <p>But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I
                        explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted.
                        In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available
                        exit.</p>
                    <p><placeName ref="#CastleDracula">The castle</placeName> is a veritable prison,
                        and I am a prisoner! </p>
                </div>
            </div>
        </body>
        <back>
            <div>
                <head> Notes </head>
                <note xml:id="Note1"> This remark from <persName ref="#CastleDracula">
                        Dracula</persName> to <q>Come Freely,</q>is confusing the place-myth
                    associated with the <placeName ref="#CastleDracula">Castle</placeName> as it
                    signifies a normal concept that Harker is able to freely enter, or not enter, if
                    he chooses, which is falsly portraying Harker's first interaction with the
                        <placeName ref="#CastleDracula">Castle</placeName> as something natural;
                    while in the actuality of the novel the <placeName ref="#CastleDracula"
                        >Castle</placeName> is a definite supernatural place. </note>
                <note xml:id="Note2"> At this point in the narrative Harker has not fully realized
                    the situation he was in and the company he was keeping. Telling <persName
                        ref="#CastleDracula"> Dracula</persName>a about his journey to the castle
                    and all he had experienced is piling on the myths associated with <geogName
                        ref="#Transylvania">Transylvania</geogName> since Harker is simply remarking
                    on the intense feeling of 'otherness' he had experienced. This mystification of
                    otherness will only increase as the novel goes on, and Jonathan will realize
                    that his fascination with the otherness of the East would be misleading.</note>
                <note xml:id="Note3"> The direct reference to the <title>The
                            <placeName>London</placeName> Directory</title> shows Dracula's interest
                    in the place itself.</note>
                <note xml:id="Note4">Reference to the <title>'Red' and 'Blue' books</title> show
                    Dracula's interest in having a complete knowledge base of
                        <placeName>England</placeName> and his interest in what elements work to
                    ascribe meaning to a place. </note>
                <note xml:id="Note5"> Reference to <title><persName>Whitaker's</persName>
                        Almanack</title>show Dracula's interest in having a complete knowledge base
                    of <placeName>England</placeName> and his interest in what elements work to
                    ascribe meaning to a place. </note>
                <note xml:id="Note6">Reference to <title>The Law List</title>indicates that Dracula
                    is aware that <placeName ref="#London"> London </placeName> is a place 'other'
                    than what he is familiar with, as well as points towards his less-than lawful
                    intentions for the citizens of <placeName ref="#London"> London
                    </placeName>.</note>
                <note xml:id="Note7"> Here, <persName ref="#CastleDracula"> Dracula</persName> is
                    clearly signaling that Transylvania is a truly strange place, and something
                    'other' than Harker has known before. Stoker is making the distinction between
                    myth and reality difficult to place in the way that having <persName
                        ref="#CastleDracula"> Dracula</persName> acknowledge Transylvania as a
                    mystical place perhaps takes away from its position as 'myth' since it can be
                    known.</note>
                <note xml:id="Note8">
                    <q>Emily Gerard, a major source of information used by Bram Stoker in
                        researching Transylvania, noted that St. George’s Day was among the most
                        important of the year, and one that had a number of occult associations. At
                        midnight, the witches would gather for their sabbath and peasants would put
                        up such barriers as hawthorn or garlic to protect their homes and stables
                        against the witches. Many would sleep with their animals in an all-night
                        vigil. Even more than All Saints Eve, St. George’s Day was thought to be the
                        time of the most activity of the spirits of the dead.</q>
                    <bibl>
                        <author>Melton,J Gordon</author><title>The Vampire Book: The Encyclopedia of
                            the Undead</title><publisher>Visible Ink
                                Press</publisher><date>2010-09-01</date><citedRange>pp.604</citedRange>
                    </bibl>
                </note>
            </div>
            <div>
                <head> Places </head>
                <listPlace>
                    <place xml:id="CastleDracula">
                        <placeName> Castle Dracula </placeName>
                        <location>
                            <geogName>Transylvania</geogName>
                        </location>
                        <population>
                            <desc>
                                <persName ref="#Dracula"/></desc>
                        </population>
                        <trait>
                            <desc> Considerably sized courtyard with a number of dark
                                archways</desc>
                            <desc> extensive in size</desc>
                            <note> a sight for supernatrual occurences</note>
                        </trait>
                    </place>
                    <place xml:id="Transylvania">
                        <region>
                            <geogName>Transylvania </geogName>
                            <geogName>Carpathians</geogName>
                        </region>
                        <population>
                            <desc>Saxons, Wallachs, Magyars, Szekelys</desc>
                        </population>
                        <trait>
                            <desc>in the West</desc>
                            <note> Transylvania is the region that participates most heavily in the
                                place myths at work in the novel. It is here where <persName
                                    ref="Jonathan">Harker </persName> first comes to realize that he
                                is no longer in the temporal realm which he previously understood
                                himself to exist within. As Transylvania exists in reality, as it is
                                a fundamentally real place, it works to blur the lines between myth
                                and reality by taking on many characteristics that seem mystical for
                                Harker and the other characters, while remaining a physical space to
                                which they travel.</note>
                        </trait>
                    </place>
                    <place xml:id="Carfax">
                        <placeName> Carfax Estate </placeName>
                        <location>
                            <country>England</country>
                            <placeName>Purfleet</placeName>
                            <affiliation>Dracula's homebase in England</affiliation>
                        </location>
                        <trait>
                            <note>At this point in the novel the Carfax Estate has not been visited
                                by any of the characters, it is only talked about. In this chapter,
                                the way the estate is described and existing in anticipation of
                                Dracula's arrival in England is working to associate a place-myth
                                with the Estate of being something outside of the norms. There is a
                                clear disctintion being made from London at large to this specific
                                estate that will become increasingly important to both the narrative
                                and the overall tone of the novel moving forward. The Carfax Estate
                                will become a place within which the supernatural manifests, and
                                will engage direclty with myth and mystification. </note>
                        </trait>
                    </place>
                    <place xml:id="London">
                        <placeName> London</placeName>
                        <region type="country">England</region>
                        <bloc type="kingdom">United Kingdom or Britain</bloc>
                        <bloc type="union">European Union</bloc>
                        <location>
                            <geo>51.5074 0.1278</geo>
                        </location>
                        <population when="1897-01-01">
                            <desc>6.5 million, approximately</desc>
                        </population>
                        <terrain>
                            <desc>1,572 Square Kilometers</desc>
                        </terrain>
                        <trait>
                            <note>London is the main Western centre present in the novel, and while
                                it seems to exist within complete 'reality,' there are supernatural
                                occurences that still take place within its boundaries, which works
                                to confuse where reality ends and myth begins.</note>
                        </trait>
                    </place>
                </listPlace>
            </div>
            <div>
                <head>People</head>
                <listPerson>
                    <person xml:id="AmyT">
                        <persName>Amy Thiessen</persName>
                        <sex>Female</sex>
                        <birth when="1995-08-11"/>
                        <occupation>Writer/Editor</occupation>
                        <occupation>Undergraduate Student</occupation>
                        <affiliation>UBC Okanagan</affiliation>
                        <affiliation>ENGL305</affiliation>
                    </person>
                    <person xml:id="Stoker">
                        <persName>Bram Stoker</persName>
                        <sex>Male</sex>
                        <birth when="1847-11-08"/>
                        <death when="1912-04-12"/>
                        <occupation>writer</occupation>
                        <event>
                            <desc> published Dracula <date when="1897"/></desc>
                        </event>
                    </person>
                    <person xml:id="MinaMurray">
                        <persName>Mina Murray Harker</persName>
                        <langKnowledge>
                            <langKnown tag="English"/>
                        </langKnowledge>
                        <affiliation> a school teacher, married to Jonathan Harker </affiliation>
                        <residence>
                            <placeName>
                                <region> Whitby </region>
                            </placeName>
                            <country> England</country>
                        </residence>
                        <sex value="F"> Female</sex>
                        <state type="nationality">
                            <label> Nationality </label>
                            <desc> British citizen </desc>
                        </state>
                    </person>
                    <person xml:id="Dracula">
                        <persName> Count Dracula</persName>
                        <sex>Male</sex>
                        <langKnowledge>
                            <langKnown tag="en"/>
                        </langKnowledge>
                        <residence>
                            <placeName> Castle Dracula</placeName> in
                                <geogName>Transylvania</geogName>
                            <placeName> Carfax Estate at Purfleet in <country>England</country>
                            </placeName>
                        </residence>
                        <death>--11-06</death>
                        <trait>
                            <desc> Aquiline face with thin nose and lofty domed forehead, massive
                                eyebrows and a heavy mustache, very sharp white teeth that protrude
                                over the lips.</desc>
                        </trait>
                    </person>
                    <person xml:id="Jonathan" role="Solicitor">
                        <persName>Jonathan Harker</persName>
                        <sex>Male</sex>
                        <nationality>English</nationality>
                        <socecStatus>Clerk</socecStatus>
                        <residence>Europe</residence>
                        <langKnowledge>
                            <langKnown level="fluent" tag="en"/>
                        </langKnowledge>
                        <trait type="personality">
                            <desc> Determined </desc>
                        </trait>
                    </person>
                </listPerson>
            </div>
        </back>
    </text>
</TEI>
Chapter Two, Bram Stoker's Dracula Amy Thiessen ENGL305/DIHU301 Stoker, Bram The Project Gutenberg Ebook of Dracula Project Gutenberg 2013
Introduction, by Amy Thiessen, Editor.

Chapter Two of Bram Stoker’s Dracula utilizes extensive scene setting to begin to form the tone, emotion, and expectations of the narrative to follow. As Jonathan Harker is the first character to move through Transylvania to Castle Dracula, and to meet the resident vampire, Dracula, he will become the eyes through which readers first encounter the supernatural world Stoker has written into existence. It will quickly become evident that elements of both myth and reality are braided together to create a unique experience for Stoker's characters and readers alike. Harker will journey through time and space in ways that will heighten readers perception of the mythical world while simultaneously grounding the story in reality. Chapter Two will instigate the chaos and mayhem that will launch the characters of this novel into their tragic, thrilling, investigative journey.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL—continued

5 May.—I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable place. In the gloom the courtyard looked of considerable size, and as several dark ways led from it under great round arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not yet been able to see it by daylight.

When the calèche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice his prodigious strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could have crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he took out my traps, and placed them on the ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, old and studded with large iron nails, and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could see even in the dim light that the stone was massively carved, but that the carving had been much worn by time and weather. As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat and shook the reins; the horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared down one of the dark openings.

I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of bell or knocker there was no sign; through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor’s clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now a full-blown solicitor! I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of the morning.

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without chimney or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange intonation:—

Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will! He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said:—

Welcome to my house. Come Freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring!The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking; so to make sure, I said interrogatively:—

Count Dracula? He bowed in a courtly way as he replied:—

I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in; the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest. As he was speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage; he had carried it in before I could forestall him. I protested but he insisted:—

Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself. He insisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair, and along another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened another door, and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight; for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with another log fire,—also added to but lately, for the top logs were fresh—which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he closed the door:—

You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared.

The light and warmth and the Count’s courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished with hunger; so making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.

I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said:—

I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I trust, excuse me that I do not join you; but I have dined already, and I do not sup.

I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had entrusted to me. He opened it and read it gravely; then, with a charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.

I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.

The Count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating it the Count asked me many questions as to my journey, and I told him by degrees all I had experienced.

By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’s desire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and found him of a very marked physiognomy.

His face was a strong—a very strong—aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine; but seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice that they were rather coarse—broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his protuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were both silent for a while; and as I looked towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn . There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said:—

Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make! Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he added:—

Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter. Then he rose and said:—

But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and tomorrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon ; so sleep well and dream well! With a courteous bow, he opened for me himself the door to the octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom....

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!

7 May.—It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day, and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on which was written:—

I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me.—D. I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had finished; but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beautifully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they are centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like them in Hampton Court there they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before I could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time after I had finished my meal—I do not know whether to call it breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o’clock when I had it—I looked about for something to read, for I did not like to go about the castle until I had asked the Count’s permission. There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or even writing materials; so I opened another door in the room and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried, but found it locked.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A table in the centre was littered with English magazines and newspapers, though none of them were of very recent date. The books were of the most varied kind—history, geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology, law—all relating to England and English life and customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the London Directory ,the “Red” and “Blue” books ,Whitaker’s Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and—it somehow gladdened my heart to see it—the Law List .

Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Count entered. He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that I had had a good night’s rest. Then he went on:—

I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much that will interest you. These companions—and he laid his hand on some of the books—“have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England; and to know her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it what it is. But alas! as yet I only know your tongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that I know it to speak.”

But, Count, I said, you know and speak English thoroughly! He bowed gravely.

I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate, but yet I fear that I am but a little way on the road I would travel. True, I know the grammar and the words, but yet I know not how to speak them.

Indeed, I said, you speak excellently.

Not so, he answered. Well, I know that, did I move and speak in your London, none there are who would not know me for a stranger. That is not enough for me. Here I am noble; I am boyar; the common people know me, and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one; men know him not—and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he see me, or pause in his speaking if he hear my words, Ha, ha! a stranger! I have been so long master that I would be master still—or at least that none other should be master of me. You come to me not alone as agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my new estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me awhile, so that by our talking I may learn the English intonation; and I would that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long to-day; but you will, I know, forgive one who has so many important affairs in hand.

Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if I might come into that room when I chose. He answered: Yes, certainly, and added:—

You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand. I said I was sure of this, and then he went on:—

We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things . Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be.

This led to much conversation; and as it was evident that he wanted to talk, if only for talking’s sake, I asked him many questions regarding things that had already happened to me or come within my notice. Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation by pretending not to understand; but generally he answered all I asked most frankly. Then as time went on, and I had got somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the strange things of the preceding night, as, for instance, why the coachman went to the places where he had seen the blue flames. He then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on a certain night of the year—last night , in fact, when all evil spirits are supposed to have unchecked sway—a blue flame is seen over any place where treasure has been concealed. That treasure has been hidden, he went on, in the region through which you came last night, there can be but little doubt; for it was the ground fought over for centuries by the Wallachian, the Saxon, and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when the Austrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them—men and women, the aged and the children too—and waited their coming on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweep destruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader was triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the friendly soil.

But how, said I, can it have remained so long undiscovered, when there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look? The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long, sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely; he answered:—

Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames only appear on one night ; and on that night no man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?

There you are right, I said. I know no more than the dead where even to look for them. Then we drifted into other matters.

Come, he said at last, tell me of London and of the house which you have procured for me. With an apology for my remissness, I went into my own room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in order I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and as I passed through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamp lit, for it was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also lit in the study or library, and I found the Count lying on the sofa, reading, of all things in the world, an English Bradshaw’s Guide . When I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table; and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked me a myriad questions about the place and its surroundings. He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on the subject of the neighbourhood, for he evidently at the end knew very much more than I did. When I remarked this, he answered:—

Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan—nay, pardon me, I fall into my country’s habit of putting your patronymic first—my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid me. He will be in Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of the law with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So!

We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate at Purfleet . When I had told him the facts and got his signature to the necessary papers, and had written a letter with them ready to post to Mr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how I had come across so suitable a place. I read to him the notes which I had made at the time, and which I inscribe here:—

At Purfleet, on a by-road, I came across just such a place as seemed to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It is surrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust.

The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four-sided, agreeing with the cardinal points of the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of all periods back, I should say, to mediæval times, for one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my kodak views of it from various points. The house has been added to, but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the grounds.

When I had finished, he said:

I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may. Somehow his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else it was that his cast of face made his smile look malignant and saturnine.

Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to put all my papers together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened naturally at England, as if that map had been much used. On looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. Aha! he said; still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; I am informed that your supper is ready. He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate. After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed with me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host’s wishes in every way. I was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified me; but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to the dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it. All at once we heard the crow of a cock coming up with preternatural shrillness through the clear morning air; Count Dracula , jumping to his feet, said:—

Why, there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up so long. You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us, and, with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.

I went into my own room and drew the curtains, but there was little to notice; my window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have written of this day.

8 May.—I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come. It may be that this strange night-existence is telling on me; but would that that were all! If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he!—I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. Let me be prosaic so far as facts can be; it will help me to bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me say at once how I stand—or seem to.

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good-morning.” I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count’s salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near; but at the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I did so half round to look for some sticking plaster. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

Take care, he said, take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country. Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on: And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it! and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.

When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared; but I could not find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone. It is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castle. I went out on the stairs, and found a room looking towards the South. The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests.

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit.

The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

Notes This remark from Dracula to Come Freely,is confusing the place-myth associated with the Castle as it signifies a normal concept that Harker is able to freely enter, or not enter, if he chooses, which is falsly portraying Harker's first interaction with the Castle as something natural; while in the actuality of the novel the Castle is a definite supernatural place. At this point in the narrative Harker has not fully realized the situation he was in and the company he was keeping. Telling Draculaa about his journey to the castle and all he had experienced is piling on the myths associated with Transylvania since Harker is simply remarking on the intense feeling of 'otherness' he had experienced. This mystification of otherness will only increase as the novel goes on, and Jonathan will realize that his fascination with the otherness of the East would be misleading. The direct reference to the The London Directory shows Dracula's interest in the place itself. Reference to the 'Red' and 'Blue' books show Dracula's interest in having a complete knowledge base of England and his interest in what elements work to ascribe meaning to a place. Reference to Whitaker's Almanackshow Dracula's interest in having a complete knowledge base of England and his interest in what elements work to ascribe meaning to a place. Reference to The Law Listindicates that Dracula is aware that London is a place 'other' than what he is familiar with, as well as points towards his less-than lawful intentions for the citizens of London . Here, Dracula is clearly signaling that Transylvania is a truly strange place, and something 'other' than Harker has known before. Stoker is making the distinction between myth and reality difficult to place in the way that having Dracula acknowledge Transylvania as a mystical place perhaps takes away from its position as 'myth' since it can be known. Emily Gerard, a major source of information used by Bram Stoker in researching Transylvania, noted that St. George’s Day was among the most important of the year, and one that had a number of occult associations. At midnight, the witches would gather for their sabbath and peasants would put up such barriers as hawthorn or garlic to protect their homes and stables against the witches. Many would sleep with their animals in an all-night vigil. Even more than All Saints Eve, St. George’s Day was thought to be the time of the most activity of the spirits of the dead. Melton,J Gordon The Vampire Book: The Encyclopedia of the Undead Visible Ink Press 2010-09-01 pp.604
Places
People

Amy Thiessen

Female

1995-08-11

UBC OkanaganENGL305

Writer/EditorUndergraduate Student

Bram Stoker

Male

1847-11-08

1912-04-12

published Dracula

writer

Jonathan Harker

Male

English

Europe

Clerk

Determined

Transylvania

Saxons, Wallachs, Magyars, Szekelys

Transylvania Carpathians

in the West Transylvania is the region that participates most heavily in the place myths at work in the novel. It is here where first comes to realize that he is no longer in the temporal realm which he previously understood himself to exist within. As Transylvania exists in reality, as it is a fundamentally real place, it works to blur the lines between myth and reality by taking on many characteristics that seem mystical for Harker and the other characters, while remaining a physical space to which they travel.

Count Dracula

Male

--11-06

in Transylvania

Aquiline face with thin nose and lofty domed forehead, massive eyebrows and a heavy mustache, very sharp white teeth that protrude over the lips.

Castle Dracula

Transylvania

Considerably sized courtyard with a number of dark archways extensive in size a sight for supernatrual occurences

Mina Murray Harker

Female

a school teacher, married to Jonathan Harker

England

British citizen

London

51.5074 0.1278

United Kingdom or BritainEuropean Union

1897-01-01 6.5 million, approximately

England

1,572 Square Kilometers

London is the main Western centre present in the novel, and while it seems to exist within complete 'reality,' there are supernatural occurences that still take place within its boundaries, which works to confuse where reality ends and myth begins.

Carfax Estate

England Dracula's homebase in England

At this point in the novel the Carfax Estate has not been visited by any of the characters, it is only talked about. In this chapter, the way the estate is described and existing in anticipation of Dracula's arrival in England is working to associate a place-myth with the Estate of being something outside of the norms. There is a clear disctintion being made from London at large to this specific estate that will become increasingly important to both the narrative and the overall tone of the novel moving forward. The Carfax Estate will become a place within which the supernatural manifests, and will engage direclty with myth and mystification.

Jonathan Harker

Male

English

Europe

Clerk

Determined

Toolbox

Themes:

Chapter Two, Bram Stoker's Dracula Amy Thiessen ENGL305/DIHU301 Stoker, Bram The Project Gutenberg Ebook of Dracula Project Gutenberg 2013
Introduction, by Amy Thiessen, Editor.

Chapter Two of Bram Stoker’s Dracula utilizes extensive scene setting to begin to form the tone, emotion, and expectations of the narrative to follow. As Jonathan Harker is the first character to move through Transylvania to Castle Dracula, and to meet the resident vampire, Dracula, he will become the eyes through which readers first encounter the supernatural world Stoker has written into existence. It will quickly become evident that elements of both myth and reality are braided together to create a unique experience for Stoker's characters and readers alike. Harker will journey through time and space in ways that will heighten readers perception of the mythical world while simultaneously grounding the story in reality. Chapter Two will instigate the chaos and mayhem that will launch the characters of this novel into their tragic, thrilling, investigative journey.

JONATHAN HARKER’S JOURNAL—continued

5 May.—I must have been asleep, for certainly if I had been fully awake I must have noticed the approach of such a remarkable place. In the gloom the courtyard looked of considerable size, and as several dark ways led from it under great round arches, it perhaps seemed bigger than it really is. I have not yet been able to see it by daylight.

When the calèche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand to assist me to alight. Again I could not but notice his prodigious strength. His hand actually seemed like a steel vice that could have crushed mine if he had chosen. Then he took out my traps, and placed them on the ground beside me as I stood close to a great door, old and studded with large iron nails, and set in a projecting doorway of massive stone. I could see even in the dim light that the stone was massively carved, but that the carving had been much worn by time and weather. As I stood, the driver jumped again into his seat and shook the reins; the horses started forward, and trap and all disappeared down one of the dark openings.

I stood in silence where I was, for I did not know what to do. Of bell or knocker there was no sign; through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate. The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor’s clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now a full-blown solicitor! I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of the morning.

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without chimney or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange intonation:—

Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will! He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone. The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a living man. Again he said:—

Welcome to my house. Come Freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring!The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking; so to make sure, I said interrogatively:—

Count Dracula? He bowed in a courtly way as he replied:—

I am Dracula; and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in; the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest. As he was speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage; he had carried it in before I could forestall him. I protested but he insisted:—

Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself. He insisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair, and along another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily. At the end of this he threw open a heavy door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened another door, and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight; for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with another log fire,—also added to but lately, for the top logs were fresh—which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he closed the door:—

You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared.

The light and warmth and the Count’s courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished with hunger; so making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.

I found supper already laid out. My host, who stood on one side of the great fireplace, leaning against the stonework, made a graceful wave of his hand to the table, and said:—

I pray you, be seated and sup how you please. You will, I trust, excuse me that I do not join you; but I have dined already, and I do not sup.

I handed to him the sealed letter which Mr. Hawkins had entrusted to me. He opened it and read it gravely; then, with a charming smile, he handed it to me to read. One passage of it, at least, gave me a thrill of pleasure.

I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.

The Count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper. During the time I was eating it the Count asked me many questions as to my journey, and I told him by degrees all I had experienced.

By this time I had finished my supper, and by my host’s desire had drawn up a chair by the fire and begun to smoke a cigar which he offered me, at the same time excusing himself that he did not smoke. I had now an opportunity of observing him, and found him of a very marked physiognomy.

His face was a strong—a very strong—aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.

Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine; but seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice that they were rather coarse—broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a grim sort of smile, which showed more than he had yet done his protuberant teeth, sat himself down again on his own side of the fireplace. We were both silent for a while; and as I looked towards the window I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn . There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said:—

Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make! Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he added:—

Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter. Then he rose and said:—

But you must be tired. Your bedroom is all ready, and tomorrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I have to be away till the afternoon ; so sleep well and dream well! With a courteous bow, he opened for me himself the door to the octagonal room, and I entered my bedroom....

I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!

7 May.—It is again early morning, but I have rested and enjoyed the last twenty-four hours. I slept till late in the day, and awoke of my own accord. When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on which was written:—

I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me.—D. I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal. When I had done, I looked for a bell, so that I might let the servants know I had finished; but I could not find one. There are certainly odd deficiencies in the house, considering the extraordinary evidences of wealth which are round me. The table service is of gold, and so beautifully wrought that it must be of immense value. The curtains and upholstery of the chairs and sofas and the hangings of my bed are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics, and must have been of fabulous value when they were made, for they are centuries old, though in excellent order. I saw something like them in Hampton Court there they were worn and frayed and moth-eaten. But still in none of the rooms is there a mirror. There is not even a toilet glass on my table, and I had to get the little shaving glass from my bag before I could either shave or brush my hair. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere, or heard a sound near the castle except the howling of wolves. Some time after I had finished my meal—I do not know whether to call it breakfast or dinner, for it was between five and six o’clock when I had it—I looked about for something to read, for I did not like to go about the castle until I had asked the Count’s permission. There was absolutely nothing in the room, book, newspaper, or even writing materials; so I opened another door in the room and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried, but found it locked.

In the library I found, to my great delight, a vast number of English books, whole shelves full of them, and bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. A table in the centre was littered with English magazines and newspapers, though none of them were of very recent date. The books were of the most varied kind—history, geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology, law—all relating to England and English life and customs and manners. There were even such books of reference as the London Directory ,the “Red” and “Blue” books ,Whitaker’s Almanac, the Army and Navy Lists, and—it somehow gladdened my heart to see it—the Law List .

Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened, and the Count entered. He saluted me in a hearty way, and hoped that I had had a good night’s rest. Then he went on:—

I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much that will interest you. These companions—and he laid his hand on some of the books—“have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England; and to know her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it what it is. But alas! as yet I only know your tongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that I know it to speak.”

But, Count, I said, you know and speak English thoroughly! He bowed gravely.

I thank you, my friend, for your all too-flattering estimate, but yet I fear that I am but a little way on the road I would travel. True, I know the grammar and the words, but yet I know not how to speak them.

Indeed, I said, you speak excellently.

Not so, he answered. Well, I know that, did I move and speak in your London, none there are who would not know me for a stranger. That is not enough for me. Here I am noble; I am boyar; the common people know me, and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one; men know him not—and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he see me, or pause in his speaking if he hear my words, Ha, ha! a stranger! I have been so long master that I would be master still—or at least that none other should be master of me. You come to me not alone as agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my new estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me awhile, so that by our talking I may learn the English intonation; and I would that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long to-day; but you will, I know, forgive one who has so many important affairs in hand.

Of course I said all I could about being willing, and asked if I might come into that room when I chose. He answered: Yes, certainly, and added:—

You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand. I said I was sure of this, and then he went on:—

We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things . Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be.

This led to much conversation; and as it was evident that he wanted to talk, if only for talking’s sake, I asked him many questions regarding things that had already happened to me or come within my notice. Sometimes he sheered off the subject, or turned the conversation by pretending not to understand; but generally he answered all I asked most frankly. Then as time went on, and I had got somewhat bolder, I asked him of some of the strange things of the preceding night, as, for instance, why the coachman went to the places where he had seen the blue flames. He then explained to me that it was commonly believed that on a certain night of the year—last night , in fact, when all evil spirits are supposed to have unchecked sway—a blue flame is seen over any place where treasure has been concealed. That treasure has been hidden, he went on, in the region through which you came last night, there can be but little doubt; for it was the ground fought over for centuries by the Wallachian, the Saxon, and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when the Austrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them—men and women, the aged and the children too—and waited their coming on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweep destruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader was triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the friendly soil.

But how, said I, can it have remained so long undiscovered, when there is a sure index to it if men will but take the trouble to look? The Count smiled, and as his lips ran back over his gums, the long, sharp, canine teeth showed out strangely; he answered:—

Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames only appear on one night ; and on that night no man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?

There you are right, I said. I know no more than the dead where even to look for them. Then we drifted into other matters.

Come, he said at last, tell me of London and of the house which you have procured for me. With an apology for my remissness, I went into my own room to get the papers from my bag. Whilst I was placing them in order I heard a rattling of china and silver in the next room, and as I passed through, noticed that the table had been cleared and the lamp lit, for it was by this time deep into the dark. The lamps were also lit in the study or library, and I found the Count lying on the sofa, reading, of all things in the world, an English Bradshaw’s Guide . When I came in he cleared the books and papers from the table; and with him I went into plans and deeds and figures of all sorts. He was interested in everything, and asked me a myriad questions about the place and its surroundings. He clearly had studied beforehand all he could get on the subject of the neighbourhood, for he evidently at the end knew very much more than I did. When I remarked this, he answered:—

Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan—nay, pardon me, I fall into my country’s habit of putting your patronymic first—my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid me. He will be in Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of the law with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So!

We went thoroughly into the business of the purchase of the estate at Purfleet . When I had told him the facts and got his signature to the necessary papers, and had written a letter with them ready to post to Mr. Hawkins, he began to ask me how I had come across so suitable a place. I read to him the notes which I had made at the time, and which I inscribe here:—

At Purfleet, on a by-road, I came across just such a place as seemed to be required, and where was displayed a dilapidated notice that the place was for sale. It is surrounded by a high wall, of ancient structure, built of heavy stones, and has not been repaired for a large number of years. The closed gates are of heavy old oak and iron, all eaten with rust.

The estate is called Carfax, no doubt a corruption of the old Quatre Face, as the house is four-sided, agreeing with the cardinal points of the compass. It contains in all some twenty acres, quite surrounded by the solid stone wall above mentioned. There are many trees on it, which make it in places gloomy, and there is a deep, dark-looking pond or small lake, evidently fed by some springs, as the water is clear and flows away in a fair-sized stream. The house is very large and of all periods back, I should say, to mediæval times, for one part is of stone immensely thick, with only a few windows high up and heavily barred with iron. It looks like part of a keep, and is close to an old chapel or church. I could not enter it, as I had not the key of the door leading to it from the house, but I have taken with my kodak views of it from various points. The house has been added to, but in a very straggling way, and I can only guess at the amount of ground it covers, which must be very great. There are but few houses close at hand, one being a very large house only recently added to and formed into a private lunatic asylum. It is not, however, visible from the grounds.

When I had finished, he said:

I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may. Somehow his words and his look did not seem to accord, or else it was that his cast of face made his smile look malignant and saturnine.

Presently, with an excuse, he left me, asking me to put all my papers together. He was some little time away, and I began to look at some of the books around me. One was an atlas, which I found opened naturally at England, as if that map had been much used. On looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

It was the better part of an hour when the Count returned. Aha! he said; still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; I am informed that your supper is ready. He took my arm, and we went into the next room, where I found an excellent supper ready on the table. The Count again excused himself, as he had dined out on his being away from home. But he sat as on the previous night, and chatted whilst I ate. After supper I smoked, as on the last evening, and the Count stayed with me, chatting and asking questions on every conceivable subject, hour after hour. I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host’s wishes in every way. I was not sleepy, as the long sleep yesterday had fortified me; but I could not help experiencing that chill which comes over one at the coming of the dawn, which is like, in its way, the turn of the tide. They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to the dawn or at the turn of the tide; any one who has when tired, and tied as it were to his post, experienced this change in the atmosphere can well believe it. All at once we heard the crow of a cock coming up with preternatural shrillness through the clear morning air; Count Dracula , jumping to his feet, said:—

Why, there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up so long. You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us, and, with a courtly bow, he quickly left me.

I went into my own room and drew the curtains, but there was little to notice; my window opened into the courtyard, all I could see was the warm grey of quickening sky. So I pulled the curtains again, and have written of this day.

8 May.—I began to fear as I wrote in this book that I was getting too diffuse; but now I am glad that I went into detail from the first, for there is something so strange about this place and all in it that I cannot but feel uneasy. I wish I were safe out of it, or that I had never come. It may be that this strange night-existence is telling on me; but would that that were all! If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he!—I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. Let me be prosaic so far as facts can be; it will help me to bear up, and imagination must not run riot with me. If it does I am lost. Let me say at once how I stand—or seem to.

I only slept a few hours when I went to bed, and feeling that I could not sleep any more, got up. I had hung my shaving glass by the window, and was just beginning to shave. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good-morning.” I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count’s salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near; but at the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I did so half round to look for some sticking plaster. When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

Take care, he said, take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country. Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on: And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it! and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.

When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared; but I could not find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone. It is strange that as yet I have not seen the Count eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man! After breakfast I did a little exploring in the castle. I went out on the stairs, and found a room looking towards the South. The view was magnificent, and from where I stood there was every opportunity of seeing it. The castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything! As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops, with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm. Here and there are silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests.

But I am not in heart to describe beauty, for when I had seen the view I explored further; doors, doors, doors everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit.

The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

Notes This remark from Dracula to Come Freely,is confusing the place-myth associated with the Castle as it signifies a normal concept that Harker is able to freely enter, or not enter, if he chooses, which is falsly portraying Harker's first interaction with the Castle as something natural; while in the actuality of the novel the Castle is a definite supernatural place. At this point in the narrative Harker has not fully realized the situation he was in and the company he was keeping. Telling Draculaa about his journey to the castle and all he had experienced is piling on the myths associated with Transylvania since Harker is simply remarking on the intense feeling of 'otherness' he had experienced. This mystification of otherness will only increase as the novel goes on, and Jonathan will realize that his fascination with the otherness of the East would be misleading. The direct reference to the The London Directory shows Dracula's interest in the place itself. Reference to the 'Red' and 'Blue' books show Dracula's interest in having a complete knowledge base of England and his interest in what elements work to ascribe meaning to a place. Reference to Whitaker's Almanackshow Dracula's interest in having a complete knowledge base of England and his interest in what elements work to ascribe meaning to a place. Reference to The Law Listindicates that Dracula is aware that London is a place 'other' than what he is familiar with, as well as points towards his less-than lawful intentions for the citizens of London . Here, Dracula is clearly signaling that Transylvania is a truly strange place, and something 'other' than Harker has known before. Stoker is making the distinction between myth and reality difficult to place in the way that having Dracula acknowledge Transylvania as a mystical place perhaps takes away from its position as 'myth' since it can be known. Emily Gerard, a major source of information used by Bram Stoker in researching Transylvania, noted that St. George’s Day was among the most important of the year, and one that had a number of occult associations. At midnight, the witches would gather for their sabbath and peasants would put up such barriers as hawthorn or garlic to protect their homes and stables against the witches. Many would sleep with their animals in an all-night vigil. Even more than All Saints Eve, St. George’s Day was thought to be the time of the most activity of the spirits of the dead. Melton,J Gordon The Vampire Book: The Encyclopedia of the Undead Visible Ink Press 2010-09-01 pp.604
Places Castle Dracula Transylvania Considerably sized courtyard with a number of dark archways extensive in size a sight for supernatrual occurences Transylvania Carpathians Saxons, Wallachs, Magyars, Szekelys in the West Transylvania is the region that participates most heavily in the place myths at work in the novel. It is here where Harker first comes to realize that he is no longer in the temporal realm which he previously understood himself to exist within. As Transylvania exists in reality, as it is a fundamentally real place, it works to blur the lines between myth and reality by taking on many characteristics that seem mystical for Harker and the other characters, while remaining a physical space to which they travel. Carfax Estate England Purfleet Dracula's homebase in England At this point in the novel the Carfax Estate has not been visited by any of the characters, it is only talked about. In this chapter, the way the estate is described and existing in anticipation of Dracula's arrival in England is working to associate a place-myth with the Estate of being something outside of the norms. There is a clear disctintion being made from London at large to this specific estate that will become increasingly important to both the narrative and the overall tone of the novel moving forward. The Carfax Estate will become a place within which the supernatural manifests, and will engage direclty with myth and mystification. London England United Kingdom or Britain European Union 51.5074 0.1278 6.5 million, approximately 1,572 Square Kilometers London is the main Western centre present in the novel, and while it seems to exist within complete 'reality,' there are supernatural occurences that still take place within its boundaries, which works to confuse where reality ends and myth begins.
People Amy Thiessen Female Writer/Editor Undergraduate Student UBC Okanagan ENGL305 Bram Stoker Male writer published Dracula Mina Murray Harker a school teacher, married to Jonathan Harker Whitby England Female British citizen Count Dracula Male Castle Dracula in Transylvania Carfax Estate at Purfleet in England --11-06 Aquiline face with thin nose and lofty domed forehead, massive eyebrows and a heavy mustache, very sharp white teeth that protrude over the lips. Jonathan Harker Male English Clerk Europe Determined