A Night With The Crowned Heads

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Title:     A Night With The Crowned Heads
Author: Talbot Baines Reed [More Titles by Reed]

Chapter I. THE ARREST

It was a ferociously hot day at the beginning of the summer vac. I, as in duty bound, had been spending my first day as a well-conducted, newly broken-up schoolboy should.

Being fully impressed with the importance of combining self-improvement with all my recreations, I had been in the morning to the Zoo, where I had eaten buns with the elephant, cracked jokes and nuts with the monkeys, prodded the hippopotamus, got a rise out of the grizzly, made the lions roar, had a row with the chimpanzee, and generally enjoyed myself.

Then I had done the Tower. This only took ten minutes, as the place was horribly slow, and fellows looked after you wherever you went.

After that I had had a turn at the circus, to study the habits of the horse in a state of nature. I should have liked this more if the clown had not been such a muff. He wasn't half up to his business, and consequently the place was not as improving as it ought to have been. So I shook off the dust of it from my feet, and, after laying some apples and other things aboard, took an omnibus to Madame Tussaud's, where I knew I should see some fellows of my acquaintance, and be able to improve my mind in good company.

You must know I had pulled off the third history prize in our division last term, and therefore felt more or less friendly disposed to the kings and queens generally, and was even a little curious to see what they looked like, now that I was supposed to know more about them than most fellows do.

To tell the truth, although I had several times been to Madame Tussaud's before, I had invariably cut these grand people and devoted myself to another part of the establishment, which boys are usually supposed to understand better. Even on the present occasion it was necessary to pay a visit to those regions, since several celebrated historical figures were kept down there, which I felt I must on no account miss seeing.

But after I had thoroughly explored that portion, making the acquaintance of all the new-comers, putting my head into the guillotine, taking a turn in the condemned cell, sitting in Napoleon's carriage, and otherwise informing myself concerning the seamy side of human nature, I determined to be virtuous and devote at least half an hour to the study of the royalties in the Great Hall.

The enterprise was not to be undertaken without refreshment. I therefore took a preliminary excursion to the ground floor, where the historical costumes are kept, and, close beside them, the ices, buns, Victoria sandwiches, ginger-beer, Turkish delight, lemon squashes, and other wholesome aids to historical research. Here I dallied a little-- just long enough to repair the ravages of nature--and then, feeling very much as Little Jack Horner did after he had partaken of refreshment, I mounted once more the marble stairs and set myself to do the crowned heads.

I set myself literally, for it occurred to me I could do their Majesties just as well sitting as standing. And, as the afternoon was hot, and the sofa near the door was comfortable, and as, moreover, I was slightly oppressed with my study of the costumes downstairs, and considerably soothed by the strains of Madame Tussaud's orchestra, it so fell out that, just as I was nodding how-do-you-do to William the Conqueror, I dropped asleep.

How long I slept I must leave it to those of my readers who have come through the same exertions of mind and body to guess. I had never intended to exceed a short forty winks, because I was aware that only half an hour was left before the time for closing arrived. But when I awoke it was with a start, to find that the place was silent, dark, and deserted. The music had gone, the shuffling of footsteps on the stairs had ceased, the hum of voices had died away. All was so quiet that my own breathing sounded loud and noisy.

I rubbed my eyes and looked round. Yes, I was on the same seat, but not a soul was left in the place--only I--I and the wax figures.

The lights were out, all except one solitary gas-jet over the door of the Chamber of Horrors, which sent a flickering gleam my way, and danced weirdly in and out among the motionless images around me. It was not a comfortable position to be in, and I confess I did not like it. Of course a wax image in the dark is the same as a wax image in the day. Still, thought I, I would sooner be outside, and--

What was it made me stop short, and sit up in my seat, petrified, and with the blood curdling in my veins?

My eyes, while I meditated, had turned towards William the Conqueror, to whom, as I have already said, I had been in the act of nodding in a friendly way when I dropped asleep.

To my horror, I now perceived that he was, in a most unmistakable manner, nodding at me! Yes, by the feeble light I could see, not only his head move, but even his eyes too! I was helpless and speechless. I could no more move, or call out, or take my eyes off him, than if I had been a wax figure myself.

Presently I saw his hands move slowly to the arms of his chair, and then, keeping his eyes still on me, he rose to his feet. I could hear the clank of the sword against his greaves as he stepped off his platform on to the floor of the hall and advanced a step towards me. Then, as I sat quaking there, I felt his eyes upon mine, and knew that he was staring at me from head to toe.

By a superhuman effort I dug my fingers into the plush of the sofa, and ejaculated a frantic "Oh!"

The cry resounded fearfully through the building, and seemed to wake echoes which certainly had nothing in common with my voice. It was as if every one in the place had suddenly caught sight of me at the same moment and was giving vent to his or her astonishment.

I had better have remained silent! For, as I gave one scared look round, I saw King John lay down his pen, and, rising hastily, walk towards me. He scowled viciously at me, and then, as I collapsed in a heap on to the floor, I saw him turn inquiringly to William the Conqueror.

Whatever the question he asked was, William answered it in the affirmative, whereupon John turned round to the rest of the company, and beckoned with his hand.

Instantly William Rufus, Henry the First, Stephen, Matilda, Henry the Second, and Richard Coeur de Lion, came forward. William the Second turned me over with his foot, and stooped down to look at my face.

"That's him!" said he.

"That's he, you mean," said Henry Beauclerk.

"I mean nothing of the kind," said Rufus. "I mean him. So now, old lampreys!"

"They were _not_ lampreys," said Henry sulkily; "they were oysters."

"Yes, yes," said Matilda. "But what business has _he_ here?"

"Him?" said Rufus doggedly.

"You'd better ask him," said Stephen, with a sneer. "The chances are he'll want to know what business _you_ have here."

"I'm as much an empress as you," said Matilda, spitefully.

"I know that; which means you're no empress at all."

"Look here," said Henry the Second, "don't you cheek me, Steevie. She let you have it pretty hot, you know."

"Hot? I like that," said Stephen. "It was cold enough that day she made tracks in the snow. I've had rheumatism ever since."

"By the way," said Henry the Second, "I can put you up to a capital cure for rheumatism. Tried it myself. It was after that _little_ affair about Beckett, you know. I was a good deal run down; and I got a fellow to touch me up on the shoulder with a cat. You've no notion how it picks a fellow up. Quite my own notion, too. Come, and I'll give you a dose."

"Don't mind the governor." said Richard; "he will have his joke. Did you ever read the _Talisman_, Tilly?--jolly story!--all about yours truly. You can get it for 4 pence ha'penny. I say, what's to be done with this chap, Johnny? He's a little like Arthur of Brittany, isn't he? Suppose, just to keep your hand in--"

Here John turned very red, and got into a towering rage, and threatened to tear up the Magna Charta to spite them all. Whereat they all laughed.

All this time I lay, bewildered and speechless, on the floor. It was a long time before they could bring their minds to decide what was to be done with me; and, indeed, I began half to hope they had forgotten me in their own squabbles, when a great burly form pushed his way into the group, and asked what all the noise was about.

"As if I haven't noise enough in my place with all my six wives talking at the same time," said he, "without your row. What is it? Can't you settle it and be done?"

William Rufus turned me over again with his foot.

"That thing's the matter," said he.

King Hal stooped down, with his hands on his knees, and stared at me. Then he gave a low whistle.

"Whew!" said he. "That's a catch and a half. Where did you get him?"

"Here, a quarter of an hour ago," said William the Conqueror. "It was me nobbled him."

"Not me--_I_," said Henry the First.

"You!" exclaimed the Conqueror. "Why, what do you expect if you tell lies like that?"

"I didn't mean I got him," explained Henry. "I meant you should say it was _I_."

"I shan't say it was you, when it was me," said William. "I'm not given to that style of thing, I can tell you."

"No, no," began Henry again. "What I mean is, that instead of saying it was _me_--"

"Who said it was you? I said it was me."

"Yes, and that's where you make a mistake. You should say--"

"Look here," said Henry the Eighth, "suppose you settle that outside. The thing is--whoever nobbled him, as William says--hadn't we better give him a cold chop, now we've got him?"

"Better try him first," said John. "I make a strong point of that in Magna Charta, you know."

"Much easier to take the chop first," said Henry.

"I prefer stakes myself," said Queen Mary, joining the party.

"Well, well, any way you like," said King Hal; "anything for a quiet life. The ladies are worrying me to give them a day out, and an Old Bailey trial will be a nice variety for them. Only, let's have it done in proper state, if we have it at all. I suppose you'd like me to be judge, eh?"

Nobody seemed particularly pleased at this proposal; and Richard said--

"You'd better ask Elizabeth, hadn't you?"

"Oh, good gracious, no!" exclaimed Henry in alarm. "Don't say a word about it to her, or there'll be a terrible rumpus. I assure you I have studied law all my life. Come along. Bring him downstairs and let's begin. Here, Teddy," cried he to a nice-looking boy not far off, who must have been Edward the Fifth. "Here, Teddy, run and tell Catherine, and Annie, and Janie, and Annie Cleeves, and Kitty Howard, and Kitty Parr--let's see, is that all?" said he, counting them over on his fingers; "yes, six--tell 'em all to hurry up, and not to let Elizabeth see them, whatever they do. Oh, and you can tell all the lot of Majesties after Johnny here they'd better come, too. Come, look alive, my lad."

"All, very well," said Teddy; "how am I to look alive after the way I've been served? Besides, I can never remember all their names."

"Well, look them up in the catalogue--they're all down there. Tell them, the big dock downstairs. And if we're lucky and get the job over in time, I don't mind standing treat all round in the refreshment-room afterwards. That will fetch them, I fancy; eh, what?"

 

Chapter II. THE TRIAL

The room suddenly grew dim and silent again, and I began to think that after all I had been only dreaming. But when I lifted my head and looked round, the place of the kings was empty. There was William the Conqueror's footstool where he had upset it; and there lay the pen and ink on the floor under King John's chair. As for the big group in the middle, not a soul was left there except Chaucer and William Caxton, who had taken possession of the two easiest chairs, and were deep in a game of chess.

As I picked myself slowly up off the floor, I became aware of the gleam of a lantern approaching me, and heard a footstep coming down the hall. It was too dark to see who it was till he was close up; then, with a gasp, I recognised Marwood, the hangman!

"Oh," said he pleasantly, "you're the young party, are you? Come, cheer up. You've got to be tried first. The fact is, they couldn't find the regular police, and asked me to step up for you. Come, my lad," said he, proceeding to pinion me with the cord in his hand, "this will brace you up wonderfully. You may depend on me to do the job neatly. I've just invented a new noose, and have been wanting a light weight to try it on, so you're in luck. Come along, and don't keep them waiting."

And he proceeded to conduct me to the Chamber of Horrors. As we passed along the hall, one or two of the figures nodded to us; and Oliver Cromwell requested in Marwood to let him know when his part of the business was going to begin, as he should like to be present.

"I don't care about the trial, you know," said he. "Seen plenty of that sort of thing. But I'd like to see how you do your job, you know; so don't forget." And he slipped a shilling into Marwood's hand.

"You've no idea of the civility I receive from some of these gentlemen," said the latter to me with emotion. "Little drops of kindness like this always touch me. You shall have a little drop too, my boy, presently."

I tried feebly to laugh at the joke; but I couldn't, whereupon he got very sulky, and bundled me down the stairs without another word.

By the dim light of a few candles placed about the room I could see that the Chamber of Horrors was packed by a dense crowd of sightseers, who occupied seats on the floor of the court, and sat impatiently whispering together, expecting my arrival.

As I stumbled up the steps of the Old Bailey dock (where room had been made for me between Burke and Hare) the usual thrill of sensation passed round the court. I could see Henry the Eighth and his wives opposite me in the small dock, while the other crowned heads jostled one another on the platform of the guillotine. There, too, was the old hermit peeping out through the bars of his cage, and the warder in charge of the condemned cell was sweeping his place out and changing the sheets on the bed.

"Now then," said Henry the Eighth, when all the bustle had subsided, "wire in, somebody! Let's begin."

"You'd better get a jury first," said King John. "That's one of the first things I insist upon in Magna Charta."

"Order in the court!" cried Henry, "and Magna Charta be bothered! I shall do as I like!"

"Do have a jury, love," said Catherine Parr; "it's _such_ fun when they come in with their verdict!"

"Oh, all right; have it your own way. I should have thought, though, I could come in with a verdict as well as they. Now then, you there!" said he, addressing the convicts round me, "answer to your names."

And he proceeded to call the names out from the catalogue.

When a dozen had answered, Anne of Cleeves said, "That's enough, Henry dear; we've got twelve."

"Oh, have we?" said he. "You can have more if you like, you know; there's plenty left."

The ladies, however, decided that a dozen was enough, and the trial began.

"Prisoner at the bar," said Edward the Black Prince, who was acting as usher, "are you guilty or not guilty?"

"What's the use of asking him that," said Henry the Eighth, "when everybody knows, eh?"

John here began to explain that he had arranged the matter in Magna Charta, whereupon the judge exclaimed--

"Oh, gracious! if we're to have that up every two minutes I'll adjourn the court! Now, you there!" said he to me; "why don't you answer?"

I tried in dumb show to explain that I was not aware what I was being tried for; but as no one saw the point of my answer, I tremblingly pleaded "Not guilty."

"Oh," said Henry, growing very red in the face, "all right! Now, somebody, let's have the indictment!"

To my horror, I suddenly saw reflected on a screen, in large characters, at the far end of the room, my recent examination paper, with all my answers appended thereto! As I staggered back in terror, Henry laughed.

"Too late now," said he; "you've said `Not guilty', so you've got to be tried--got to be tried. Eh, what? Now start away; begin at the top. What's that he says about Alfred the Great? Where is Alf, by the way?"

"Oh," said Edward the Third, "he can't come. The fact is, they've taken him and dressed him up as a French General, and he's so awfully busy, he says, you'd better let his part of the thing slide."

"All serene!" replied Henry. "Lucky job for you, prisoner. I know what a rage he'd be in over that toast-and-muffin story you've been telling about him. He'd have done you brown, my boy, I can promise you! Never mind. Now let's go on to the next. Read it out, Nigger."

Edward the Black Prince, who answered to this genial pet name, accordingly read--

"`William the Conqueror was a cruel tyrant. He made many homes desolate, and wrote Doomsday Book in the year 1087.'"

"There!" cried the Conqueror, coming to the rail of the guillotine and striking it in a passion with his gauntlet; "what do you think of that? _I_ wrote Doomsday Book! It's a lie. My lords and gentlemen of the jury, I can stand anything else, but when he says I wrote Doomsday Book, I say it's a lie, and I hope to see him hung!"

"Hanged," suggested Henry the First.

"All right, all right," said Henry the Eighth, "keep cool, and you shall see him hung, and Henry shall see him hanged. We'll oblige all parties. So you mean to say, Willie, you never did such a thing?"

"No, never; I hope I know my place better," said the Conqueror; "and I'm surprised at you for asking such a question."

"Got that all down, Nigger?" asked the judge.

"Yes. Forge ahead!" said the Black Prince. "Now we come to the next, `William the Second, surnamed Rufus, shot in the New Forest, by Walter Tyrrell.'"

"Eh?" shouted Rufus, pushing his father aside, and coming to the front. "What's that? Me shot by Walter? Me--"

"Do say _I_," suggested Henry the First.

The Red King rounded on him at once.

"Oh!" he cried, "it was you, then, was it? You're the one that did it! I guessed as much! I knew you were at the bottom of it all along. What do you think of that, my lords and gentlemen?"

"The thing is," drawled Edward the Second, "did Walter--"

"Order in the court!" cried Henry the Eighth. "Kindly allow me to conduct my own case. All you've got to say, Rufus, is whether it's true what he says, that Walter Tyrrell shot you?"

"Him!" cried Rufus. "He couldn't hit a haystack a yard off, if he tried."

"Then he didn't do it? That's all right. Why couldn't you have said so at once? All down, Nigger? That makes two lies. Now call up the next."

"Henry the First, surnamed Beauclerk, never smiled again after his son was lost, and died of a surfeit of lampreys," read the prince.

"Oh, those lampreys!" groaned Henry; "I am perfectly sick of them. I assure you, my lords and gentlemen, they were no more lampreys--"

"No, not after you'd done supper," growled Rufus.

"In that case, William," retorted Beauclerk, "I should have said `there,' and not `they.' But I do assure you, gentlemen, I never saw a lamprey in my life; and as for smiling again," added he, in quite an apologetic way, "I did it often, when nobody was by; _really I did_."

"Are you sure?" asked the judge. "Show us how you did it."

Whereupon Henry the First favoured the court with a fascinating leer, which left no doubt on any one's mind that he had been falsely accused.

So two more lies were set down against me; and the Black Prince called over the next.

"`Stephen usurped the throne on Henry's death.'"

"Quite right, quite right," said Matilda; "perfectly correct."

"`Matilda, after a civil war, in which her bad temper made her many enemies--'"

"Oh you story!" exclaimed the empress. "Oh! you wicked young man!"

"Address the judge, please," said Henry the Eighth.

"Oh, you wicked young man," repeated the empress, turning to the bench; "I'd like to scratch you, I would!"

"Don't do that," said Henry: "I get quite enough of that at home, I assure you. Anyhow, Nigger can chalk it down a lie for you, eh?"

"And one for me, too, please," said Stephen. "How can a fellow usurp what belongs to him?"

"Give it up," said Coeur de Lion. "Ask another."

"Silence in the court," cried the judge. "Put it down, Nigger, and for mercy sake drive on, or we shall be here all night."

"`Henry the Second murdered Thomas a Becket, and was served right by having a family of bad sons,'" read the usher.

"That's nice!" said Henry, advancing. "Bad sons, indeed! Never had a better lot in all my life. Really, my lord, that ought to count for four lies right off. The idea of calling my Johnny a bad boy. Why, my lord, he was his father's own boy. You've only to look at him; and if he was a bit of a romp, why, so were you and I in our day."

"Speak for yourself," said Henry the Eighth severely. "But what about Becket?"

"Ah, well, there was a little accident, I believe, about him, and he got hurt. But I assure you I never touched him; in fact, I was a hundred miles away at the time. I'll prove an alibi if you like."

"No, no," said the judge; "that is quite sufficient. Chalk down two, Nigger: one for Becket and one for the bad family. How many does that come to?"

"That's eight," said the Black Prince. "All right. We only want two more. Go on."

"`Richard the First, surnamed the Lion Heart, was the strongest and bravest man in England, and won many glorious battles in the Holy Land.'"

"Hullo, I say," said the judge. "That's pitching it just a little strong, isn't it? What have you got to say to that, Dicky?"

"Seems pretty square," said Richard modestly. "He doesn't say what a good dentist I was, though. My! the dozens I used to pull out; and--oh, I say--look here, he says nothing about Blondel, and the tune I composed. That's far more important than the Crusades. It was an andante in F minor, you know, and--"

"That'll do, that'll do, Dicky. We've heard that before," interrupted the judge. "Score him down half a lie, Nigger, and call up Johnny."

"`King John, surnamed Lackland, was a wicked king. He was forced to yield to the barons, and he lost all his clothes in the Wash.'"

"Well, I never!" said John, foaming with rage; "if that isn't the coolest bit of lying I ever heard! Here have I been and worn my fingers to the bone writing Magna Charta and giving England all her liberties, and he never once mentions it! My lord and gentlemen, I should like to read you the document I hold in my hand, in order that you may judge--"

"What, eh? Read that thing?" exclaimed Henry the Eighth, in horror. "You'd better try it on, that's all. Good gracious me, what next? I've a good mind to commit you for contempt of court. The question is, were you a wicked king? and did you lose your clothes in the Wash?"

"I am surprised and pained that your lordship should ask me either question. When I assure you, my lord and gentlemen, that a more dutiful son, a wiser monarch, a tenderer husband, and a more estimable man than the humble individual who now addresses you, never drew--"

"Teeth," put in Richard I.

"No, breath," continued John. "And when I further tell you that I never even sent my clothes to the wash, and therefore could not possibly have lost them there, you will--"

"All right, pull up," said the judge. "That'll do. Keep the rest, my boy. That makes ten and a half--more than we want. Now, then, the next thing is, what sort of execution shall we have?"

"Oh, please," said the ladies, "_please_, Harry, darling, let the jury go out and bring the verdict in. It will be such fun."

"Eh, what?" said Henry, "oh, bother the jury! Where are they? Clear out, do you hear!" said he, addressing the twelve. "Go up to the Napoleon room and talk it over, and stay till I send for you."

The jury obeyed, and I was left alone in the dock.

"Now," said the judge, evidently relieved, "let's have the execution."

"But we've not had the verdict yet," said Anne Boleyn.

"That'll do any time," said Henry. "Just as much fun to have it afterwards. Besides, it's a wonderful saving of time to get the execution over now, while we're waiting; and then we can go straight to the refreshment-room. Eh, girls? Eh, what? Ah, I thought so."

"Oh, well," said Catherine of Aragon, "but _do_ put him in the condemned cell for a minute or so, and then have him brought out, like they all are, and--"

"_As_ they all are," said Henry the First. "Like is only used when--"

"Hold your tongue, you impertinent, forward young man!" said Catherine in a rage. "There, now!" added she, beginning to cry, "I've forgotten what I was going to say, all through you!"

"I think," said Henry the Eighth, waving his hand for silence, "he'd better be hung. Marwood tells me it's a very pretty sight; and the gallows are there quite handy. Besides," added he confidentially, "we should have to tip him in any case, so we may as well let him have the job, and get what we can for our money. What, eh?"

Every one approved of this, and the executioner was summoned.

Then, as I stood there, shivering in every limb, unable to speak, or even to move, I was aware once more of the lantern coming towards me, and of a hand laid heavily on my shoulder.

"Come, young gentleman," said the voice, "wake up--or you'll get locked in. They're shutting the doors. Tumble up, and look sharp."

It was Madame Tussaud's porter; and I had been fast asleep, after all!

[The end]
Talbot Baines Reed's short story: A Night With The Crowned Heads

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