THE CHIEF FEATURES OF WHICH WILL BEFOUND TO BE AN AUTHENTIC VERSION OFTHE LEGEND OF PRINCE BLADUD, AND AMOST EXTRAORDINARY CALAMITY THATBEFELL Mr. WINKLEs Mr. Pickwick contemplated a stay of at least two monthsin Bath, he deemed it advisable to take private lodgingsfor himself and friends for that period; and as a favourableopportunity offered for their securing, on moderate terms, theupper portion of a house in the Royal Crescent, which was largerthan they required, Mr. and Mrs. Dowler offered to relieve them ofa bedroom and sitting-room. This proposition was at onceaccepted, and in three days’ time they were all located in their newabode, when Mr. Pickwick began to drink the waters with theutmost assiduity. Mr. Pickwick took them systematically. He dranka quarter of a pint before breakfast, and then walked up a hill; andanother quarter of a pint after breakfast, and then walked down ahill; and, after every fresh quarter of a pint, Mr. Pickwick declared,in the most solemn and emphatic terms, that he felt a great dealbetter; whereat his friends were very much delighted, though theyhad not been previously aware that there was anything the matterwith him.
The Great Pump Room is a spacious saloon, ornamented withCorinthian pillars, and a music-gallery, and a Tompion clock, anda statue of Nash, and a golden inscription, to which all the water-drinkers should attend, for it appeals to them in the cause of adeserving charity. There is a large bar with a marble vase, out ofwhich the pumper gets the water; and there are a number ofyellow-looking tumblers, out of which the company get it; and it isa most edifying and satisfactory sight to behold the perseveranceand gravity with which they swallow it. There are baths near athand, in which a part of the company wash themselves; and aband plays afterwards, to congratulate the remainder on theirhaving done so. There is another pump room, into which infirmladies and gentlemen are wheeled, in such an astonishing varietyof chairs and chaises, that any adventurous individual who goes inwith the regular number of toes, is in imminent danger of comingout without them; and there is a third, into which the quiet peoplego, for it is less noisy than either. There is an immensity ofpromenading, on crutches and off, with sticks and without, and agreat deal of conversation, and liveliness, and pleasantry.
Every morning, the regular water-drinkers, Mr. Pickwickamong the number, met each other in the pump room, took theirquarter of a pint, and walked constitutionally. At the afternoon’spromenade, Lord Mutanhed, and the Honourable Mr. Crushton,the Dowager Lady Snuphanuph, Mrs. Colonel Wugsby, and all thegreat people, and all the morning water-drinkers, met in grandassemblage. After this, they walked out, or drove out, or werepushed out in bath-chairs, and met one another again. After this,the gentlemen went to the reading-rooms, and met divisions of themass. After this, they went home. If it were theatre-night, perhapsthey met at the theatre; if it were assembly-night, they met at therooms; and if it were neither, they met the next day. A verypleasant routine, with perhaps a slight tinge of sameness.
Mr. Pickwick was sitting up by himself, after a day spent in thismanner, making entries in his journal, his friends having retired tobed, when he was roused by a gentle tap at the room door.
‘Beg your pardon, sir,’ said Mrs. Craddock, the landlady,peeping in; ‘but did you want anything more, sir?’
‘Nothing more, ma’am,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘My young girl is gone to bed, sir,’ said Mrs. Craddock; ‘and Mr.
Dowler is good enough to say that he’ll sit up for Mrs. Dowler, asthe party isn’t expected to be over till late; so I was thinking that ifyou wanted nothing more, Mr. Pickwick, I would go to bed.’
‘By all means, ma’am,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘Wish you good-night, sir,’ said Mrs. Craddock.
‘Good-night, ma’am,’ rejoined Mr. Pickwick.
Mrs. Craddock closed the door, and Mr. Pickwick resumed hiswriting.
In half an hour’s time the entries were concluded. Mr. Pickwickcarefully rubbed the last page on the blotting-paper, shut up thebook, wiped his pen on the bottom of the inside of his coat tail, andopened the drawer of the inkstand to put it carefully away. Therewere a couple of sheets of writing-paper, pretty closely writtenover, in the inkstand drawer, and they were folded so, that thetitle, which was in a good round hand, was fully disclosed to him.
Seeing from this, that it was no private document; and as itseemed to relate to Bath, and was very short: Mr. Pick-wickunfolded it, lighted his bedroom candle that it might burn up wellby the time he finished; and drawing his chair nearer the fire, readas follows―THE TRUE LEGEND OF PRINCE BLADUD‘Less than two hundred years ago, on one of the public baths inthis city, there appeared an inscription in honour of its mightyfounder, the renowned Prince Bladud. That inscription is nowerased.
‘For many hundred years before that time, there had beenhanded down, from age to age, an old legend, that the illustriousprince being afflicted with leprosy, on his return from reaping arich harvest of knowledge in Athens, shunned the court of hisroyal father, and consorted moodily with husbandman and pigs.
Among the herd (so said the legend) was a pig of grave and solemncountenance, with whom the prince had a fellow-feeling―for hetoo was wise―a pig of thoughtful and reserved demeanour; ananimal superior to his fellows, whose grunt was terrible, andwhose bite was sharp. The young prince sighed deeply as helooked upon the countenance of the majestic swine; he thought ofhis royal father, and his eyes were bedewed with tears.
‘This sagacious pig was fond of bathing in rich, moist mud. Notin summer, as common pigs do now, to cool themselves, and dideven in those distant ages (which is a proof that the light ofcivilisation had already begun to dawn, though feebly), but in thecold, sharp days of winter. His coat was ever so sleek, and hiscomplexion so clear, that the prince resolved to essay the purifyingqualities of the same water that his friend resorted to. He madethe trial. Beneath that black mud, bubbled the hot springs of Bath.
He washed, and was cured. Hastening to his father’s court, he paidhis best respects, and returning quickly hither, founded this cityand its famous baths.
‘He sought the pig with all the ardour of their early friendship―but, alas! the waters had been his death. He had imprudentlytaken a bath at too high a temperature, and the naturalphilosopher was no more! He was succeeded by Pliny, who alsofell a victim to his thirst for knowledge.
‘This was the legend. Listen to the true one.
‘A great many centuries since, there flourished, in great state,the famous and renowned Lud Hudibras, king of Britain. He was amighty monarch. The earth shook when he walked―he was sovery stout. His people basked in the light of his countenance―itwas so red and glowing. He was, indeed, every inch a king. Andthere were a good many inches of him, too, for although he wasnot very tall, he was a remarkable size round, and the inches thathe wanted in height, he made up in circumference. If anydegenerate monarch of modern times could be in any waycompared with him, I should say the venerable King Cole wouldbe that illustrious potentate.
‘This good king had a queen, who eighteen years before, hadhad a son, who was called Bladud. He was sent to a preparatoryseminary in his father’s dominions until he was ten years old, andwas then despatched, in charge of a trusty messenger, to afinishing school at Athens; and as there was no extra charge forremaining during the holidays, and no notice required previous tothe removal of a pupil, there he remained for eight long years, atthe expiration of which time, the king his father sent the lordchamberlain over, to settle the bill, and to bring him home; which,the lord chamberlain doing, was received with shouts, andpensioned immediately.
‘When King Lud saw the prince his son, and found he hadgrown up such a fine young man, he perceived what a grand thingit would be to have him married without delay, so that his childrenmight be the means of perpetuating the glorious race of Lud,down to the very latest ages of the world. With this view, he sent aspecial embassy, composed of great noblemen who had nothingparticular to do, and wanted lucrative employment, to aneighbouring king, and demanded his fair daughter in marriagefor his son; stating at the same time that he was anxious to be onthe most affectionate terms with his brother and friend, but that ifthey couldn’t agree in arranging this marriage, he should be underthe unpleasant necessity of invading his kingdom and putting hiseyes out. To this, the other king (who was the weaker of the two)replied that he was very much obliged to his friend and brother forall his goodness and magnanimity, and that his daughter was quiteready to be married, whenever Prince Bladud liked to come andfetch her.
‘This answer no sooner reached Britain, than the whole nationwas transported with joy. Nothing was heard, on all sides, but thesounds of feasting and revelry―except the chinking of money as itwas paid in by the people to the collector of the royal treasures, todefray the expenses of the happy ceremony. It was upon thisoccasion that King Lud, seated on the top of his throne in fullcouncil, rose, in the exuberance of his feelings, and commandedthe lord chief justice to order in the richest wines and the courtminstrels―an act of graciousness which has been, through theignorance of traditionary historians, attributed to King Cole, inthose celebrated lines in which his Majesty is represented asCalling for his pipe, and calling for his pot,And calling for his fiddlers three.
Which is an obvious injustice to the memory of King Lud, and adishonest exaltation of the virtues of King Cole.
‘But, in the midst of all this festivity and rejoicing, there wasone individual present, who tasted not when the sparkling wineswere poured forth, and who danced not, when the minstrelsplayed. This was no other than Prince Bladud himself, in honourof whose happiness a whole people were, at that very moment,straining alike their throats and purse-strings. The truth was, thatthe prince, forgetting the undoubted right of the minister forforeign affairs to fall in love on his behalf, had, contrary to everyprecedent of policy and diplomacy, already fallen in love on hisown account, and privately contracted himself unto the fairdaughter of a noble Athenian.
‘Here we have a striking example of one of the manifoldadvantages of civilisation and refinement. If the prince had livedin later days, he might at once have married the object of hisfather’s choice, and then set himself seriously to work, to relievehimself of the burden which rested heavily upon him. He mighthave endeavoured to break her heart by a systematic course ofinsult and neglect; or, if the spirit of her sex, and a proudconsciousness of her many wrongs had upheld her under this ill-treatment, he might have sought to take her life, and so get rid ofher effectually. But neither mode of relief suggested itself toPrince Bladud; so he solicited a private audience, and told hisfather.
‘It is an old prerogative of kings to govern everything but theirpassions. King Lud flew into a frightful rage, tossed his crown upto the ceiling, and caught it again―for in those days kings kepttheir crowns on their heads, and not in the Tower―stamped theground, rapped his forehead, wondered why his own flesh andblood rebelled against him, and, finally, calling in his guards,ordered the prince away to instant Confinement in a lofty turret; acourse of treatment which the kings of old very generally pursuedtowards their sons, when their matrimonial inclinations did nothappen to point to the same quarter as their own.
‘When Prince Bladud had been shut up in the lofty turret forthe greater part of a year, with no better prospect before his bodilyeyes than a stone wall, or before his mental vision than prolongedimprisonment, he naturally began to ruminate on a plan of escape,which, after months of preparation, he managed to accomplish;considerately leaving his dinner-knife in the heart of his jailer, lestthe poor fellow (who had a family) should be considered privy tohis flight, and punished accordingly by the infuriated king.
‘The monarch was frantic at the loss of his son. He knew not onwhom to vent his grief and wrath, until fortunately bethinkinghimself of the lord chamberlain who had brought him home, hestruck off his pension and his head together.
‘Meanwhile, the young prince, effectually disguised, wanderedon foot through his father’s dominions, cheered and supported inall his hardships by sweet thoughts of the Athenian maid, who wasthe innocent cause of his weary trials. One day he stopped to restin a country village; and seeing that there were gay dances goingforward on the green, and gay faces passing to and fro, ventured toinquire of a reveller who stood ............