private room until his Majesty should be ready to receive them. The Earl
of Rochester had detained them there purposely to give time for the
arrival of the ladies of the corporation, who were by his directions
received at a private door. The king, amused with the scheme, allowed
Rochester to make his arrangements. When all was ready, the mayor and
aldermen, who had been very comfortably regaled with sherry and
biscuits, so that the time did not appear too tedious, were requested to
enter the presence-chamber, where the king received them in due form.
The mayor, approaching the throne, knelt down and laid at his Majesty's
feet the petition, which he was requested by the king to read.
The preamble set forth that the young nobility of the day were not
content with the pleasures of the court, but were in the custom of
entering the city on the other side of Temple-bar, creating
disturbances, and visiting the wives of his Majesty's dutiful citizens,
giving much cause for scandal, "and requesting that in future his
Majesty would be pleased to give directions that the nobility should not
enter the city without the permission of the corporation, as such would
prove most advantageous to the morals of the community."
"Hah!" observed his Majesty, "how is this, my Lord of Rochester? Do our
young gallants create disturbances with our good citizens? This must be
looked to."
"May it please your Majesty," replied the Earl of Rochester, "assertion
is not proof. Here are now twenty-five of the wealthiest citizens of
London present, and on their knees before you--they have twenty-five
wives--is there any one who will accuse his wife, or his neighbour's
wife, of listening to the nonsense of these young nobles? Either they
must listen to them, or, if they do not listen to them, there is no harm
done."
"Very true," replied the king. "Say, Mr Mayor, where are your proofs of
what you have now asserted?"
"May it please your Majesty, women are women," replied the mayor.
"I believe we may admit that, your Majesty," rejoined Rochester, with a
smile.
"Yes. In that point I agree with Mr Mayor--go on. What further does this
petition contain?"
"A request that your Majesty will pass some law by which our city dames
may be prevented from vying in expense with those of the court--to
forbid stuffs of gold, or Genoa velvet, to be worn by them--and all
ornaments of too high price--which are not suitable to our condition as
simple artisans, and very ruinous to our pockets."
"May it please your Majesty, as any man can legislate for his own
household, I think this last clause quite unnecessary. If the good
citizens of London cannot afford to pay for such finery they must
prevent their wives from purchasing it."
"That is very true," observed his Majesty; "you must prevent it
yourselves."
"May it please your Majesty, we cannot," exclaimed the whole deputation,
with one voice.
"Well, this is a very serious affair," replied the king, "and it must be
laid before a special privy-council. Are you prepared to prove before
the council, when you are called on, that your wives have been guilty of
listening to these young gallants--have received them, and admitted
their familiarities--say, Mr Mayor, and gentlemen, are you prepared to
prove this?"
"All are prepared and ready to swear to it," replied the deputation.
"Well then, Mr Mayor, you will have the goodness to retire for a short
time while I consult with my council, which I shall immediately summon;
and if the facts are as you say, and you prove them, your petition shall
be attended to."
The mayor and aldermen, delighted at this gracious reply, rose and
humbly backed out of the presence-chamber. As soon as they had retired,
the lady mayoress and all the aldermen's wives were ushered in,
requested by his Majesty to be seated on chairs ranged round the throne,
and thus was formed King Charles' special council. Rochester read the
petition in a merry way, and then his Majesty requested the lady
mayoress, as first in rank, to give her opinion.
"May it please your Majesty," said the mayoress, "it is very true that
many of the young nobility do come within the city walls and prove good
customers to our husbands. As for disturbances, I never heard of any,
for our husbands are peaceable men; and as for their paying attention to
the ladies, it is in my opinion only paying a compliment to our
husbands, as well as to ourselves."
"Very well argued," replied the king.--"Your opinion, madam, on this
first point," continued the king, addressing himself to one of the
aldermen's ladies.
"Pray, does your Majesty think it fair," replied the lady, who was very
pretty, "that our husbands are to leave us all day long, to add to their
heaps of money, which they care for more than they do for us, and that
we are not to amuse ourselves in some way? Besides, it can't be wrong,
for the king sets the example, and the king can do no wrong."
"May it please your Majesty, that last argument settles the point,"
observed Rochester; "and I believe I may say, that the whole council are
of the same opinion."
The ladies bowed their heads in acquiescence.
"And now as to the other request contained in this petition, that the
ladies shall not in future dress in gold stuff, Genoa velvet, and rich
ornaments. What say you, ladies?"
"May it please your Majesty," observed an alderman's wife, who had been
married a week, "aware of what was to come, we have already discussed
the point between ourselves. It is admitted that our husbands leave us
alone, and that we are justified in receiving the attentions of the
young nobles who so honour us. Now if our husbands stayed with us, and
kept us company, we would dress to please them; but as they do not, and
we are indebted to others for society, why we must dress accordingly.
Courtiers require the splendour of the court, and it is our duty to
study to please them, and our husbands' duty to accede to it, as a
return for the compliments paid to us."
"This is remarkably good logic, Sire," observed Rochester. "I doubt
whether you ever summoned a more wise council."
"A more delightful one, never," replied the king, bowing to the ladies.
"Now we will, if you please, summon in the lord mayor and deputation;
and if they are willing, as they say they are, to prove----"
"Yes, if--" rejoined the lady mayoress; and all the other ladies
replied, "Yes, if----"
In a few minutes the deputation made its appearance: the mayor and his
colleagues entered the room with joyful anticipations, and fully
prepared to prove all that their petition asserted; but what was their
dismay when they all beheld their own wives, dressed in stuffs of gold,
and Genoa velvet, arranged in a circle round the throne, their eyes
flashing fire, and their fans moving with a rapidity that was ever the
precursor of a storm. Each dame had singled out her husband, fixed her
eyes upon him, and every lord and master had quailed at their lightning
flashes. They tottered, rather than walked, up to the throne, and when
they again went down upon their knees, each one involuntarily turned
round to the direction where his own wife was seated, as if to deprecate
her wrath and implore her pardon.
The king bit his lips to control his laughter; Rochester stuffed his
handkerchief into his mouth.
"Mr Mayor and gentlemen," said the king, after he had somewhat recovered
himself, "I have, as you perceive, summoned a special council to consult
on this case; and it has been the decision of the council, that you
should now produce these proofs, which you but just now stated you were
prepared and willing to do. Mr Mayor, you may proceed, we are all
attention."
"May it--please your--ladyship," stammered the mayor.
"It does not please her ladyship," replied the lady mayoress, fanning
herself furiously.
"I meant--his Majesty--I would have said--I have no proofs myself to
bring forward--but my colleagues are, I believe, well prepared."
"Indeed, Mr Mayor, is it possible that I mistook you? You have no
proofs? Well then, who are the other gentlemen who are to bring forward
the proofs?"
The deputation answered not.
"My Lord of Rochester, oblige me by putting the question separately to
each of these gentlemen."
The question was put, but not one of the deputation had a proof to bring
forward.
"By the mass, but this is strange!" said the king. "But an hour ago they
all had proofs, and now they have not one. This is trifling with us, Mr
Mayor--an insult to the throne and council. Speak, sir, what means
this?"
"May it please your Majesty--it means--that we beg pardon of your
Majesty--and of the special council."
"And your petition?"
"Is withdrawn, if it so please your Majesty," said the mayor, looking
round to the aldermen.
"Yes, your Majesty, is withdrawn."
"For myself, Mr Mayor, I accept your excuses, and you have my pardon;
but as for the special council, I must leave you to settle with it how
you can.--Ladies, a banquet is prepared; when summoned, it will depend
upon yourselves, whether you come alone or attended by the mayor and
deputation. Come, my Lord of Rochester, we will not interfere in the
arrangements, which will take place better when we are out of the way."
So saying, the king quitted the presence-chamber with the Earl of
Rochester, leaving the ladies seated, and their husbands still kneeling.
We shall not dwell upon what took place after the departure of the king;
one thing is certain, that the fair sex are very merciful, and as their
husbands promised them that in future they should have their own way,
dress as they pleased, receive whom they pleased, and spend what money
they pleased, the ladies very kindly and magnanimously forgave their
spouses; and when they were summoned to the banquet, each lady entered
the hall, hanging on the arm of her husband.
This happy reconciliation was duly celebrated. Wine flowed, bumper after
bumper was drank, pledge succeeded to pledge, and it was long past
midnight before the carouse was over. The moon shone bright, and heated
with the wine, Rochester proposed to the ladies that they should take a
walk on the terrace before they ordered their carriages to go home. It
must be confessed that the ladies had not been so cautious as they
ought to have been, and that their steps were not very steady; but could
a lady refuse to drink wine with a king or an Earl of Rochester? No! and
the consequence was, that they all were merry, and some of them more
than merry. As for the husbands, they were reeling and tumbling in all
directions, and the terrace-wall, wide as it was, was not sufficiently
wide for them. Rochester led the way, and all was fun and merry
laughter.
The party had not proceeded far, when a little altercation took place
between the mayoress and the alderman's wife who had given her opinion
after her in the council; for it so happened that as they sauntered
along, the mayoress had picked up one portion of the broken wand, and
the alderman's lady the other. The wand was of ebony, and highly
polished--each would possess herself of the half in the hands of the
other, and thus commenced the dispute; and it ended, as all disputes
between ladies will end, if they happen to have a stick in their hands
when they quarrel, by their beating each other. The mayoress gave the
alderman's wife a slap with her part of the wand--it was immediately
returned--when lo and behold----
It must be here explained, that although the wand when entire had the
power of changing people as we have described, yet when broken, its
power was divided between the two parts; the one end retaining its half
power of changing only the upper portion of the figure, while the other
could only change the lower half.
The blows were exchanged. The mayoress, who was a tall woman,
immediately sank down a foot and a half, the upper portion of her plump
body was now resting upon the two diminutive legs of a two-feet-high
fairy--which could only make a stride of six inches at a time. The
alderman's lady, on the contrary, retained her lower portion of her
body; but instead of her lovely face, and graceful neck, she carried a
little round head and shoulders, such as is represented in the figure of
Puck. They must all have been very tipsy, for the others thought that
they had put on masquerade dresses--the sticks were seized, one by
Rochester, the other by the king, and they struck right and left--the
lord mayor had the head and beard of a satyr--Rochester had the feet of
a goat--the king appeared to have the bust of a beautiful woman, with a
pair of splendid blue gossamer wings to his shoulders--one of the
aldermen found himself with a naiad's tail, and he fell flat on the
terrace, with great violence; all of them, men and women, were
transformed into some shape or another--and the more strange the
metamorphosis, the louder they all laughed and shouted. Some indeed were
very much alarmed; particularly one little woman, who whispered to her
neighbour, that she believed she was a little man.
But the scene did not end here: the two parts of the wand found their
way into other hands, who as they capered and jumped beat their
companions. King Charles, struck by the lower part of the wand, found
his transformation complete--he was now a lovely woman;--Rochester was
turned by a blow, into a perfect satyr--while the mayoress, struck by
the same portion, sank down into a little fairy not two feet high. As
the sticks were passed round there was no end to the transformations:
the fat alderman who had fallen down with a fish's tail, now became a
perfect naiad, with long hair, and a comb in his hand. Such was the
noise and confusion, that the two little maids of honour came out on the
terrace to witness this strange revelling. Rochester seized them and
kissed them as they screamed with fright at his shaggy beard--the wand
was applied to them, and they too were transformed. The Duchess of
Portsmouth opened her chamber-window, and perceiving the wild revelling
resolved to indulge his Majesty with a good curtain-lecture; but he
heard her not.
"To the oak of Herne the hunter," cried the king; "away to the oak!"
"To the oak! to the oak!" shouted the whole bacchanalian crew; and away
they flew across the park, starting the quiescent deer with their
shouts, their laughter, and their revelry. Rochester took the naiad
under his arm, that she might not be left behind, and dancing, capering,
tumbling, and getting up again, led by the merry king, who now was a
beautiful fairy, they arrived there out of breath.
But before they had reached the oak, their noise had disturbed the
slumber of one happy pair who had nestled in each other's arms among the
fern.
It was Maya and Elda--who had met, and had been reconciled, proving that
with fairies, the quarrels of lovers are but the renewal of love; not
the case, although supposed to be so, with us mortals. Maya had missed
his wand, but he would not leave Elda to return for it--he intended to
have searched for it the next morning.
"What is all that noise, dearest?" cried Elda, waking up and resting on
her elbow, as she listened.
"What can it be, but the mad king at his pranks as usual?" replied Maya,
who had risen on his feet. "But what is here? I see--I see how it
is--they have found my wand and must have broken it; for it does not
otherwise do things by halves."
As Maya said this, the king with his companions arrived under the
oak-tree--Elda retired to a distance, while Maya soon regained the two
parts of his wand from the hands of the intoxicated parties, who had
possession of them.
"I shall have work to-night, and must repair this mischief," said Maya.
"Elda, dearest, hasten and bring me poppy-juice to seal up the eyes of
these mad people."
In a few minutes Elda had executed her commission; the whole company
were now seated in a circle, singing songs, hugging one another, all
merry but the two little maids of honour, who not having taken wine,
were horrified at the transformation--they sat together and cried as if
their little hearts would break.
Maya pressed the poppy-juice on the eyes of each individual, and in a
few seconds they were all in a profound sleep. He then examined the
transformations, and completed those which were partial above or
below--till then he could not repair his wand. When they were all
transformed, he put the two parts of his wand together, breathed upon
them, and the wand was reunited. He then went round the circle, touched
each person, and the whole company resumed their original forms.
"So far have I done my part," observed Maya. "As for colds, catarrhs,
fevers, agues, they deserve all they may catch. Now, Elda, let us once
more retire to rest."
The leaves of the old oak-tree were gilded with the rays of the morning
sun, before King Charles and his companions awoke, and very much
astonished they were to find themselves in such a place and at such an
hour--the ladies blushed and canvassed the affair among themselves--they
recollected the transformations, they remembered their setting off for
the Hunter's Oak--but still they were confused. The mayor and aldermen
were puzzled--not so much at finding themselves asleep under the tree,
but that their wives should be there also. The king and Rochester were
the only two who appeared indifferent.
"Come, ladies--come, my lord mayor and gentlemen of the corporation, we
have had a merry night of it, and have slept under the greenwood tree,
now let us in to the toilet, and then to breakfast."
He offered his arm to the lady mayoress, the rest of the company
followed--they hastened to the toilet--they ate their breakfasts, and
then hastened back to the good city of London.
"Well," said the king, as soon as the company had departed, "what think
you of this, Rochester--were we visited by the fairies last night, think
you?"
"May it please your Majesty," replied the earl, "my opinion is that
either we were in the hands of the fairies, or else----"
"Else what?"
"Or else, Sire, we were all most confoundedly drunk."
A Rencontre
One evening I was sitting alone in the _salle a manger_ of the _Couronne
d'Or_, at Boulogne, when Colonel G----, an old acquaintance, came in.
After the first greeting he took a chair, and was soon as busily
occupied as I was with a cigar, which was occasionally removed from our
lips as we asked and replied to questions as to what had been our
pursuits subsequent to our last rencontre. After about half an hour's
chit-chat, he observed, as he lighted a fresh cigar--
"When I was last in this room I was in company with a very strange
personage."
"Male or female?" inquired I.
"Female," replied Colonel G----. "Altogether it's a story worth telling,
and as it will pass away the time, I will relate it you--unless you wish
to retire."
As I satisfied him that I was not anxious to go to bed, and very anxious
to hear his story, he narrated it as near as I can recollect in the
following words:--
"I had taken my place in the diligence from Paris, and when I arrived at
_Notre Dame des Victoires_ it was all ready for a start; the luggage,
piled up as high as an English haystack, had been covered over and
buckled down, and the _conducteur_ was calling out for the passengers. I
took my last hasty whiff of my cigar, and unwillingly threw away more
than half of a really good Havannah; for I perceived that in the
_interieur_, for which I had booked myself, there was one female already
seated: and women and cigars are such great luxuries in their respective
ways, that they are not to be indulged in at one and the same time--the
world would be too happy, and happiness, we are told, is not for us
here below. Not that I agree with that moral, although it comes from
very high authority;--there is a great deal of happiness in this world,
if you knew how to extract it; or rather, I should say, of pleasure:
there is a pleasure in doing good; there is a pleasure, unfortunately,
in doing wrong; there is a pleasure in looking forward, ay, and in
looking backward also; there is pleasure in loving and being loved, in
eating, in drinking, and though last, not least, in smoking. I do not
mean to say that there are not the drawbacks of pain, regret, and even
remorse; but there is a sort of pleasure even in them: it is pleasant to
repent, because you know that you are doing your duty; and if there is
no great pleasure in pain, it precedes an excess when it has left you. I
say again, that, if you know how to extract it, there is a great deal of
pleasure and of happiness in this world, especially if you have, as I
have, a very bad memory.
"'_Allons, Messieurs!_' said the _conducteur_; and when I got in I found
myself the sixth person, and opposite to the lady; for all the other
passengers were of my own sex. Having fixed our hats up to the roof,
wriggled and twisted a little so as to get rid of coat-tails, etc., all
of which was effected previous to our having cleared _Rue Notre Dame des
Victoires_, we began to scrutinise each other. Our female companion's
veil was down and doubled, so that I could not well make her out; my
other four companions were young men, all Frenchmen, apparently
good-tempered, and inclined to be agreeable. A few seconds were
sufficient for my reconnoitre of the gentlemen, and then my eyes were
naturally turned towards the lady. She was muffled up in a winter cloak,
so that her figure was not to be made out; and the veil still fell down
before her face, so that only one cheek and a portion of her chin could
be deciphered:--that fragment of her physiognomy was very pretty, and I
watched in silence for the removal of the veil.
"I have omitted to state that, before I got into the diligence, I saw
her take a very tender adieu of a very handsome woman; but as her back
was turned to me at the time, I did not see her face. She had now fallen
back in her seat, and seemed disposed to commune with her own thoughts:
that did not suit my views, which were to have a view of her face. Real
politeness would have induced me to have left her to herself, but
pretended politeness was resorted to that I might gratify my curiosity;
so I inquired if she wished the window up. The answer was in the
negative, and in a very sweet voice; and then there was a pause, of
course--so I tried again.
"'You are melancholy at parting with your handsome sister,' observed I,
leaning forward with as much appearance of interest as I could put into
my beautiful phiz.
"'How could you have presumed that she was my sister?' replied she.
"'From the _strong family_ likeness,' rejoined I, 'I felt certain of
it.'
"'But she is only my sister-in-law, sir--my brother's wife.'
"'Then, I presume, he chose a wife as like his sister as he could find:
nothing more natural--I should have done the same.'
"'Sir you are very polite,' replied the lady, who lowered down the
window, adding, 'I like fresh air.'
"'Perhaps you will find yourself less incommoded if you take off your
veil?'
"'I will not ascribe that proposition to curiosity on your part, sir,'
replied the lady, 'as you have already seen my face.'
"'You cannot, then, be surprised at my wishing to see it once more.'
"'You are very polite, sir.'
"Although her voice was soft, there was a certain quickness and decision
in her manner and language which were very remarkable. The other
passengers now addressed her, and the conversation became general. The
veiled lady took her share in it, and showed a great deal of smartness
and repartee. In an hour more we were all very intimate. As we changed
horses, I took down my hat to put into it my cigar-case, which I had
left in my pocket, upon which the lady observed, 'You smoke, I perceive;
and so, I dare say, do all the rest of the gentlemen.--Now, do not mind
me; I am fond of the smell of tobacco--I am used to it.'
"We hesitated.
"'Nay, more, I smoke myself, and will take a cigar with you.'
"This was decisive. I offered my cigar-case--another gentleman struck a
light. Lifting up her veil so as to show a very pretty mouth, with teeth
as white as snow, she put the cigar in her mouth, and set us the
example. In a minute both windows were down, and every one had a cigar
in his mouth.
"'Where did you learn to smoke, madam?' was a question put to the
_incognita_ by the passenger who sat next to her.
"'Where?--In the camp--Africa--everywhere. I did belong to the
army--that is, my husband was one of the captains of the 47th. He was
killed, poor man! in the last successful expedition to
Constantine:--_c'etait un brave homme_.'
"'Indeed! Were you at Constantine?'
"'Yes, I was; I followed the army during the whole campaign.'