Baron Edward Hugessen Knatchbull-Hugessen Brabourne
Uncle Joe's Stories
With such reassuring words did the daughter of the Chief Justice restore courage to the heart of her parent, and he began to look forward with less fear to the banquet at which it had been arranged that he should entertain his royal master. It was to be served in the large banqueting hall of his town house, and great preparations were set on foot for several days before that appointed for the festive gathering. But instead of busying herself about the matter, Ophelia treated it as if it was one wholly indifferent to her, and refused to be troubled about it in any way whatever. It was in vain that the domestics, who were accustomed to take all orders from her, besought her to give various directions upon different questions which arose. She declined altogether; deputing everything to Mrs. Brushemup, the housekeeper; and telling old Winelees, the butler, not to come near her on pain of instant dismissal.
Her own rooms were in a wing of the house which stretched down to the banks of the river already mentioned, and from a private door she could get down upon the banks without coming in sight of the windows of the principal apartments.
But before I relate that which happened to the fair Ophelia at this eventful time, it is but right to inquire what had become of the unhappy families who had already felt the weight of the tyrant Famcram's displeasure. Binks, with his two, and Chinks, with his three daughters, had been cast into the dungeons of the Royal Palace, and the wife of Chinks having been added to the party, greatly increased the misery of all by her continual upbraidings of her husband and his friend as the cause of the misfortune which had befallen their two families, which were all the more hard to bear, because they were totally unreasonable and without foundation.
The dungeons were small, hot, and unsavoury, and the prisoners suffered greatly, especially as the food supplied to them was scanty in quantity and wretched in quality. The young ladies endeavoured to pass away the time in composing epitaphs upon their parents and themselves, which after all did but little towards raising their spirits, being, as such things not uncommonly are, of a somewhat melancholy character. Euphemia and Araminta, however, were so proud of one of their compositions, that it would be a pity that it should be lost to the world: —
"Here lies the minister, great Binks,
No more he for his country thinks;
No more he eats – no more he drinks —
But, conquered by misfortune, sinks."
The daughters of the Lord Chamberlain were scarcely equal to such a poetic effort as the above; but, determined not to be behindhand, presented their parent with the following stanza: —
"Look through these bars with eye of lynx,
And see the chamberlain, Lord Chinks!
He scarce can breathe, and feebly winks,
Quite done to death by prison stinks."
In this manner did the innocent maidens endeavour to lighten the hours of captivity which passed over their heads, and when, upon the second week of their imprisonment, they were moved into larger and more airy apartments, hope at once revived within their drooping bosoms. It must, however, be confessed, that in the midst of their distress both Binks and Chinks contemplated with silent but real satisfaction the probably speedy advent of Pigspud to join them in their prison, and share their sorrows. This event they both regarded as quite certain to occur, and without having any particular ill-feeling towards the Chief Justice, the three had been too long in the position of rivals to make either two sorry for any misfortune that befell the third, especially if it had previously fallen upon themselves.
Leaving these worthies to their expectations, we will now endeavour to discover what was passing at the abode of Pigspud. It was the evening but one before the projected banquet. The shades of evening were fast closing in around the city, and the mists of the river were beginning to rise like vapoury spirits from the water, when the private door of Ophelia's wing was stealthily and quietly opened, and a figure emerged, clothed from head to foot in a cloak of dark gray. Slowly but surely, as one who knew the road well, the figure passed along the low terrace-walk that led down to the bank of the river, and stood at the brink, silently for a few moments, and then began to murmur words in a low tone. A listener, however attentive, could scarcely have made out the meaning of that which Ophelia (for it was none other than the daughter of the house of Pigspud) was reciting, for the language in which she spoke was strange, and her tone somewhat indistinct; —
"Marley-quarley-pachel-farley,
Mansto macken furlesparley,
Mondo pondo sicho pinto,
Framsigalen hannotinto."
Such were the mystic words which issued from the lips of the maiden. Nor was it long before a response was given. A low murmuring sound proceeded from the river, and out of the rushes which fringed the bank there presently arose a form of strange and weird appearance. It was that of an old, a very old woman, with a red cloak wrapped around her, an umbrella in her hand, and a poke bonnet upon the top of her head. She was small, though not much below the ordinary height of a Pigmy; but the most remarkable thing about her was the extreme keenness of her eye, which seemed to pierce you through and through when she fixed it upon you. Slowly she rose from among the rushes, and scrambled, somehow or other, up the bank, until she stood opposite to the maiden who had summoned her. As soon as she had accomplished this feat, she struck her umbrella upon the ground, and remarked in a somewhat masculine tone of voice:
"What is it, Ophelia, and what do you fear,
That you've called your affectionate godmother here?
Has your 'Pa' been unkind? (since no 'Ma' you have got),
Or a lover appeared when you'd rather he'd not?
Are you ill, or unhappy, or is't for a freak
That your godmother's presence you suddenly seek?"
Ophelia listened with respectful attention whilst the old woman uttered these words, and then replied in a low, sweet voice: —
"Did I not deem the crisis grave
I had not called thee from thy wave:
And if in doing so I err,
Forgive me, gracious godmother!
My father knows thee not, great dame;
My mother told me, all the same,
Thou wast my godmother, and so
I love thee in my weal and woe.
O'ercome by cruel destiny,
Poor Binks and Chinks in dungeons lie,
And our bad king – a grievous sin —
Hath likewise put their daughters in.
Dear godmother! 'twere sad, you know,
My father should to prison go;
But sadder still (you'll hardly fail
To see) that I should go to gaol.
Yet is the time but two days hence
When Famcram comes; on some pretence
He'll surely send us both to pris'n,
And make our valuables hisn.
Dear Godmother! Pray leave thy wave
Thy loving god-daughter to save,
Or tell me how, by thy kind aid,
The tyrant's power I may evade!"
Whilst Ophelia was speaking, the old woman kept tapping her umbrella upon the ground in visible wrath, and a frown appearing upon her face, which was otherwise not particularly beautiful, did not greatly improve her personal appearance. As soon as the maiden ceased, she lost not a moment in making her reply: —
"I'm ready, my darling, to do your behest,
For tyrants like Famcram I greatly detest,
And if your good father was not such a dolt,
From the land of the despot he'd speedily bolt.
For Binks and for Chinks I have nothing to say,
And they're probably just as well out of the way;
But as to their daughters – I'm really inclined
To think that the king has gone out of his mind,
And in your case, I'll teach him, as well as I can,
A woman has rights just as much as a man,
And he's vastly mistaken, poor wretch, if he thinks
A god-child of mine is the same as Miss Binks.
Now listen to me: when King Famcram comes here,
Betray not the slightest suspicion of fear,
But enter, quite calmly, the banqueting room
Arrayed in your commonest morning costume.
He'll show irritation; and rage, beyond doubt
(You know he could scarcely be royal without);
But never mind that, tho' he rages meanwhile,
Bestow on the fool a contemptuous smile;
In spite of his anger, continue the same,
And ask 'If he isn't content, why he came?'
Whate'er he replies, pray be careful of this,
And do not one word or one syllable miss;
As soon as he threatens, stand just as you are,
But hold up before him this earthenware jar,
Remarking, 'King Famcram, determined I am
To ask you to taste of my raspberry jam.'
He'll do it – he must – since, the truth for to tell,
This jar carries with it a wonderful spell;
And when I've said o'er it the words I'll now say,
Whoever you choose will acknowledge your sway.
While kept in your hand (not a difficult task)
Each person you speak to will do what you ask;
And once the jam tasted, you'll have for your slave
King Famcram, and teach him the way to behave.
But keep the jar safe, for, broken or chipped,
Of your spell and your sway you'll be speedily stripped."
With these words the old lady, who, whilst speaking, had pulled out of some pocket or other, or else from the folds of her umbrella, a small jar, now held it aloft in her hand and displayed it before the eyes of Ophelia. As soon as she had done so for as long a time as she thought fit, she stuck her umbrella firmly into the ground, and holding the jar immediately over it, pronounced certain mystic and fearful words, which no mortal of ordinary nature could utter, much less write, and which there is the less reason to mention, because if they were written or uttered, no child of man could possibly understand them. But when she had finished this fearful muttering to herself, she spoke out more loudly, addressing herself thus to the jar and its contents:
"Jar! possessed of mighty spell,
Do thy work, and do it well.
Serve Ophelia night and day —
Famcram bring beneath her sway.
Jam! do duty day and night;
Tempt the royal appetite —
Be to Famcram wine and meat,
Bring him to Ophelia's feet;
Cause him eagerly to crave
Life but as Ophelia's slave;
Bow him humbly, bring him down,
At her footstool place his crown,
And, thy mission to fulfil,
Let him live but by her will."
Having finished her incantation, and repeated these lines in a voice sufficiently distinct, though not unlike the croak of a raven, the old woman now turned once more to Ophelia, as if to ascertain whether she had anything more to say. The maiden smiled sweetly upon her, and at once expressed her thanks in the following words: —
"Dear godmother! how good thou art!
The burden now has left my heart,
Which like a weight has bowed me down
With fear of tyrant Famcram's frown.
Well do I know 'twere hard to find
A councillor more wise and kind;
And, with thy might and magic aid
No longer shall I feel afraid.
I'll use the jar and jam as told,
And very tight the former hold,
And when King Famcram is subdued
I, with this magic power imbued,
Will make him slave – and let him know it —
And ne'er forget to whom I owe it!"
So speaking, Ophelia held out her hand for the promised jar, when the old woman, making a stride forward, placed it in her hands, and then, throwing both her arms round the maiden, clasped her tightly in a long and loving embrace with which she could very well have dispensed. Gratitude, however, for the immense favour which she was about to receive at the hands of her excellent godmother, prevented her from disclosing the repugnance which she probably felt at the vehemence of the old lady's affection, and having endured it with silent fortitude, she took the jar into her hands, and, bidding her companion a respectful farewell, forthwith re-entered the private door through which she had come, and shortly disappeared within the house.
The old woman then took up her umbrella, and slowly descending the bank of the river to the rushes from which she had emerged, speedily became invisible. The shades of night closed in, and darkness soon set its seal upon the Pigmy capital and nation.
The Chief Justice did not see his daughter that evening, and although he had great confidence in her sagacity, talents, and resources, it must be confessed that he rose next morning with a heavy heart. In all probability, he thought, it was his last day of office, and not only of office, but of freedom. With the fate of the Prime Minister and the Lord Chamberlain before his eyes, how could he possibly hope to escape? For a moment the thought of flight crossed his mind, but was as instantly banished. His hopes, his wealth, his relations, his home – everything that could make life pleasant was fixed and centred in his native country, and at his age no change was to be thought of or could be endured. And then, where could he fly to, and how escape from the tyrant's spies?
No: the thought was madness – the event, be it what it might, must be encountered: the morrow must come in its due course, and, after all, he, a lawyer, a statesman and a philosopher, ought to be able to put up with his fate at least as well as other people.
While the worthy Pigspud thus mused upon the melancholy prospect before him, he was interrupted by the approach of his daughter, the calmness of whose countenance and demeanour was certainly calculated to reassure her anxious parent. However, although she spoke hopefully and bade the old man take courage and be sure that things would turn out better than he expected, she told him not one word about her secret interview of the previous evening, or of the powerful assistance she had procured.
So the old gentleman passed but a sad day, and could only console himself by resolving to be loyal to the last to his sovereign, and to provide him an entertainment of which he should not be ashamed.
Vast, indeed, were the preparations made for that banquet. So many delicacies had probably not been collected together for one repast within the memory of man. Nothing was omitted. From the oysters with which each guest was to be furnished at the beginning, down to the liqueurs at the end of the feast, everything was there, and everything was in perfection.
Pigspud had even hired a special poet to compose and recite an ode in praise of the King, but there were doubts expressed as to the complete success of the composition, confined as it was to the doings of the table, and celebrating dishes which were made to tickle the palate by their taste rather than the ear by their well-sung praises. The ode began, —
"Come servants all, the table put on
Well-roasted beef and tender mutton.
Guests, down your throats white veal and lamb cram,
And drink the health of good King Famcram!
Consume the oaten cakes and wheat-bread,
The calves-foot jelly and the sweet-bread,
And own the table splendid, that is
So well supplied with oyster-patties."
There was much more of this, in a similar strain, but in the confusion that afterwards followed, and in the interesting events which I shall presently have to chronicle, the ode itself was lost, and as no copies could be afterwards obtained, I am unable to supply the rest of it to the anxious reader. With regard to the entertainment, generally, there was certainly no fault to be found.
Old Winelees and Mrs. Brushemup had surpassed themselves, and the confectioners, cooks and pastrycooks to whom had been assigned the duties connected with the preparation of the affair, had exerted themselves beyond all praise.
The decorations were gorgeous, and everything appeared to have been arranged with such care and good taste, and with such an utter disregard of expense, that there were not wanting many, even among those who were acquainted (as who was not) with the upshot of the efforts made by the Prime Minister and the Lord Chamberlain to do honour to their sovereign, who prophesied a greater success and even a triumphant result to the Chief Justice. The hour drew near at which Famcram was expected, and ere long the distant trumpets heralded his approach. The mob cheered him lustily along the streets, not because he was popular, but because he was handsomely dressed, had his crown upon his head and the famous sceptre in his hand, which facts were quite sufficient to justify a mob in cheering anybody.
Nearer and nearer his carriage drew, and at last stopped before the door of Pigspud's mansion. Then, after one last loud flourish, the trumpets ceased to sound. The king alighted to his feet. The Chief Justice received him kneeling on one knee.
Famcram bowed coldly, glanced right and left, and then slowly entered the banqueting room, while his host tremblingly followed behind, his heart balanced between hope and fear, but much, it must be owned, inclining to the latter. The king paused at the entrance of the room. Everything was so beautifully arranged that it was difficult to find fault, even for one who was determined to do so. The flowers, the fruit, the flags, the garlands, the decorations which met his eye were all so splendid, that those who saw them, and knew at the same time that the tyrant was certain to find some occasion to carry out his purpose, marvelled within themselves, what cause for fault-finding he could possibly discover, or what excuse he would be able to invent for his action.
They had not long to marvel, however, for the next moment the eyes of all were turned upon Ophelia, who came sauntering down the room, between the tables, very leisurely, even carelessly, and advanced towards the king.
She was dressed in her morning dress of an unpretending brown colour, fitting closely to the figure, and unadorned by ornament of any kind save a steel chatelaine, from which hung sundry useful articles, scissors, thimble, needlecase and the like; but which added to the suspicion which her general appearance created, that she had merely walked from her sitting-room to the banquetting-hall without any change of toilet in honour of the king.
This was quite enough for Famcram, and furnished him with an excuse for anger against his Chief Justice, far more legitimate than those which had been made the pretext for the punishment of his two brother officials. The king lost no time in flying into a violent passion.
"What ho!" he cried, in as loud a voice as his anger would permit him to raise. "What bold hussey is this who comes to meet her sovereign in common everyday garments? What malapert conduct have we here?" and he strutted forward puffing and fuming like a turkey-cock.
Ophelia, who had learned her lesson well, and knew how much depended upon it, paid not the smallest attention to the anger of the king, but advanced towards him with the same careless step, and a contemptuous smile upon her countenance. Of course this made matters worse, and the unhappy Pigspud trembled in his shoes in dire anticipation of what would follow, whilst the courtiers and attendants opened their eyes wider than they had ever done at the strange conduct of the infatuated maiden.
The sight of the smile upon the maiden's face incensed Famcram to a still greater degree. He stamped violently upon the floor, and turning to the Chief Justice demanded in imperious tones what was the meaning of this insult.
"Who is it?" he cried, "who is this brazen-faced daughter of a demon who dares to come thus into our presence?"
The unhappy Pigspud in trembling tones admitted that it was his own daughter.
"Your daughter?" exclaimed the king, with a smile or rather grin in which fury, triumph and revenge contended for the mastery. "It is then in your house and by your daughter that I am thus treated? I will deal with you presently, Chief Justice. What do you mean, hussey, by this shameful impudence?"
To the surprise of the king himself and of every person present, Ophelia actually yawned whilst the monarch was speaking, and when he had concluded, kept smiling upon him with palpable contempt, and glancing round at the decorations and beautiful objects right and left of her, remarked in a languid, drawling tone – "If you are not content, King Famcram, why did you come?"
This filled up the measure of her iniquity, and drove the king nearly mad. Half beside himself with rage, he seemed to those about him to foam at the mouth as he spluttered forth his furious answer.
"Vile wench! you and your father shall suffer for this! You shall, by all that a Pigmy holds dear I swear it. The fate of Binks and Chinks shall be paradise to your lot, you wretched scum of the earth. Ho! guard, seize these traitors at once, and have the lowest and darkest dungeon made ready for them without delay!"
A groan burst from the lips of the unfortunate Pigspud as the royal lips pronounced these words, for in them he naturally saw the realisation of his worst fears. But before one of the guards could move hand or foot, the fair Ophelia, with the same smile continuously upon her lips, took a step or two forward, and, holding out in her hand the little jar of which we know – but of the existence of which everyone present was profoundly ignorant, said in a remarkably calm and clear voice —
"Pray listen: King Famcram, determined I am
To ask you to taste of my raspberry jam!"
Scarcely were the words out of her mouth when a perceptible change came over the face, voice, and manner of Famcram. The first turned ghastly white; the second sank to a low whisper; and the third lost all its violence, and became as quiet as the manner of a sheep when in the hands of its executioner.
One shiver passed over the king's frame, as if there was a strong internal struggle; but it was over in a moment. Murmuring something so indistinctly that no one was quite sure what he said, but apparently something about "not liking to refuse a lady," he shuffled forward to meet Ophelia, whilst the crowd around was plunged in the deepest amazement at his strange and altered conduct.
The maiden, as he approached, took a small silver salt-spoon from the table near her, scooped out of her jar a good spoonful of the jam, and held it to Famcram's mouth. He meekly received the spoon therein, and devoured the jam without a word, good, bad, or indifferent. The next moment he grovelled – literally grovelled – at Ophelia's feet, covering them with kisses, and vowing that he was her slave for life.
The people could hardly believe their eyes, and looked at each other as if they felt that they must all be in a dream, or suffering from some optical delusion, and that it could not be a reality which was passing before them. But Ophelia took it all quite as a matter of course.
She ordered Famcram, in haughty tones, to kneel on all fours, and as soon as he had done so, she sat down upon him with the greatest calmness.
Wonder upon wonders! The tyrant, who had shown every disposition to treat his people like miserable slaves, seemed now to be reduced to more abject slavery than the meanest of his vassals.
A moment before, he was uttering threats of vengeance against his host; now, he was prostrate and humble, the meek servitor of that host's daughter.
No one could imagine whence or how this mighty change had come, but the voice of Ophelia soon turned their thoughts to other things. Still seated upon her living stool, she bade the guests be seated, and told them that her father would do the honours.
Having seen her power displayed in so miraculous a manner, no one felt the least inclined to disobey her, the more particularly as her commands were by no means of an unwelcome nature, and the feast was one of a very inviting description.
No one offered to interfere between the lady and the sovereign, being probably of opinion that to do so would expose themselves to danger without benefit to their lord and master, for whom, moreover, none of them had any very particular affection. Accordingly they obeyed Ophelia's commands without either reluctance or hesitation, seated themselves at the tables and began to attack the good things thereupon without any unnecessary delay.
Meantime Ophelia kept her seat, and Famcram, not being particularly strong, soon groaned beneath her weight, especially as she did not try to lighten his burden, but sat as heavy as she could, occasionally lifting her feet from the ground to give greater weight to her body. The king spoke not a word, however, being apparently restrained by some power. He merely panted and breathed deeply, once or twice trembling so as to shake the maiden. Whenever he did so, she struck him a sharp blow on the side of the head with the back of her hand, addressing him at the same time with epithets the reverse of complimentary.
"Beast, keep quiet." "Be still, you stupid brute," and such like ejaculations were all the king got from his fair mistress, and this continued until the banquet was well nigh over, and most of the good things consumed. Then Ophelia arose, and taking the king by the ear (which she pinched and twisted so that an involuntary yell broke from the unhappy sufferer), led him to the head of the table at which her father was presiding. The latter trembled even then, partly for fear of the extraordinary power possessed by his daughter, and perhaps in a greater degree lest it should suddenly fail her after all, and the vengeance of the enslaved monarch be worse to endure than would have been his first anger.
No such fear, however, troubled Ophelia, who had her own purpose in what she was now about to do. She desired to show to the people her great and full power over their sovereign, and this she had already done; but it was by no means part of her plan that they should cease to pay him deference, or at least obedience, for it was through him that she could alone possess that power over them which she fully intended to gain. She therefore caused him to be seated at her father's right hand, and to be supplied with food and drink of which she directed him to partake. Famcram obeyed at once, meekly and without complaint, and ate what was given to him with a grateful glance at Ophelia, such as a dog might have given to a master who had thrown him a bone.
She, meanwhile, seating herself on the other side of her father, listlessly asked for some boiled chicken, and, whilst she trifled with her knife and fork, began to converse upon indifferent subjects, making no allusion whatever to the incidents of the day. This behaviour caused the Chief Justice the greatest astonishment, and at another time he would have demanded explanations of his daughter without delay.
But his joy at the unexpected turn which things had taken, and at his own safety, at least for the time, from the peril with which he had been so recently threatened, caused him to take less notice of the matter than he would otherwise have done.
To speak the truth, moreover, his joy had been somewhat increased and his spirits in no small degree elated by an unusual quantity of dry champagne which he had imbibed in the excitement of the moment, so that things appeared natural and reasonable to him which would generally have seemed most extraordinary.
Ophelia meantime was playing her game well. She judged – and judged rightly – that the conduct of the king in throwing himself at her feet, in allowing her to sit upon him as if he were a chair or stool, and in afterwards meekly following her to the head of the table, would be attributed to nothing else than devoted love by a great many of those who were present, and especially by such as had not been near enough to witness his first outburst of anger, or to hear his first words, which had certainly not been those of affection.
This idea would be speedily followed by another, when the guests saw her seated on one side of the Chief Justice and King Famcram on the other.
What could it mean save that she was about to be raised to the highest dignity in the kingdom, and to share the throne and power of Famcram as his queen?
This was in fact the resolution which she had formed, and determined to omit no precaution which might ensure its success. So she sat and ate at the banquet, already looking and feeling like a queen, and her device fully succeeded in making the people believe that things were as she desired.
But all this would be insufficient without some public avowal on the part of the king, and she resolved that this should be given.
Presently, therefore, she leant forward across her father, and, steadily looking Famcram in the face, thus addressed him: —
"King, your wish – the anxious wish of your heart – shall be gratified. I consent to become your queen, and you may at once announce the happy tidings to this august assembly."
As she said these words, the luckless Famcram turned quite red in the face, and there was visibly another struggle within his breast between contending passions. This struggle lasted longer than the first, and not only did he make no sign of acquiescence to the lady's proposal, but there were those who afterwards declared that they heard – deep and low like the sound of fire struggling to burst loose from walls within which it is enclosed – a sepulchral voice within the king which muttered the words – "I don't want any queen."
But, whether such words were spoken or not, Ophelia was equal to the occasion.
"Jam, dear, did you say?" she asked in her most winning tones, and in another second the salt-spoon was out, and a portion of the contents of the little jar transferred without delay to the king's mouth, whilst in a low, determined voice, the maiden continued, speaking in tones which could scarcely be heard by anyone save the king himself and the Chief Justice.
"Speak out, slave, at once, and acknowledge me as your only queen."
Mechanically, as if moved by springs, uprose King Famcram. There was a dead silence for a moment; then there burst forth a loud cheer, for the guests naturally supposed that the king was about to speak, and knew that it was proper to cheer before he said anything, in order to show that they were ready to do so afterwards.
Then again there was a silence, and Famcram spoke these words:
"Ophelia Pigspud is my queen, and only she."
And down he sat again so suddenly that everybody thought it was by accident, and there must be something more coming.
As, however, there was not, it was evidently the duty of all present to cheer again, and this they did most lustily, again and again, though a great many of them had not heard what the king had said, a great many more thought there was something in the proceeding which they could not understand, and still a great many more did not care sixpence, one way or other, about the announcement.